The Bird Has a Crisis of Faith

"So much for your theory—doing it more did not lessen the need," Taurus drawls sarcastically.

"I thought it would," I mumble. My eyes light on him as a wicked smirk curls my lips. I lean down on my elbows, crawling forward.

Uh oh. He's not looking at me. It's serious time.

"When is this going to let up? I mean, I was a bloody monster that time."

I frown, not understanding why he's so upset. "When is what going to let up?" My eyes flash as I scent my way up his leg, prowling still as I come out of the ferocity of our coupling. "You know I like a little fang in my thang."

He groans at the pun, and I drop kisses lightly on his abdomen. His pulse kicks under my lips and I nip him lightly. "This sodding scream of want I can't get free of. No matter how many times I take you, it doesn't go away." He lowers his arm and looks down at me, his gaze tortured. "I almost bled you this time. Christ, Deli, I was so goddamn close."

That admission makes everything go still inside of me. I quietly pull back, stopping my playful touches. I've been studiously ignoring the screaming ache of blunt teeth marks, the howl of unfinished business from my beast, and the fangs that are still dropped in my mouth. She noticed the wave of primal energy.

I can't fuck this up.

Tilting my head so my hair falls over my shoulder, I shrug. "I don't know how to respond to that." I scramble down the couch, tucking my knees up as I look at him with an unsure expression.

"I'm losing it with you." He rolls to his feet and dresses in hurried motions.

Ouch. That hurts.

Perhaps my cool disregard wasn't enough to keep his morality at bay. My heart is full of fear and pain, so I sit my chin on my knees and watch him silently. This might be the moment I lose the buoy that is keeping me from sinking.

Dressed now, he crosses the room to the curtained bay window and pulls it open to stare out into the sky. Without looking at me, he murmurs, "I love you."

I know that, but as I've asked my other mates, will it be enough? Will temptation make it so hard that he gives up? Everyone gives up on me. Am I like a flower that if you hold me too tightly, you crush me?

"I love you, too," I reply softly, my eyes roaming over him from behind. I have nothing else to say to comfort him.

He's going to break my heart; I can feel it.

"You're consuming me. I didn't think I had this in me because I've always been a one-woman man, you know?"

If he's trying to explain why he's leaving, he doesn't have to do this. He needs to rip the Band-Aid off. I'll leave the place where I feel safe for the first time in months behind, but I won't accept it unless he says it. "Yes, I do."

"Last night was," his voice breaks, "... special to me. Once we marked each other, I thought the things I've been feeling would go away. I thought they'd lessen enough that I could look at you without feeling myself inside you so keenly that I groaned with it." He turns his head to spear me with a deep blue stare. "That's how it is every time—more since I put the mark on you."

My eyelids fluttering as he mentions the mark. I feel it tickle against my skin and I know how he feels. She wants him with a drive that I've never felt before. I've only been with him a short time, but she's determined to make him her own. This is wild calling to wild and begging to be free. I don't know how I'm going to keep her satisfied, honestly. Maybe it's better if he gives me the boot. "I know."

Turning away again, he continues in a raspy voice. "It's not just the sex. It would be easier if it were, I expect. I keep seeing myself doing the most poof-like, asinine things to get you to smile at me. That isn't normal for me. I know you don't enjoy getting stompy, so I beg you to do it for me so it's not so bad for you. How big of an ass am I?"

My lips quirk and the heaviness of the situation fades for a moment. "Poofy things?"

He snorts derisively. "Surely you don't think I normally act like a drama queen with the goddess, do you? She'd kick my ass or have me committed."

I give him a rueful grin. Honestly, I thought this was normal for him. "Aw, now you're going to make me say that you're not really an ass, but I like to poke at you?"

Looking at me seriously, he shrugs. "But I am."

"An ass? No, you're not. Even if you were, you're my ass, and I like you." That is true—too much, in fact.

His grin is haunting. "Yeah, well, that's rather the problem, as I like you, too. Do you want to know what the best time of the day is—outside of being inside you?"

"When?"

"The very first time you crawl up into my lap because before that, it's like the sun hasn't shown yet. Then you do, and it does. How fucking pathetic is that?" He snorts and throws himself down into a chair.

I arch a brow. "Not so pathetic from this end. Maybe not looking at it from your big bad image, but no one else has to know that, do they?"

"It would facilitate a sundry of community murders, so I suppose that would be a bad thing."

"I hate trying to get bloodstains out of the greenery."

"See, it's not so bad right now. The craving for you has ebbed. This is good, but when we're doing what we did… Do you realize that I've never made love to you?"

"I don't know. You were tender the other night." I give him a soft smile, trying to calm the fluttering of my heart and the fear churning in my stomach. Why is he drawing this out so much?

"I've been not animalistic all of one time, but that's it. Look at your shoulder, love. Look at what I did."

