Chapter 20

Rome

"You came." The greeting managed to sound flat and hard, not dripping with filth.

Seren's eyes widened on the doorstep of his condo. The nights arrived with more speed now, as their part of the world readied itself for winter. By eight, it had been dark for a few hours already. The chill of the night bit through his t-shirt, but seeing Seren again, an angel on the threshold of the hell that he was, made warmth pool low in his stomach. It was the first time since the last time he saw her that his chest didn't feel like a mess of razorblades and hot metal.

His heart was still a mess, beating like it was going to kill him, just not the molten metal kind.

He wanted to take her face between his palms and assure himself she was real. Briar May said not to hold out hope. He shouldn't have, but that's exactly what he'd been holding out for the past two months. It wasn't logical, but logic didn't have anything to do with Seren. It never had.

His legs felt watery and weak. It was either step back or fall over. "Do you want to come in?" How was it that his voice sounded so normal when he was going to black out?

She bit down on her bottom lip and looked around him. Her little gasp was the most adorable thing, echoing through the empty space. "Are you serious?"

He'd made dinner and kept it in the oven. It was ready for eight, but he would have kept it there until it was morning, and the chicken and pasta was dried out and shriveled. He would have left the candles burning and let the white roses on the table wilt down to nothing. He would have sat there all that time, each breath hurting like a motherfucker, waiting for her.

It was more than a relief when she stepped in and let the door shut behind her. She could have told him to go fuck himself and walked away. He would have let her go. What other option was there? This had to be her choice. He'd forced her before, blackmailed, manipulated, done the worst of it. This time, he had to let her take those steps on her own. She would either walk to him or away from him, and either way, he had to accept her decision.

He'd been holding his breath, and now that he let it out, that was a relief too. His chest was a minefield, hard packed earth with rusty, sharp corners, but having Seren in his space, choosing to be there, was like a farmer taking loving control over barren land, clearing brush and farrowing, removing all that debris until nothing remained but fertile, soft soil.

She took one step in and he took one step forward and then it happened.

He couldn't hold himself up any longer.

He thought it might just have been his imagination that his legs were weak, but it wasn't. It was real. That was his truth, to end up on the floor, bowed before her.

She gasped again. Her hands hovered over his shoulders for a few seconds before they landed on his arms. He kept his head bowed, the pressure too much for him to bear. It was going to split his skin. It was going to tear him in half.

"Rome." Seren's hands were steady and gentle. She'd seen him injured plenty of times, and each time, he'd tried to keep his pride, but this time, there was no pride left.

She was there. She'd come. She wouldn't have come if she didn't care. If she didn't believe that what they'd done meant more than just the evil that had been done to her. She could easily have said no, but she'd driven to his place. She'd put her faith in him one more time, all on her own, and now her hands were resting on his shoulder. One moved, caressing his hair, her fingers tangling in the black strands. The other skated over his jaw and tilted his face up.

"What's happening? Are you okay?"

No. Jesus fuck, no. No, I'm not okay, but now you're here.

His sinuses burned like he had an infection. The pressure behind his eyes and nose mounted until his skull ached.

He wanted to pull himself up, to get to his feet, but he remained where he was. His lungs were deflated by the shrapnel moving around in his chest. He was bleeding on the inside. He'd been that way for so long, how was he even still alive?

"How do I ever say that I'm sorry for what I did to you? I've missed you. I thought I knew emptiness before, but… but… no . Meeting you was torture. You are torture. I'm almost certain now that I can't survive without you."

"Rome." She tugged at his shirt, her tone insistent and hard.

He stumbled upright, propelling himself, hoping he could get there. He swayed when he stood like an already broken tree in a windstorm.

There weren't tears in her voice, but they were there on her cheeks. She'd gone pale. Ashen. Her skin was like porcelain against her dark eye makeup and her scarlet lips, her bright pink hair. Tears glistened in her eyes, darkening and crystalizing the blue like icebergs in frigid water.

"Rome, I… Please don't get on your knees."

"Please don't get on my knees or please don't apologize? Please don't make it harder when all you want to do is forget what happened, or please don't tell you what I've finally been able to admit to myself was the truth? Please don't tell you that if you'd let me, I would be honored to be your everything, even if that doesn't include being mates?"

"We don't love each other." There was such naked fear on her face that his stomach clenched and churned. He'd made dinner, but he couldn't imagine eating a thing.

"Does that mean you know that I can't love you properly because I'm incapable, being made the way I am?"

She shook her head viciously. "Please don't say that. What I mean is that we don't love each other. What our bodies say is different than our hearts. You're moving. You're leaving. How do you think that it could ever work? I'm not going to give up what I've built here."

"I know. But you have two days off a week. You could visit. We could come back. It would mean driving, but what are a few hours a week?"

