Awaiting Fate

by J. L. Sheppard

  His gaze drifted away from hers, unwilling to see the pity in them when he knew he would sense it spilling from her as well.

  “At the time, Lucas created an army to combat the Hellions. During a raid of one of the homes of Hellions, they found me in a house nearby. My mother, father and brother were killed. I was four. I have no idea why they left me alive. Lucas took me in, treated me like his own.”

  When he was done, he held his breath as he reached out to sense her feelings.

  It wasn’t pity.

  It was sorrow—for him.

  His gaze darted to hers.

  Tears rimmed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Cain,” she said as a tear slid down her cheek.

  He smiled then reached out to grasp her hand in his, again comforted by her touch. “Don’t cry, Liv. It was a long time ago.”

  She wiped away a tear. “That’s why, isn’t it?”

  Her question caught him off guard, the meaning just out of his reach. “Why what?”

  “Why you chose to become a Guardian? Why you risk your life every night?”

  Revealing his tragedy, she’d inadvertently understood why he’d chosen his path. “One of the reasons,” he said then admitted, “Yeah, the main reason…I couldn’t save my family, but I can save other families, other kids from becoming orphaned. I’ve been lucky though. Lucas has been my family.”

  She nodded, and he waved the waitress for the check.

  “How do you feel about doing some shopping?”

  “Shopping?” she repeated, a look of confusion marring her face.

  As the waitress neared, check in hand, Cain pulled out his wallet and handed over his credit card. “Yeah, I need some clothes. I didn’t bring anything with me. You can help me pick out some stuff.”

  “Sure. We should go to Fira, the capital. They have tons of stores there.”

  “Great. Then tomorrow night, I’ll take you dancing,” he promised, grinning widely. For the first time that night, it was a real grin. He knew because the barrier between them melted away.

  “Wouldn’t you rather go dancing alone, so you can meet someone or—”

  Jesus! Was she serious? “No,” he said, firmly. “I came here to be with you.”

  She blushed, then looked away from him. Hesitating only briefly, she smiled and nodded.

  He was familiar with the rosy tint on her cheeks and loved it. It occurred often, anytime he complimented her, flirted with her, or told her a simple truth that expressed how he felt as he’d just done.

  Then she did what she did best, she completely disregarded the compliment. “So my brother sent you?”

  Grabbing her hand again, he squeezed it lightly. “No, I came here to spend time with you. Your brother didn’t send me.”

  Confusion muddling her expression, she asked, “Are you assigned to guard me?”

  Shaking his head, he patiently said, “No. I’m on vacation, remember? I’m not assigned to guard you, and your brother didn’t send me. I came here to be with you.”

  Her piercing blue gaze fell away from his, in thought, then met his again. “I just don’t—”

  Leaning in, placing both elbows on the table, his hand still firmly holding hers, he asked, “You don’t understand why a man wants to spend time with a beautiful woman?”

  Eyes widening, her cheeks turned a rosier shade.

  He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t chuckle. He didn’t find her discomfort amusing, but it was about time she got used to it. She was his. He would have her. When she accepted him, he planned on spending the rest of his life complimenting her.

  The waitress returned with his card and receipt. Releasing her hand, he took both, added the tip, signed the receipt then shoved his copy and card in his pocket.

  “But—”

  “But you don’t want me here?” he wondered aloud.

  “No, I just—”

  He didn’t let her speak. “No, you don’t want me here?”

  Looking flustered, she tried again, “That’s not what I meant. I just—”

  “Good. Let’s go,” he said then stood quickly silencing any other rebuttals.

  Grabbing her hand again, he pulled her toward him and led her to their car.

  Chapter 8

  Three and a half months ago

  The end of his shift. Finally.

  It’d been so long. Ten hours he’d been hunting. Ten hours since he’d seen her.

  He hated what he’d come to, but he had no other choice, so he closed his eyes and materialized in Olivia’s bedroom, his gaze gravitating to the bed where her sleeping figure lay.

  His heartbeat pounding at the base of his neck, he sighed in relief, finally having glimpsed her.

  His work had once been his salvation. He’d taken solace in knowing he fought for justice in honor of the family he had lost.

  That all changed with his first glimpse of her.

  His nights became an agony of craving, a countdown. Each night he counted the hours until he saw her again.

  His life became a waiting game: waiting to steal a glance, sometimes even a touch.

  It was the way it had to be because she needed time. Time once seemed to fly, now crawled at a snail’s pace, taunting him. He lived in a hell where his mate was just within reach yet untouchable, so he wasn’t proud of what he’d become—a voyeur, but he had no other choice. He needed her presence to soothe him.

  After his long shifts, when everyone was at rest, he appeared in her room and watched without her consent.

  He’d been there every night for weeks; regardless, he knew nothing of her room; couldn’t describe the color of the walls or furniture. He had no idea if she had an en suite bathroom or the size of her closet, but he had memorized the angelic features of her face, the glow of her skin in the moonlight and the small mole on the corner of her lip. He knew she kicked off her sheets often. It made her shiver moments later, but she still did it, and he knew she tossed and turned and mumbled incoherently in her sleep.

