Chapter Sixteen

*Reggie*

The house I’m sitting in feels a little too mundane for the thoughts crashing around in my skull. Ragnar is outside, giving me time to process like the gentleman he is, though the broken look on his face when he explained hurts my heart. He has an inner beast. A monster that drives his thoughts and desires. A monster that wants to fuck me senseless so that he can claim my Ragnar. Or merge with him. Ragnar can’t promise that he will be the same afterwards, but if he doesn’t then he will be lost.

Though, aren’t they both my Ragnar? That is the hardest thing to wrap my head around. I’ve obviously met his inner beast, even if I didn’t realize it. It is freaky, I won’t lie. The concept that he has a devil on his shoulder demanding chaos and mayhem. A devil so terrible that it shredded his entire society apart.

Females were kept from the males unless mated, and if the males didn’t mate? They went insane and murdered everything in sight until they were brought down. Their healers had barely started to cure the madness when the invaders took them all away. The concept is so foreign that it is hard to wrap my head around.

I’ve had awhile to get used to Ragnar, getting used to his other side seems exhausting to even consider. Yet, I do not want to lose Ragnar. If his beast is part of him, then I don’t truly have an option. I won’t let him go insane because of my fucked-up fears. We have far more in common than I originally thought.

I’m haunted by the demons of my past and he is haunted by the demon in his mind. Both sets of demons are quieted when we are together. The crushing weight of my past had all but disappeared until the unfortunate run in with the sheriff. His inner beast has been working with him to keep me safe…until I got turned on and ruined it all.

Sighing, I get to my feet and walk to the front door. Inner beast be damned. I made up my mind and I refuse to go back on it. As expected, I find Ragnar leaning against the door when I open it. He turns to his side to look at me. He looks very much like a kicked puppy, and I can’t stand it.

“Can you shift and come inside to talk?” A spark ignites in his gaze at my words, casting a quick look around for danger. When he senses nothing, he shifts and follows me through the house. I skip the living room and go straight for the biggest bedroom. Like the last house, this one is full of supplies including a king-sized bed. Even that will be too small for my massive mate.

Dropping his hand, I crawl onto the bed, turning so that my back is against the headboard. He doesn’t follow, standing at the side of the bed, confusion written on his beautiful face. Taking a deep breath, I consider what I must do. Anxiety grips my heart in an iron fist, but Ragnar deserves to know why I am always pushing him away. To know why my arousal earlier scared me so bad, and why I pulled away after.

Patting the bed beside me, I use the few seconds it takes him to climb in beside me to consider my words. There is no easy way to tell the male you love that were raped. For us to mate and solve both our problems, he has to know. An insidious, malicious voice in my head tells me that he might see me differently, that he might not care about me anymore if he sees me as broken. The thought that he might see me as dirty breaks my heart. It took me many long therapy sessions to break myself of using that word, but it all comes rushing back with my mounting fears.

“Regreee?” Ragnar questions, his hand finding my racing heart. Gently he lays his hand against my chest and just like that I calm down. My own hand finds his, bringing our fingers together.

“Ragnar, I have to tell you something about my past. It will help explain why I am so hot-and-cold with you, but I am afraid it will change how you look at me.” My words rush out of me in a huff, the honesty in them feels like I am laid bare before him. A smile flits across his face.

“Do you have a beast too?” He questions and I can’t help but laugh. He would think that was the worst possibility. I sober up quickly, my humor bleeding out of me. The memories threaten to slice me to pieces from the inside out and I almost chicken out.

“Worse. Do you remember when you first told me I was your mate?” His eyes darken with unspoken sadness when he nods. “I never hated the thought of being your mate. I hated the thought that I would have to face my own demons, and I wasn’t ready to do that. Not until I got to point my gun at them.” Knowledge sparks in his fathomless gaze.

“The sheriff.” He snarls and a deep, limitless emotion swell in me. Love. I love this male. He doesn’t even know their sin, but the knowledge that they hurt me is enough for him. It is ridiculous to worry that he would think less of me. I am not brave enough to tell him how I feel though, holding the new feeling close for just a little while longer. Does his species even experience love? Changing the subject, I answer his unspoken question.

“Yes and no. I used to work for the sheriff. I was a deputy, a peacekeeper in my world. It is a field that is filled with mostly men. I took my job seriously and didn’t take shit from any man. I gained a reputation around the office for being ‘frigid’ which just means that I didn’t flirt or have sex with any of the men in the office.” A deep growl interrupts me for a moment, and I can’t help but grin like a lunatic at him. “What?” I ask, already knowing what he will say.

“You will not be intimate with any other male besides me. Tell me the names of any who have touched you and I will remove them from this life and haunt them in the next.” He grits out, his words surprisingly eloquent. I’m pretty sure I haven’t said a few of those words for him to pick up on.

“Hush and let me finish the story.” I admonish and he snaps his jaws before falling silent once more. “My coworkers were quite rude about it, but I didn’t let it bother me. I was damn good at my job, and I wasn’t going to endanger it. One man took my denial personally. He kept pushing anytime we were together.

