11. Kai

“I’m so sorry.” Sobs wracked my body, and I fell into Dante’s arms.

We stayed like that, him whispering he had me and nothing bad would happen, and me blubbering, drenching his shirt in tears and snot. Gross.

When my cries subsided, Dante gave me a tissue and led me to the couch.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

I did, but tea wasn’t going to solve my problems. “Sure.” Anything to put off confession time.

While Dante busied himself in the kitchen, I patted my belly, worried my emotional highs and lows would negatively affect my baby. Would it stunt my little one’s growth? Make them strung out, similar to if I’d been mainlining drugs? Maybe they’d cry all the time because of the adrenaline spiking and ebbing.

But the little one woke up, wriggled as usual for this time of day, and went back to sleep.

Looking out the window, I wondered where Gideon was and if he felt as shitty as I did. I had Dante, my beloved mate, but the polar bear shifter had no one. As I studied the crowds bustling along the sidewalk and crossing the road, my vision shimmered and wobbled, just like my TV used to when it was on the fritz. I used to smack it once, sometimes twice, and it’d be okay.

I gripped the windowsill as the image of outside blurred and a familiar scene struggled to replace it. It was the store where I worked in Pinedale, and Len was outside chatting to Ted. Len was brushing his fingers over a name tag, mine. I swallowed and blinked, telling the universe this was where I belonged.

The vision vanished and was replaced with the Martslock crowds. Everything was as it should’ve been, except what was in my head and my heart.

Slumping onto the sofa, I took the hot drink from Dante and sipped. The minty flavor with a hint of sweetness calmed my galloping heart, and I cradled my belly, thankful the baby only stirred but didn’t wake.

“Ready to talk about what happened?”

“No.” I swallowed more tea. “But I will.” Not about the vision or whatever it was. That was probably hormones or anxiety. “It’s Gideon.”

Dante pulled up a chair beside the sofa and placed his arms on his thighs, leaning forward so our heads were almost touching. I breathed in his cool breath and wanted to capture it, convinced it would show me the way forward and how I could balance my life.

“I gathered. Did you argue?”

I scrunched my eyes closed and gripped the hot mug, wishing we had fought. That would be easier to explain than what really happened.

“Worse.”

“He doesn’t want to see you again?” My mate’s eyes turned dark—his wolf—and his nostrils flared. “Where is he?” he yelled, his menacing voice sending goosebumps sprawling over my skin.

I placed a hand on his arm. “No. Nothing like that.” Taking his hand, I placed it on my cheek, the warmth reassuring me Dante was at my side. “He…” Not he. I couldn’t put all the blame on Gideon. I’d been a willing party to what we did. “We kissed.”

“And?” The rage evaporated from his body and face. The tension left his shoulders, and his expression softened. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Gods, no,” I fumed. “How could you say that?” Was I angry at myself for “cheating” on Dante or furious with him for only getting annoyed when he thought Gideon was gone, never to return?

Those early days in Tarrin had been terrifying and confusing, but maybe that was preferable to what was happening now.

“Then what?” My mate brushed his lips over my brow, and I wished we could go back to the day we met when he saved me and we got to know one another over again, with no second alpha wanting to mate me.

“We kissed.” I studied his face, waiting for emotions to ripple over it. But it didn’t change.

“Did you enjoy it?”

His reaction or non reaction angered me more, and I got up and headed to the window. But remembering what happened when I stood there minutes earlier, I closed the curtains and put my back to the glass.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.” Was I trying to hurt my mate or just trying to get a reaction?

“That’s good, isn’t it?” His brow crinkled as it did when he was puzzled.

“No, yes, I don’t know. You’re my mate, Dante. I don’t want to leave you for another.” I rubbed my eyes with my fists.

“You won’t. We’re bound to one another forever. Even when we go to the goddess, our love will still exist in the universe.”

This one or the one where Pinedale existed?

Dante led me to the couch and sat beside me. He pulled me close, and I inhaled his scent along with our laundry detergent.

“And Gideon?” My voice was muffled by his shirt.

“Maybe he’s destined to be part of our family.”

I grabbed his face with both hands. “How are you not jealous and ready to kick his ass?”

“That emotion doesn’t exist for Tarrin shifters, one of the reasons it was fascinating to watch The Secret Lives of Pinedale. The shouting, crying, the betrayal, the heartache. It was unfamiliar to us and drew us into the serial.”

“Did you want to experience that?” People watched movies, TV shows, and played games for many different reasons, often to block out their real life.

“Gods, no. All that pain and for what?”

“For what? So you’d get pissed at having to share your mate with a second person.” Trying to imagine it didn’t work, but I couldn’t deny I was attracted to Gideon.

“How about I cook a meal and we invite Gideon?”

“In our apartment?” Did I want the guy to see where I lived, where we’d created our baby, observe the room we’d set up for our little one? Not really, but I had to move forward. This limbo wasn’t helping me, my mate, the baby, or Gideon. I had to put my big-guy pants on and find out where this was leading. “How about we meet in a more neutral place?”

I wasn’t ready for Gideon to see how I lived my life with Dante.