To Love a Shifter: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Marian Tee

He didn’t listen.

  “I love you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I was wrong. I was a coward.”

  Fresh tears fell. “You made me beg. You heard me beg. But you didn’t do anything.”

  “I couldn’t.” The words sounded like they were torn from him. “You reminded me of how I was when the bitch left me. I begged, too, Deli. I begged harder than you did but she never looked back. You made me remember how pathetic I was—”

  “You’re right. I was pathetic.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, dammit.”

  “Enough, Lucian. You owe me this. Stop reading my mind and leave me alone.”

  “If you need me, Deli…”

  I willed him to leave my mind, erecting a barrier between us, and his voice was instantly cut off. The vibration stopped.

  Numbness wrapped around my entire body and time seemed to stand still. I kept waiting for my body to hit the ground. It wasn’t that I felt suicidal, but I just didn’t want the pain to come back. I remembered Lucian’s voice, telling me he loved me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best to block the words out.

  It’s time to stop being stupid, Deli. It’s time to stop ignoring reality and start facing the truth. He made a fool out of you, and now it’s over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Home, they say, is where the heart is. But where could home be when my heart was in pieces and the one person I had given it to didn’t want it?

  When I opened my eyes, I was floating a hundred feet over the Statue of Liberty. Somehow, my subconscious had flown me right back home. I had been expecting to be in heaven but this was the next best thing.

  I flew without any thought of direction, letting instinct take over completely. After an hour or two, an arch with elegant, black letters caught my attention. Royal Greens. I cried because each and every little sight was familiar, cried because it just felt so good to be back, and I even cried at how smoggy and noisy it was.

  In Royal Greens, suburb-like homes stood next to art galleries, tattoo parlors, exclusive boutiques, and Goth nightclubs. In New York, everything was possible for a price, and I grew up in a neighborhood that charged an exorbitant price for a life that blended suburbia with all the modern and sinful pleasures NYC had to offer within its high-security walls.

  In a little while, I found myself above Michael Chaldon’s familiar two-story home.

  Michael was two years older than I was. I thought myself incredibly in love with him when we had started going out. Tall, blond, and attractive with twinkling hazel eyes, he had been the most popular boy in school and everyone had considered us the perfect couple because I happened to be the most popular girl in school.

  On Michael’s prom night, we had been crowned King and Queen, which was quite a feat since I was still a sophomore. We slept together—yes, just slept…again—and when we woke up in each other’s arms, we got to watch the sunrise together.

  Then we broke up on his graduation day. It had been one of the few times in my life I had mustered enough courage to remove my head from the sand and acknowledge the truth. I knew he loved me, but I also knew his feelings or even mine weren’t strong enough to survive a long-distance relationship when he’d leave for Yale and I’d be staying behind in New York.

  I flew down until I was hovering outside his bedroom window. I tried pushing it up and was gratified when it gave way without a sound. I stepped inside, causing the dark blue curtains to billow.

  I had expected the room to be unoccupied, so I almost let out a startled gasp when I saw the figure lying on the bed.

  Michael.

  He looked the same, yet different—thinner, younger, but more gorgeous than I remembered him to be. Or maybe I had just grown up a thousand years since the night I slept in his arms. The Deli of those days would have been cheerfully ignorant of Evren and Zekans, basking in the love of the people around her.

  In those days, my parents would still have been alive, Davie would have been okay, and I wouldn’t have been one of the least popular girls in school.

  But there would also have been no Lucian.

  “And that’s okay,” I muttered to myself.

  Michael stirred in his bed, and I reminded myself invisible didn’t mean inaudible. He was bare-chested and the covers were bunched around his waist. He was snoring lightly, but his face was smooth and peaceful. Did he ever think about me? Had he missed me? Had he mourned my death?

  I would have spent more time being emotional if I hadn’t realized at the same time I was also hungry.

  Crossing the room took longer than expected because I had to avoid stepping on the myriad of things cluttering the floor. There was dirty laundry, an empty box of pizza, open CD cases, and several thick textbooks on engineering. He was still the adorable but untidy boy I knew.

  Outside, my footsteps treaded mutely on the marble floor. Thank God, I wasn’t wearing heels. I could always glide on air, but that would consume more energy, and I was already dizzy with hunger.

  There was no sign of Michael’s parents. The rest of the house was silent as I approached the kitchen with increased confidence. I pulled the blinds down, just in case a neighbor could spy me drinking and see instead a glass of water floating in the air. My invisibility only extended to the things I wore. Lucian had tried explaining it to me, saying it had something to do with the time and space continuum, but his scientific mumbo-jumbo had only sent me up to my room with a whopping headache.

