Obsession: A Rejected Mate Shifter Romance (The Mate Games #1)(72)

Almost in unison, Alek and Noah took my hands, infusing me with their strength and comforting me with their silent support.

“We’re here with you. We always will be, Sunny. And one day, he’ll realize what he did.” Alek’s deep voice soothed the ache in my chest, filling the wound Kingston’s callous words had carved into my heart.

“And he’ll regret not choosing you over himself,” Noah added.

I hoped it was true. Lord knew a part of me regretted the moment I’d rejected him. And that part grew a little larger every single day.





That night I was restless, indecision and worry warring for top billing in my mind. Despite Alek and Noah’s assurances, I couldn’t help but feel that choosing someone would devastate those I left behind. The thought of hurting any of them was killing me inside. I needed someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t going to just tell me to let the world burn, keep them all, and ride them to the finish line, like Moira.

A chill seeped into my bones as I stalked across the grounds in search of the only person I wanted to bare my soul to tonight. Rain hit me in icy drops, freezing my skin and raising goosebumps everywhere it touched. Normally I liked the rain, but not now. It only added to the melancholy in my heart.

I hesitated only for a moment as I stood outside the abandoned church Caleb had claimed as his classroom. It stood on the edge of the property, complete with a creepy graveyard. I shuddered as my focus landed on the spectral figure floating just above one of the tombstones. He was dressed in what appeared to be wedding clothes, now tattered and moth-eaten. The skeletal man doffed his moldering top hat.

“Oh hell no,” I muttered, throwing open the door as I noped straight inside the church. A cranky vampire priest was much better than Skeletor out there. Better the devil you know, and all that.

“Miss Fallon?” Caleb said as soon as I shut the huge doors behind me. The echo of the wood slamming shut filled the cavernous space.

“Did you know there’s a ghost outside?”

“You mean Friedrich?”

“You named him? That’s like adopting a trash panda. You’re only encouraging him to stick around.”

“His name is Friedrich, and he’s been in that same spot for the last hundred years, waiting for his wife to join him. Sadly, when they were killed on their wedding night, she was turned into a vampire and has never come to find him.”

Pity replaced my fear, and I found myself depressed on his behalf. “Well, damn, now I feel bad for ditching him.”

Something soft shimmered in his eyes. “Don’t worry, he’s doing what he feels he must. We are all ruled by instinct and desire, even if we don’t want to be.”

“Have a lot of experience with that, do you, Padre?”

“A lifetime’s worth. Now, tell me what brings you here in the middle of the night, Miss Fallon.”

I looked around the sanctuary. Pews still filled the space, but instead of a pulpit, a large oak desk loomed at the end of the aisle. “This is where you teach? A church? Isn’t that a bit on the nose?”

“I teach theology.”

He said it so simply like he was telling me it was raining outside. Even so, I couldn’t help but wonder if he merely preferred being surrounded by the trappings of the life he’d intended to lead. Or if the reminder of what he’d lost was yet another way for him to torment himself.

“Fair enough.” I trailed the tip of my index finger over the back of one of the pews. “I guess this does lend your class an air of . . . authenticity.”

“I do try.”

I’d never been in a Catholic church before, but there was no mistaking the ornate wooden structure situated on the right side of the sanctuary. “A confessional? Really?”

“You’d be surprised how freeing confession is.”

The way he said it gave me pause. “You still confess?”

“I have no confessor to speak to, but I am penitent in my own way. I can only pray that God hears me, damned as I am.” He strode down the aisle, not asking me to come with him, but I followed anyway. “What is weighing so heavily on your heart? I can feel the burden you’re carrying tonight.”

He’d given me the opening I needed, but now that the time was upon me, I found myself suddenly shy. How could I look at him when admitting to the things keeping me awake?

“Can you still hear my confession?”

He stopped, turning so swiftly I had to take several steps back to catch my balance. “You seek the Sacrament of Reconciliation?”

“I’m not Catholic or anything, but if it’s all you chalked it up to be, why not?”

“I can’t offer absolution. You understand that?”

“I don’t care. I just need to talk to someone without them judging me.”

His entire countenance softened, and for the first time, real tenderness shone in his sapphire eyes. “I can give you that.”

His admission showed me a kindness he hadn’t revealed to me before. Instead of fire and brimstone, there was only understanding. For the first time, he wasn’t just my mentor or punisher; he was offering to be my friend. It was . . . everything I hadn’t realized I’d been hoping for when I blindly made my way through the storm to find him.

Taking my hand, he led me over to the structure and held open the deep purple curtain so I could step inside. I frowned, glancing between the small wooden bench and the kneeler.