I push the hair off my shoulder and shrug again. Who does he think he's dealing with? Bites are part and parcel for me. "And?"

He frowns. "You think I'm being ridiculous?"

No, I think you're trying to break up with me and holding it together is getting hard.

"No, I don't. I didn't mind that. I mean, it felt..." I squirm in my seat, studying my toes intently, finally saying, "I don't want you to do something you don't want to."

"The problem is that I want to." Grinning ruefully at me, he shrugs a shoulder. "Want isn't the problem. I could all but taste your blood on my tongue, love. That coppery, hot, bitter redness coating my tongue and soothing my stomach is all I think about."

My eyes lose focus for a moment as he speaks, my nose twitching. The Beast rumbles eagerly inside of me at the image. "Um, okay. If I can make it easier for you, let me know."

He grins at my expression. "Do you see my problem?" Sighing, he purses his lips. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, pet. I'm just confused."

"You didn't make me feel bad—kind of helpless, maybe? I don't know what to say or do to make you feel better." Also, like I have to be super careful what I say or do because this feels like a minefield of epic proportions.

His eyes cut to mine, looking regretful. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm not upset." I'm confused, concerned, and cautious, but none of those are upset. Is he going to stop coming here or put crazy restrictions on us? Will he disappear and leave me alone? I don't know what he's trying to tell me except that he wants to bite me and can't because of his ‘code'.

The fucking ‘code'—how I hate that old guard shit.

It's as complex as the shit with the loonies wanting to share but being incapable of sharing. Why can't people be happy? Accept what you can have, treasure it, and learn to be happy with what's in front of you. Sure, the beast wants to claim him, but it will not happen. Since reason isn't one of her strong suits, I have to figure it out. Does that mean I shouldn't love every minute I'm with him? No. It means that life is what it is—nothing more, and nothing less. Suddenly, I realize that he's talking again, and I tune back in. Shit. I hope I didn't miss something important.

"I've got things to work out. I wanted our marks to be enough because it goes against everything in me to take another mate. Then we're doing our thing and I can taste you on my tongue. I don't want to just drink you; I want to drain you completely and give you back my own." As is quickly becoming a habit, he rubs the sapphire in his ear while he broods.

A zing of surprise paired with a shudder runs through me. That doesn't sound like he just wants to bite me. It sounds like he wants to—Does he want to mate with me? I let a deep breath out slowly, trying to calm myself down. I'm jumping to conclusions high enough to breach the caped hero territory. I can't get worked up. This is most likely going to end in me being killed in the morning, so to speak.

"Baby, whatever you decide, I'm behind."

There. I got words out. Good job, Deli.

His eyes narrow, and he growls low. "Hell help me, I want to have you do the same fucking thing to me. I want your fangs in me—taking my blood, drinking me down."

At that statement, my eyes fly up to meet his. My heart is hammering like a hummingbird in flight. His gaze is so fierce that I can feel the heat on my skin. "I want to." It slips out before I can catch it, and I lick my lips, waiting to lose an appendage.

His gaze goes fuzzy for a moment, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Leaping to his feet, he shakes his head and snarls. "Shit. I'm the poster child for anti-angst, sweaty, naked fun, but I'm turning this into a bloody soap opera."

"You aren't!" I protest quickly—maybe too much so—because he whips his head around to look at me. "I love you. I'm okay with whatever decision you make. Please don't worry."

Please, please don't get upset.

I can't lose another person who wormed their way into my heart—not right now. It's the height of selfishness, but I need him. More than I want to, more than I should, and even with the limitations we have, he's the most stable thing in my life right now.

"I need to think, pet. I need time to work it out in my head. It's killing me. This want for something that goes against what I believe in. Apparently, I'm the biggest prat in the world." He looks disgusted with himself, pulling a smoke out of his pocket and heading for the window again.

I snort. "Trust me, you're not."

"I also want you to understand that this has nothing to do with your choices, but I'm not sure I can share a family tree with branches I'd like to burn. Do you understand?"

Speaking of the actual biggest prat in the world, here comes Wilde to ruin yet another chance at happiness. He isn't even here, and he's wrecking me emotionally. Jesus, isn't that branch of the family the gift that keeps on giving? He and Sari are akin to a dead animal you can't find that stinks up your entire house. I nod, letting out a slow breath. "I do."

"And Talia? She's more of a forest fire type of woman."

"I accept that. There are complications to a family as big as mine. I'm struggling with mates that have lost their minds and I still don't know how to reconcile that problem. Everyone doesn't have to play in the same sandbox."

He whips around, eyes blazing and face serious. "Never speak of this place like that again. It means more to me than that."

I blanch. "I meant you don't have to associate with people you don't like. I sure as hell don't associate with those inbred hicks in Texas. Dollars to donuts, a mating happened that I was never told about."

