Wild and Free (The Three #3)(55)

“Which means they may sacrifice their lives?” he asked, but he wished he hadn’t when he caught her trying to fight a flinch.

His arms again grew tighter around her and he started stroking the skin of her sides with his fingers, something that worked and the flinch went away.

“That’s our sacrifice, baby,” she replied gently. “Our peace of mind for theirs. They need this to have peace of mind that they’re doing what they can do. To have all the time they can have with us, even if it’s short.”

On these words, she dropped her head and rested her forehead against his jaw. She took her own moments in her thoughts and Abel returned the favor, being silent and letting her.

After a while, she kept going.

“No one likes this situation. But the one thing we’ll all have as we go about navigating it is each other. So I guess that’s not a bad thing.”

She was not wrong.

And Abel had discovered something else about his destined mate.

Delilah Johnson was far from dumb.

Very far.

“Then we’re decided,” he muttered.

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “Are we?”

He slid his hands up to under her arms and clamped tight. “Not sure we have a choice.”

“No,” she agreed.

He rolled her to her back with him on top, murmuring, “Think I gotta f*ck you again.”

“Gotta?” she asked, her green eyes, which had been tinged with sadness, starting to light with humor, something he liked a f*ckload better.

“Prefer to have my mind on your tight, wet cunt than this shit,” he answered.

“With this I wholeheartedly agree. Though, for my part, I prefer you to have things in it, rather than your mind on it.”

He dipped his head and grinned against her lips. “Goes hand in hand, *cat.”

“Uh…speaking of your hands…”

She let that hang.

He did as told.

And it worked. Being all about her and her body and her noises and her sweet, tight * while she was all about him and his body and making him growl with her growing devotion to his cock. It was much better than considering their future, which was clouded with an unknown threat.

And it worked so well it lasted even after they both came. It lasted while Delilah purred and Abel held her and she shared snippets of her life—her friends, her apartment, what she liked to do, stories of her father’s and his friends’ antics—doing it sleepier and sleepier until she trailed off and he lost her to her dreams.

When he did, Abel closed his eyes, and with his mate tucked close for the second night in a row, he became lost to a dreamless sleep, her sweet voice, lilted with its natural husk as well as love and sometimes laughter, still ringing in his ears.





Chapter Ten


Small Successes

Delilah



They had him.

They had him.

They had him.

I had to get to him. I had to stop it. I had to save him.

They hit me in the back.

Paws.

The force immense, knocking my breath out of me, the weight tremendous, taking me down to my front so fast I didn’t even lift my arms to cushion my fall.

He used his powerful head to nose me to my back.

Then he was on me.

The wolf.

And he didn’t hesitate to bare his teeth and go for my throat.

*

I jerked violently awake to see Abel’s face close to mine, illuminated only by the light from the lamp over the bed.

I felt his hand cupping my jaw.

My hand darted to his of its own accord, my fingers curling tight around his wrist.

“Lilah, bao bei,” he murmured gently.

“Shit, I just had a nightmare,” I breathed, realizing dazedly my entire body was hot and I was panting.

“You did, *cat,” Abel confirmed. “You were jerking around, got hot to the touch. Been tryin’ to wake you for five minutes.”

Seriously?

“Five minutes?” I asked.

“Maybe more,” he told me. “You were beginning to freak me.”

I focused on him and could only respond with “Ugh. Sorry.”

“What were you dreaming?” he asked.

I blinked up at him as my mind went blank.

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“It just happened,” he noted.

“I know, but…” I hesitated, trying to call it up but failing. “It’s gone.”

Abel studied me as his thumb started to stroke my cheek.

Then he asked, “Do you have nightmares a lot?”

I shook my head on the pillow. “No, I…I mean, I have them. But not a lot.”

“When you do, do you remember them?”

I nodded. “Yes. Mostly.”

“Do you dream a lot?” he pressed.

I shook my head again. “I dream, but I wouldn’t say it’s a lot. Why?”

“I do. Every night. Or, I did.”

“Did?”

“First night you slept beside me was the first night I can remember for centuries that I didn’t dream. This night the same.”

Wow. Weird.

“Is that, um…good?” I asked.