  The refrigerator was wonderfully stocked. Mrs. Chaldon, bless her heart, was also as I remembered, prepared at all times for any culinary emergency. Although she wasn’t the type to have a strict inventory, I tried to choose the things she’d be unlikely to miss—one out of four clubhouse sandwiches kept in a foil-covered container, a healthy serving of sliced beef and onions, and, remembering Dyvian’s instruction about protein, any other dish with meat in it that I could find.

  I took the pitcher of iced tea out and poured myself a glass, drinking it all with one gulp. I washed the glass and put it back on the shelf, then wiped the sink clean of evidence.

  In the living room, I made myself comfortable on the leather couch. Outside the curtain-framed bay windows, the sky was gloomy and overcast. It was yet another drizzly New York afternoon.

  I closed my eyes, promising myself I’d just rest for a moment.

  ~~~

  I woke up at the sound of voices. I looked around, not understanding where I was. None of the furniture was familiar. There shouldn’t be a Ming vase to my right, a glass elephant on the center table, and since when did we have zebra-printed walls?

  Then Mr. Chaldon’s face loomed over me as he bent down to sit. I scrambled off the cushions in time to avoid being crushed under his huge girth. He was munching on a chocolate bar, and I surmised his wife still hadn’t succeeded in keeping him to his diet.

  I crept up the stairs, placed my ear next to Michael’s door, and sneaked in when I heard nothing. He was still asleep.

  I moved to sit next to the windows just as the door opened. I held my breath as Mrs. Chaldon entered. She bent down to look at her son and shook her head. “You shouldn’t have tired yourself so, my dear,” she said softly and stroked his hair.

  Michael didn’t stir, and his chest rose and fell in regular rhythm.

  “I know you love her, Michael, but she’s gone. And you need to start living again.”

  And I knew, without a doubt, she had been talking about me.

  When she left, I lowered myself to the floor and leaned against the wall. I pulled my knees close to my chest, tucking my chin behind them as I slowly made myself look at Michael.

  I never knew he loved me this much.

  The knowledge was bittersweet and the tears began to fall once more. I cried long and hard, but they were tears cried in silence. After a while, my eyes dried and I stood up.

  I sat at the edge of his bed. He grunted and turned to his side, but he didn’t wake up.

  My fingers trembled as I reached out to touch his face.r />
  “Deli.”

  I froze, afraid for one moment he could see me. But his eyes remained closed. My breathing slowed down. He was dreaming. Of me, probably, and it was another painful thought because I doubted there was ever a time Lucian had dreamt of me.

  “Michael,” I whispered and touched his face.

  He responded immediately without awakening. It should have surprised me but it didn’t. “Deli. Is it really you?” Was he incredulous because he couldn’t believe he was speaking to someone who was supposed to be dead, or had his mind unconsciously taken in the changes in me and created a different-looking Deli in Michael’s dream?

  Could I have changed that much?

  “Deli? Answer me, please. Is it really you?”

  I swallowed. “Yes.”

  “You look so alive.” The wistfulness in his voice broke my heart. “I love you, Deli. Do you know that?”

  “I know now.” I traced his jaw and impulsively decided to shed off my invisibility. It was stupid and senseless but I couldn’t help it. If he woke up, I could just disappear, and he’d think he’d seen a ghost. But even so, maybe it would be enough and he wouldn’t suffer any longer over my so-called death.

  “I miss you so much, Deli. I think of you all the time. Why did you have to die? And why did I ever let you go?”

  “It was necessary,” I told him and touched his face again. I gasped when his hand suddenly shot out and gripped my wrist.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t go on loving you if I was away?” he demanded. “You were wrong. I’d never stop loving you. I still do.” His voice broke then, and I was aghast to see tears seep past his lashes, creating a wet trail on his cheeks.

  For one moment, I remembered the times we spent together, and they were good times. For that one moment, I remembered how it felt to love Michael and be loved by him, and I bent down to kiss his lips.

  He kissed me back instantly, his arms going around me, pulling me as close as he could.

  The next thing I did was possibly one of the cruelest acts I’ve done in my life. My parents taught me better, but you know how crazy broken-hearted people can be.

  I lowered the barriers in my mind.

  Those barriers were like prison bars when erected, and they made a rustling sound as they came and went. Their rustle alerted Lucian to what I had done and the tiny but noticeable vibration indicated Lucian’s presence emerged not one second later.

  Lucian started reading my mind the same time I surrendered myself to Michael’s kiss.

  It was the most passionate kiss Michael and I had ever shared, fueled by my desire for revenge, petty though it may have been. His hands moved up and down my back. “Deli,” he groaned against my lips.

  He was about to say more but I didn’t let him, kissing him more fiercely. I didn’t want to have the luxury to think. If I did, I’d have to think about what I was doing. I’d have to compare Michael’s kisses to the kisses I shared with Lucian. I’d have to consider a lot of things, and I just wasn’t ready for the truth.