“It started out small. Harmless comments here and there. Then it escalated to unwanted touches. A touch to my shoulder, a brush of his hand across my back. I wasn’t oblivious and tried reporting him, but nothing was ever done. He was a ‘good ol’ boy’ and everyone tried to tell me he didn’t mean anything by it. It's just who he was.” The words taste bitter in my mouth, the memory still making me so unbelievably mad. My boss even threatened to write me up if I didn’t quit coming to him with my ‘petty complaints’. Fucking Sam.

“I will eat him.” Ragnar’s comment is not funny and yet I burst into laughter, letting his honest reactions act as a balm to my soul. No one else listened. No one was willing to fight for me and yet I have no doubt that if he were there, Ragnar would have handled it no matter what the law said.

“After this, I just might let you.” Taking a deep breath, I mentally prepare to tell the rest of my story. It feels like an inky shadow crawling from the depths of my mind. A shadow I have done my best to banish. It is a virus that has latched onto and tainted every thought afterwards. Before the attack, I was carefree and lived in a bubble that I thought was untouchable. Afterwards? I never felt that sense of security again. Until Ragnar.

“Tear him to pieces slowly so that he feels every bit of it.” Ragnar adds, his rage building. Might as well spit out the rest so that he can rage all he wants afterwards.

“One evening, I was ending my shift. We had a locker room where we kept our street clothes and personal items. I was getting my things when the lights went out. He came out of the darkness and shoved me face first into my locker. I wasn’t expecting the attack, I thought I was safe at the station. I wasn’t.

“I fought with everything in me and yet in the end it wasn’t enough. I was dazed after hitting the locker. He used that against me and before I could gain my wits, I was nude from the waist down. He had his pants off and was in the process of prying my legs apart.” I pause, tears streaming down my face as I remember the fear and confusion when I realized what Elijah’s aim was. The horror as he whispered filthy things in my ear, promising to thaw my frigid heart. In the end, I was too dazed to react fast enough. In a matter of seconds, he shattered my world to pieces. I don’t say this out loud though, I can’t find the words.

My eyes lock with Ragnar’s and the emotions burning in their depths snares my gaze. I can’t look away as he processes what I said and everything that was left unspoken. Sadness and rage fight for dominance over his face only to settle on something in between the two.

“My mate…” He says, at a loss for words. His presence is enough. Uncaring of the snotty sobs wracking me, I throw myself into his arms. They come around me, the cage of safety I so desperately want. Old fear mixes with my delayed reaction to seeing Elijah again. I turn into a mess against him and yet he never once lets his arms drop. He only holds me tighter against his beating hearts.

“So that is why I am always freaking out when something sexual happens or is mentioned. I want to experience that with you, with every fiber of my being and yet I am so scared of how I will react. I hurt you earlier by pulling away, I brought your beast out. I just don’t know.” I cry piteously.

“Slow. We will be slow and if there is no mating? Oh well. Just having you is enough.” He murmurs against my hair causing the barrage of tears to start again. He is too wonderful to me. I do not deserve him. My earlier resolve to keep my feelings to myself if shot all to hell.

“I love you Ragnar. I know it hasn’t been very long, I don’t even care if your species doesn’t feel it. I do and I can’t keep it to myself anymore. You make me feel safe and treat me like a princess even when I know I am not one. You are kind, smart, sweet and protective. You have always worried that your inhumanness would push me away, but I love that about you. You treat me like a human never could and I don’t think I’d be able to feel this for a man.” The words tumble out, but I don’t regret them. I mean every single one.

Ragnar pulls back to stare into my eyes before he speaks. “I feel love for you Regreee. I love you so much that I would pull my hearts out and present them to you if you asked. You are my mate.” His words are lilting, as if he must think over each one before he says them, but they sound like the finest poetry I’ve ever heard.

On an impulse, I sit forward to place a kiss on his scaly snout. It isn’t a normal kiss, but it heats my blood all the same. Ragnar is hesitant at first, but to my surprise he opens his mouth to lick at my lips. I open on a gasp of surprise, giving him an opportunity to thrust his tongue inside of my mouth. He is inexperienced but lust roars through me as our tongues dance against one another.

A vibration escapes him, sliding into my skin like a caress. My core clenches, drenching my thighs in arousal. His own snarl is intense as he pulls back with a savage groan. His normally azure eyes are a dark, deep blue like that of the deepest ocean. His breaths come out as pants and a bulge against my stomach sends a thrill through me.

“Sorry.” I mutter, blushing furiously. I just told him to go slow and here I was, mauling him. He smiles before slamming a hand over his snout.

“Slow.” He agrees before changing the subject to distract us both from the desire simmering just beneath the surface. His topic of choice is like a wet blanket on the flames of my lust. “So, the sheriff.”

“Yes, the sheriff. I immediately reported the attack, but no one believed me. Not even him. Despite the numerous other reports I’d made, he told me there was no credibility to my story. Right after the attack, I took myself to the hospital where I made the report. Even with physical evidence that I had been raped, he chose not to pursue the case. It destroyed all my faith in law enforcement and destroyed my career. Elijah made sure to spread the story that I was simply a whore that changed her mind afterwards and was crying rape.” I pull back to see how he is reacting to the rest of my story, but I freeze in place at the look of pure hatred and rage that twists his snout into something unrecognizable.

“Elijah.” He snarls and the name carries with it the promise of death.