"I like my days off. They're not to be… they're not to be monopolized for something like this." She inhaled shudderingly and dashed at her cheeks like she was desperate to remove the moisture. "We both said we never wanted a mate. I even went as far as to say that I never want to be in a relationship again."

"I could be everything that isn't that."

"You mean friends who fuck?" Her nose scrunched. She clearly found the idea distasteful. "In the name of honesty, I'll admit that I found you attractive and that yes, okay, I wanted you before the stupid contract. The reason I went to you and not anyone else, even if I saw you as my last shot, wasn't because—it wasn't what I told myself it was. I never truly hated you for what you did. Only myself, for liking it. What does that make me?"

"Human? Wolf? A woman who is powerful enough to take what she wants?"

"I wasn't the one taking."

He blinked at her. "Weren't you?"

She slow blinked back. "Signing that contract was not a form of dating."

"What if going forward

is?"

Her eyes fixed on the table behind him, still in the kitchen with the four chairs surrounding it. He'd set up two places, bought two dozen white roses, even gone as far as to find taper candles and candleholders. He'd done what he'd never done in his life and made an effort to be romantic.

"Are you asking me because you're afraid of making another mistake? Because letting Lila go was the worst thing you ever did? Are you asking because you're lonely, because you want a mother for Waverly, because you've decided that you want to repair a life and live it the way you see other people living it, blend in, make an attempt to be normal?"

"No. But letting Lila go was a terrible thing. That's the past. I can't undo it. She's no longer here."

"Are you still in love with her?"

He could have died at that question. "Some part of me will always be, because she was my first love, my greatest mistake, and the worst tragedy of my life. She's Waverly's mother and I'll always see her in Waverly. There's no forgetting. If I could go back, I would save her life by refusing to ever see or speak to her again. Although, I'm not sure that would have been enough. I'm not sure that making her my mate and keeping her with my pack would have been enough. No matter how much I might have loved her or thought I loved her, I'm not sure we would have ended up together in the end."

"Why would we, then, when neither of us want it?"

Why indeed? He'd given very few people the truth, but Seren deserved it. If he wasn't fully honest, he'd never see her again. That wasn't speculation. It was a truth he sensed. "All the semantics and arrangements and fears aside, do you want it? I didn't think I did until I met you, and then I wasn't honest. It was more than just your body I wanted. I thought that owning you was the solution. I thought I could just let you go. I know I can't. Despite what I might want, I can't. Not unless you demand it. If you tell me here and now that never seeing me again is what you need, I would respect that because I want to respect you."

Her brows shot up. "I'd become another mistake?"

"No. This time, I'm not letting you go. I'm not going to shut up and disappear. I'm going to tell you how I feel and I'm going to fight for it. It's not what I wanted, and it might not be what I want right now, but you're inside me and what I want no longer matters. You're a complication. You're heartache. You're a blind spot. Knowing you and wanting you makes my life vastly more difficult. I would never pretend to be good for you. I would try to provide and be good at that, for you and Waverly, should you ever want to be included. I come with all the baggage and all the strings you could imagine. I can't begin to list the things that are wrong with me. Half of them I probably don't even know the technical terms for. I've been blunt and honest with you because I couldn't seem to do anything else, however annoying that might have been. You know that I haven't lived a good, clean life. That I'm not father material and certainly not mate material. You know I'm a bit of a monster, that I have barely any soul left, that I have only a sliver of a conscience. Your body wants me anyway. Your mind says something else. Your reason is against it. I'm firmly in the same position. And yet. Here we are."

She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Very romantic."

"It's not. Nothing about this or me has been. I haven't dated you. I've tried to demand, take, and force. That was wrong, so I'm here, choosing you, despite my better judgement."

"Jesus god, that's still not doing it. You're going to have to up your game here."

His lips twitched. If she was truly angry, he'd know. It was there in her voice, but it wasn't reflected in her voice or her eyes. They were still that deep, icy, watery blue. "That's the truth. It might not be romantic, but there it is. I'm going to choose you even though all of me says no. If you choose me too, you know exactly what you're getting with zero promise of anything better or any change going forward."

He waited for her response. And waited. He wouldn't rush her.

He just feasted on the sight and nearness and the sweet late-night scent, tangerine scent of her. That was new. She'd never smelled like citrus.

Seren's golden beauty came from the light of the sun trapped inside her. It mingled with the dark of night and turned into something he could bathe in, stand in, look directly at without fear of being blinded. She was good even though she hadn't always known it from the world and all that was in it. She'd rarely seen it from him. Had anyone?

He wasn't worthy of her. He wasn't worthy to stand in her presence and gape at her in awe. He wasn't worth his family's forgiveness and continued love and support. He wasn't worthy of the child who called him papa. He wasn't worth even a fraction of what this woman needed.