His expression is sheepish, then incredulous, and then returns to normal. I guess he didn't know that mates could operate in that fashion. I have no answer for him. "Sorry, I misunderstood what you were saying. That's a good policy, though, as family reunions would be a bitch."

"Truthfully? I doubt it could make anything worse."

"I wonder how much potato salad it would take to drown the gnome," he muses.

"I hate potato salad."

He grins. "I despise the stuff. Full of coincidences, aren't we, kitty?"

"That's me. An enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in—well, usually, leather."

His hand reaches out to me as he barks a laugh. "Come here, kitty."

I crawl over to curl up in his lap with a sigh. This makes all this hard stuff better. It shouldn't since we're in a giant mess, but his touch makes me calm and helps me find my center. The only person who's ever been able to do that as easily as he is Rafe.

It's odd.

He strokes his hands down my spine idly and then murmurs, "I promise you I'm going to figure out what I'm comfortable with. I'm sorry I'm such a prude."

Is he? I'm not sure you can be sorry about such a firmly held belief system. It's intrinsic to who Taurus is. However, let's be honest: this entire situation goes against everything everyone who has ever met Taurus thinks he believes in. The very room we're in, the things we've shared, and the marks we placed violate the image he and Talia have crafted for years. There'll be hell to pay when people find out, but that's neither here nor there.

"You are not a prude. Besides, it's not like I didn't know who you were and how you felt when I put a mark on you, is it?" I reach up and rub the earring lightly, reminding him I accept him as is. I may have to struggle with myself and my feral nature, but I respect his convictions.

"I suppose it'd be easier if I bit you and got it done with it." His head turns at my words and he frowns. "This is enough for you? Because it's not enough for me. I'm happy, miserable, and everything in between—all because of my sodding values."

Okay, I've clearly caused both a crisis of conscience and a complete world view meltdown.

Before we met in that park, I would have categorized Taurus as the least likely person to evolve. I didn't set out to make him change or alter his core beliefs. I don't even know if I want to be responsible for that. I don't want this if it's going to screw everything up. I don't even know how to figure out if it will screw everything up.

This fucking sucks. What do I do?

I turn my hand to stroke his cheek gently, trying to ease some of the pressure he's putting on himself. "Baby, I'll take anything you have to give. I don't want to ask for something that you're not comfortable giving." Taurus rests his head against mine and I feel his body relax. Giving him the space to figure out what he wants and how he wants seems to have diffused the situation.

Since I'm on a roll, I decide to be honest. "I enjoy seeing the earring. Would I like to sink my teeth in and drink you deep while you're pounding inside me? Oh yeah, absolutely, but not if it's going to be a problem. You are what is important to me." I look into his eyes, my expression earnest.

His fangs drop, and he growls, shifting under me. "That was not nice."

I wince, feeling the response to my words under my ass. "Oops. I'm sorry. I get carried away."

His eyebrow arches and he scans my face to look for a sign that I was purposefully taunting him. I shrug and give him a sheepish look, feeling badly that I riled him up while he's having a crisis of faith.

When he's satisfied, he nods. "I appreciate your candor, even if it's going to make it hell when I leave."

"I can move if it will help."

He shakes his head. "In a second. I want to hold you for a little longer."

I smile and lay my head on his shoulder. "That is always okay."

"I was toying with the idea of getting a tattoo."

I'm getting used to his abrupt changes of subject, so I follow along. "What kind?"

"I asked Damien to work up one like yours for me. I like the idea of a peacock with its tail draping down instead of up, but with one tail feather missing."

I can't help it; I beam. "That'd be neat!"

"If I do, would you put it on me?" He tilts his head, looking nervous.

"I'd love to." Who wouldn't? The last time we placed a Damien tattoo ended well for both of us. How can I resist literally branding him with a reminder of me?

He grins boyishly and bobs his head as if I've done him a huge favor. "Thanks." Sighing, he kisses the top of my head. "I really need to get out of here. I have lots of unpleasantness to deal with tonight."

"Okay, love." I don't tell him that tonight is the last night that I'm completely unfettered. Our three days are up. Lucky for me, it's at the time that we've stepped into a vast spiderweb of problems.

Lifting me as if I weigh nothing, he sits me on the couch and kneels next to it. "I love you, Deli."

"I love you very much." I brush a strand of hair off his forehead, wanting to sigh with the ache of knowing that our weekend is over.

"See you later, maybe?" His gaze is hopeful, and I don't know what to say. I have no idea what fresh hell I'll find at home and he's trying to make a big decision.

"Give me a ring."

No promises, but I didn't close the door, either. Good job, Deli.

Kissing me gently, he gets to his feet. "Later."

"Later, love." I murmur, watching him go. Once he's out the door, I gather up the stay-cation bag I'd hidden under the couch and straighten up.

It's time to go home to Kansas, Dorothy.