  His voyeurism was salvation, satisfying his minimal needs. It wasn’t enough, not for him. Honestly, he didn’t know how much longer he could withstand it, being so close and yet so far away. Torture of the worst kind, a torture he suffered gladly night after night because his mate needed time.

  As his gaze moved to her, he wondered once again how it was possible for anyone be so beautiful, so perfect, how it was possible any female had been created just for him.

  What he would give for just one touch, just to feel her silky skin against his?

  Anything and everything.

  But things remained stagnant, as they had for weeks. She didn’t know she belonged to him, granted to him by fate. She didn’t know she was his. It was his privilege to know, his duty to tell her, but he couldn’t, not just yet. She needed time.

  Only minutes had lapsed in her presence, yet he was overwhelmed with his desire to touch her, to feel her skin against the palm of his hand. A desire so deep and primal, his arm extended regardless of his will. His fingers so close, he could feel the warmth permeating her body. He caught himself before he was discovered, and slowly and regretfully withdrew his hand.

  She’s not ready, he reminded himself. She needs time.

  The battle inside him waged and he continued fighting his desire for her. Still, he tilted his head back as if in surrender and thanked God, heaven and fate for his precious gift—his Olivia.

  Chapter 9

  Because it was a small island with only few roads, the drive to Fira seemed longer than it should. She was still in shock over his arrival and still couldn’t understand why he’d come.

  I came here to be with you, his words continued to replay in her mind. While they partially explained why he had come, they also surged emotions in her she wanted to forget.

  Her feelings for him were her reason for leaving home, but he’d found her. There was no escaping him now without telling him the real reason she left. It would hurt him to hear the truth, and she couldn’t stand to see the look on
his face, the torment and pain she witnessed before.

  Something had happened to him while she’d been away, something he wasn’t revealing. He’d come to her needing a friend, and she didn’t have the heart to turn away the man she loved when he needed her the most.

  They were friends and had been for months. She wasn’t a fool to think he didn’t enjoy her company, but their relationship was what it had always been, a friendship, and it wouldn’t lead where her heart wanted it to go.

  Hearing his words though, every time he uttered, “I came here to find you,” or “I came here for you,” her heart fluttered with hope. That hope crashed and burned when her conscience reminded her, the inevitable truth: he cared for her as a friend.

  She knew because she was his friend as he was hers. Had he been attracted to her, he would’ve made a move months ago. It was for the better. Had he kissed her, she would have fallen much sooner only to be broken when he reminded her she wasn’t his.

  When they arrived in Fira, he once again opened the car door for her. They walked briskly and entered several shops. Cain purchased at least two weeks’ worth of clothes including swim trunks, shirts, jeans, shorts and shoes. She assumed he’d spent at least three thousand dollars. The man had expensive taste and it showed.

  “Do you want to grab a drink somewhere?”

  “Sure.”

  He shifted the bags in his hands and grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the locals and tourists. She shivered from the warmth of the simple touch. Her hand in his felt right. As soon as the thought reared its head, she shoved it away reminding herself again they were only friends.

  With that beautiful grin on his face, he joked, “Did I sting you?”

  Not sting, she thought, shaking her head and smiling.

  Not a moment later, he pulled her into him, pressing her body against his and wrapping his arms around her.

  The length of her body against his, his warmth consuming her, she fought how good it felt and stilled, unsure.

  He pulled away from her slightly, his eyes seeking and finding hers, confusion in his expression. “I think we should drop this stuff off first,” he explained.

  That made sense to her, so she asked, “Where?”

  He grinned widely. “Your house…You don’t mind if I crash at your place, right?”

  With her? Shit. That was a bad, bad idea. Being so close to him, seeing him constantly, she wouldn’t be able to get away. Still, she couldn’t say no, so she lied. “Of course not.”

  “Good.” He smiled then pulled her head toward his chest. “Close your eyes.”

  She did. A moment later, her lids drifted open. Her gaze scanning her surroundings, noticing they stood outside her home. She pulled away from him quickly because she didn’t want to think about how good it felt in his embrace, but she instantly regretted it, missing his warmth.

  Leading him inside, she showed him to a spare room where he placed his bags. He then materialized inches from her face and wrapped his arms around her again. This time, he leaned down, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, each of his breaths burning her skin. She shuddered as goose flesh erupted.

  He pulled away from her slightly, his lower body still pressed against hers. “Are you cold? We can go back.”

  “Back?” she asked, disoriented. Scanning the area, she realized they were once again in Fira near the shops, bars and restaurants. “Oh,” she mumbled. “N-no, I’m fine.”

  Still too close to her, he placed his hand on her forehead. His brows drew together. “You’re hot, actually.”

  Flushing, she admitted, “Yes.” And it’s your fault!

  “Are you getting sick? Can werewolves get sick?” he asked quickly.