She should condemn him. Look at him with disgust and pity. That wasn't why she'd come.

Fuck, it hurt.

It hurt worse than loss, worse than the grief that had hollowed him out, stealing the few good parts of him that had existed before. It was a hole through him and all that was left was jagged edges that could never be stitched together.

She wasn't going to try. She wasn't going to put him back together.

She was here for him exactly the way he was.

She was here and she didn't hate him or pity him. He didn't disgust her. She didn't think he was a monster.

Finally, he couldn't wait any longer. He had to keep going. This was the only confession she'd ever get from him. It was apology, plea, and promise all in one.

"I'm twisted. Dark. Wrong. I have the worst kind of soul. It's not no soul. It's still there. But it's black. Warped. Disgusting. I'm so fucked up. You won't be able to shape me and remake me. I'm never going to be the kind of man you'd brag about to your parents."

"Okay."

His legs went weak again, but thankfully he didn't end up on the carpet for a second time. "You don't—"

"Yes, I do understand. Believe me, I do. You've taken zero pains to hide yourself from me and I think there's a reason for that."

Yes. Because there was no point in hiding when she would have seen it all and known it all anyway.

"You didn't want to touch me because it would make this real."

"Yes."

"If you touched me, there would be no going back."

"That's right."

"You'd be tortured and lost. You'd be the one to surrender."

"Yes."

"What would happen if I touched you?"

He let out the shakiest exhale. "The same. The very same. You would own me. Every bit of me. Man. Wolf. Body. Soul." As if she didn't already. He'd been so afraid before that she'd know it, and that knowledge was the key to all power. He'd sought oblivion, but having her obliterate him? It didn't seem like a thing that could work in his favor.

He handed her the keys now. Why not? He was already a man haunted. Having her own him wasn't nearly as bad as facing the prospect of losing her forever. He didn't know how it could ever work now that they lived in two different places. He wouldn't ask her to give up her world and her life. He'd give himself anyway. Freely. Now. Always.

"I shouldn't, then."

"You should."

If she walked away, he'd be nothing. He was crushed with the force of his need to put his hands on her. He wanted to wrap their fingers together and guide her palms to him. He wanted to pull her into him and give her what he should have given her from the start. He wanted her body, but he craved what was beneath. He wanted to own that, but only when she was willing to give it to him.

"I should leave. Now. Before it's too late."

"It's far too late." He couldn't stop himself. He took her hand, and she hissed out a painful breath. He positioned the palm on his shoulder.

She controlled her breaths like she was martialing her courage, summoning strength. She stared at him without a single ounce of horror. She barely touched him, her finger tracking along the collar of his t-shirt. He should have dressed up for her. He'd wanted to, but thought she'd find it ridiculous if she showed up and he had a suit on. All he wanted was the clothes in a shredded heap on the floor anyway.

She touched him like he was delicate and fragile, like he could be wounded.

It should make him want to laugh, but it didn't. He'd never been touched like he was worthy.

He bent his head and kissed the crown of her head. Her hand splayed out on his chest. It shouldn't have hurt, but it did. The ache was a rabid beast charging through him, spearing his insides with its horns. He tipped her face up and waited for her decision.

Either way, she'd break him. She'd broken him already, but if she left, he'd be destroyed. She could kill him now, if she chose.

"You're a bastard and I hate you. I hate that we met at all. I hate that you're here." Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I hate that my answer is yes, when all it should ever be is no."

He froze. He lowered his hand slowly and stepped back. This wasn't the way he wanted her to come to him. Hating it the entire time. Despising him. Desperate to be free.

She shook her head and advanced, shoving him. She pushed him hard and he stumbled back to give her space. She pushed him again, until his back hit the wall.

"Yes," she growled. "Yes, because I can't stop thinking about you. It's more than want. It's need . I can't stop needing you. I can't stop missing you. You're not about what I want or don't want. You're about what I need. Maybe we are fated, because if I turn you away, I know it will kill you, but it will kill me too. I don't want you out of guilt or spite. I don't want you to change. I don't know how we'll make it work, but since that stupid contract, I've been less than whole."

"You wanted to sign yourself over to me."

"Yes. Fuck you."

"If you want to, you have full access."

He opened his arms and kept his back against the wall.

Could you ever love someone as broken as me? Could your wolf? Would you allow me to spend the rest of our lives trying to give you the world, or at least every happiness in our small space of it?

He couldn't ask, but he didn't have to. She searched his face and then a low, feral, half-wounded noise tore from her throat.

She lunged forward, dragging his face to hers and kissing him brutally. She was mean about it. He didn't hold back. Kissing her was life. She'd given him her answer. She clung to him instead of leaving. Only two souls on the same plane, two wolves destined to run and live together, could commune so silently.

Her kiss was the most perfect of all the silent languages.