  I pulled away an eternity later. “Michael.” I waited until he sensed my desire to be free, and his arms fell to his sides reluctantly. “This is the last time I’ll show myself to you. I’m in a good place now,” I lied. “So I don’t want you to worry anymore.”

  “I love you, Deli.”

  “I love you, too,” I lied again. “But it can’t be. You need to move on. I want you to move on. I don’t want to see you hurt. I want you to be happy. Will you do that for me?” I touched his cheek one last time and could’ve wept for what might have been. “Please?”

  Michael was silent for a long time. He could be stubborn when he wanted to and just when I was starting to think he had no plans of agreeing, he said slowly, “If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s definitely what I want,” I told him shakily. I stood and gazed down at him, wishing I could tell him how badly I wanted to fall in love with him again.

  And the unexpected thing happened.

  Michael’s eyes opened. “Deli?” he gasped.

  I smiled tremulously. “Thank you for loving me, Michael.” I didn’t wait for him to speak. I turned invisible and jumped out of the window, flying away before I could start crying again.

  “Lucian.” I remembered Lucian crying out in his mind when he saw me kissing Michael and I winced. I had seen what he thought all the while. He knew I was reading his mind. He could have shared some of his thoughts and kept others hidden, like I was doing now, but he had left everything open.

  He had repeated the scene over and over. It was pure torture for Lucian, but he had doggedly replayed the images in his mind. In the end, I had been so sickened at the sight of myself in Michael’s arms, I had cut the connection between us.

  But he hadn’t been as weak. The bond between us was like a two-way street. While I had voluntarily stopped reading his thoughts, he could have continued reading mine and he had, every hurtful second of it.

  He had listened when Michael said he loved me. He had heard my answer and when I tried reading his mind, I learned that half of him believed it was true.

  “Are you all right, Deli?”

  I wanted to cry again. If my tears had a voice, they would have probably told me I was abusing our friendship. Surely, I couldn’t cry over every single thing Lucian did?

  “Why did you keep on thinking about Michael and me kissing?”

  “Mental self-flagellation,” he replied without hesitation.

  I knew a lot of big words, thanks to Davie, but that one completely escaped me. “Right.” I vowed to look it up in the dictionary as soon as possible.

  “I know it’s not much, but suffering somehow makes me feel I could atone for the pain I’ve caused you, even just a little.”

  I understood him better this time and I said sharply, guiltily, “You didn’t have to watch.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  We remained silent for a while before Lucian asked again, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m coping.”

  “I love you.”

  The words came out of the blue and I went cold. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s the truth. I’m done hiding from the truth. You and I are alike in more ways than you think. You ignore the truth because you fear it. I ignore it because I’m arrogant, and I tell myself I don’t need to know the truth, that I don’t need anything because I’ve done well living by myself all these years.”

  “Well…I’m glad to help.” I couldn’t quite hide my bitterness.

  “You could help more if you came back—”

  “No.”

  “Promise me you’ll call for me when you need me.”

  “If,” I corrected, “I need you.”

  “Very well, then. If ever you do happen to need my help, I want you to promise me you’ll ask for it. I can’t let you go if I don’t think you’re safe.”

  “Stop pretending like you really care.”

  “But I do.” Lucian’s voice lowered. “You have to believe—”

  “You know what’s funny? Now that I know the truth about…about this thing we have with our minds, it just made me see things clearly. Before, I never thought of questioning why you loved me. I just thought you did and that’s all that mattered. But I should have. Because now, I’m trying to think of one reason—any reason, dammit—that you’d fall in love me and I can’t!” My voiced cracked at the humiliating truth.

  “Maybe it was fate.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I wasn’t looking for love, but there was something about you that instantly drew me. I remember how my pulse raced for no reason the first time I saw—”

  “Oh, please,” I snarled. “Don’t tell me you’re going to say it’s serendipity?”

  “What else could it be? You’re the very opposite of my ideal woman.”

  “Thanks a lot!”

  “I turned you into one of us simply to save your life. But then I got to hear your voice. Your real voice, your real t
houghts, and I couldn’t get enough of it. The more I listened, the more I knew about you, the more I fell in love with you. I tried not to…I tried everything to push you away—”

  “And you succeeded,” I finished, not wanting to remember, much less relive, the past.

  Sadness and regret mingled in his tone when he asked, “Do you remember the time you asked The Voice—”

  “You mean, I asked you,” I pointed out flatly.

  I had reconnected with his mind and he had let me. He flinched at my words but it didn’t make him pause. “Do you remember the time you asked me if I considered you the person I care for the most in the world?”