  She hated that he sounded so concerned. It would be so much easier if he could care less. Flustered, she answered truthfully. “No, we can’t get sick. I’m warm because…” No! She couldn’t admit that.

  There were three reasons a werewolf’s temperature spiked, a need to shift, anger or craving. She was scorching with need.

  After a long pause, she said, “It’s a weird wolf thing.”

  “Do you need to shift? We can go back—”

  “I’m fine.” She interrupted him harshly, then instantly regretted her tone.

  He nodded, but she didn’t miss his clenched jaw. “Where to?”

  She took a step away from him, avoiding his gaze. “There’s a bar overlooking the ocean. It’s down this way,” she said then turned and led the way.

  He caught up to her, walking close to her side. Just then she felt it—tension, lots of it, making the air nearly unbreathable. Confounded by it, she spared a glance in his direction. Her jaw dropped when she realized his eyes had begun to glow in public. Not good.

  “Cain, your eyes,” she whispered.

  “Fuck,” he hissed, sounding as angry as he looked.

  He grabbed her hand and led her away from the crowds and into a narrow alleyway. Not a moment later, his body enclosed hers. Without touching her, he closed in until her back was pressed against the wall. His arms went to each side of her head, trapping her in a touchless embrace as his eyes swarmed a deeper crimson.

  Shit! She was in trouble, and she knew it. Cain wasn’t one to lose his cool and anger, yet he was angry, angry enough he would lose it any moment. The fierce expression marring his face, the ticking muscle in his jaw, his glowing eyes, all bore testament to his anger, anger that knotted every muscle in his powerful body. The air around them was so thick with tension it was suffocating, and she knew she felt it only because he couldn’t control it.

  Softening her voice, she asked nervously, “What’s wrong?”

  The tension surrounding them heightened, so she couldn’t breathe. His eyes hardening to slits bore into her then a rush of anger hit her square in the chest, leaving her breathless.

  His anger.

  He projected it as only demons could. What she didn’t know was whether he’d done it intentionally. She hoped he had because if he hadn’t it meant he’d already lost it and that meant he would turn.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” he barked. His breath hit her with each word, laced with rage.

  “What?” She managed the strength to mumble.

  He drew closer, pressing his chest against hers. The heat of his body caressing hers, she grew warm with craving. Helplessly, her gaze drifted to his thick full lips. Her mind wandered. What she’d give for a kiss, a single mind-blowing kiss?

  Cheeks flushing, her gaze darted toward his again. “Why are you…” Her body’s desires overwhelming her, she gasped for breath.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

  He wasn’t just angry. He was livid, and he was livid with her because she’d left.

  She didn’t know what to say, had no excuse, not one she could tell him anyway, so she said nothing.

  Shutting his eyes firmly, his anger intensified, coiling rapidly against her until she not only felt it but tasted it.

  Still, she wasn’t afraid. With each passing moment, all she felt was heat, his and hers, and how badly she wanted him.

  “Answer me,” he demanded harshly. “Tell me why you left without telling me!”

  His tone startling her, she jolted against him, her body rubbing his. A desire so powerful rippled through her and spiraled inside her, pooling liquid between her legs. It clouded her every thought and every action, so as she stared straight into his eyes, she couldn’t remember what he’d said.

  Clenching his jaw, he ground his teeth in anger, so close to losing it. “Olivia, tell me!”

  She should be afraid, trapped in an angry demon’s embrace, but she wasn’t, as unbelievable as it was. All she felt was him so close to her, and that was all she’d wanted for months. It was crazy, even to her it sounded crazy, but then again, she knew deep down Cain would never hurt her.

  She pressed her hands against his chest, praying she possessed the strength to push him away. Without his heat, his touc
h, him inciting her, she would regain the ability to hear, to think.

  He didn’t budge, not an inch. Instead, he growled, low and guttural. The sound resonated in her chest. She shut her eyes, clenching them, naïvely attempting to force herself to ignore the longing inside her.

  “Olivia.” He pronounced each syllable of her name. “Why did you leave without telling me?”

  She finally heard his words, and still she hesitated because she couldn’t tell him the truth. Knowing she had to say something before he scented her desire, she blurted, “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  His eyes narrowed further. His arms, blocking her escape, trembled with anger. “Why would you think it didn’t matter? I’ve seen you every day for months. I thought we were friends—”

  “I’m sorry. I just…I didn’t think you’d be…”

  Her words fell away when he placed his big hands on her cheeks, rested his forehead against hers, staring deep into her eyes. His lips millimeters from hers, he gasped for breath.

  Slowly, the anger around them dissipated. When it did, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. His full lips trembled against her, amplifying her desire so much she couldn’t hold her weight. Her knees buckled beneath her.

  He wrapped his arms around her, catching her, further pressing the length of her body against his. He held her for moments too long. She fought not to give in, her body tense against his until, finally, she gave up. She couldn’t fight the need inside her anymore, the need to be held by him, something she’d wanted for so long. She rested her cheek on his chest, closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her, enjoyed that with every breath, his scent seared its way into her.