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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, Tate battled to keep a lock on the rage that churned in his belly. He’d been close to finding a small element of calm, but then fucking Gideon had called and wiped it away. The only thing keeping Tate sane right then was the woman sitting in the back of the car—his mate.

He kept sneaking glances at her in the rearview mirror as he drove, needing to drink her in, seeking to remind himself that she was right there. Breathing. Safe.

Even pale from blood loss, she didn’t look the slightest bit weak. Tired, maybe. But not delicate or fragile. Her inner strength always shined through—that light never dimmed. Even so, the need to coddle and cosset and soothe her was like a living thing inside him. He probably needed that more than she did.

He wanted to take her to his house. Wanted Havana in his lair, where he could keep a close watch over her, where she could have peace and quiet to relax. But he didn’t bother to say as much, because he knew she wouldn’t agree to it. She didn’t yet know that things had changed for him. Plus, Aspen and Bailey would want her close for a short while—there was no way they wouldn’t follow her if she went elsewhere.

His cat bared a fang at Tate, in a funk because the man wouldn’t take her to their domain. The animal was an elemental creature; he had no interest in the delicacies of the situation. He wanted Havana safe, and he believed the safest place she could be was his territory. He hadn’t yet shaken off the panic he’d felt on hearing she’d been hurt.

Now that Tate had faced the truth of who Havana was to him, he knew he didn’t have to worry that his feline would ever withdraw from her. His cat would never give her up. Not for anything. He’d kill for her, lay down his life for her, strive to make her happy, but never let her go.

Tate realized something else, too. His cat hadn’t pulled away from other females because he had commitment issues, he’d done it because he wanted only one woman—his true mate; the only female he’d ever trust to never betray him.

Tate wondered how she would react to his upcoming declaration that they were mates. She clearly hadn’t sensed it, or she’d have stated it at some point. Something was blocking the frequency of the bond on her end. It might not be easy to convince her that they were true mates, but he wouldn’t stop stating his case until she at least admitted he could possibly be right.

Again, he glanced at both his passengers via the rearview mirror. You would think that, given what had just happened, they’d be a wreck. Havana had almost died, and Aspen had been forced to have a front seat to the drive-by. But neither were curled up in protective postures or staring into space, lost in their thoughts. Both were sitting upright, as alert and sober as marines.

He’d expected Havana to have had at least a small freak out on hearing she’d almost died. But when she’d woken at the shelter earlier and he’d told her what happened, she hadn’t paled or panicked or gone into shock. She’d taken his news with a little too much composure. He couldn’t help but get the feeling that it wasn’t the first time she’d taken a bullet.

There were many things he didn’t know about Havana … because he’d never asked. It wasn’t that he’d been disinterested. She’d intrigued him from day one, and he’d had hundreds of questions on the tip of his tongue. He’d wanted to know her better. He’d wanted to know what made her tick, how she became a loner, and where she came from. Each time she’d volunteered a hint of information, it had taken everything he’d had not to ask her to elaborate. He’d held back for good reason, but it hadn’t been easy.

He wouldn’t have to hold back from now on. He could ask whatever he wanted to ask. He could share with her whatever she wanted to know. He’d know her better than anyone else ever would, and vice versa—that was how it was with mates.

Finally nearing his destination, Tate again looked at the females via the rearview mirror. “I’m going to pull up outside the entrance of the complex so you can both head straight inside. I don’t want you standing out in the open for longer than necessary. Gideon probably won’t strike again today, but it pays to be cautious. Once you’re both safely inside, I’ll park the car and follow you in. Got it?”

Havana locked eyes with Aspen, who briefly frowned at her. He’d swear those girls could have entire conversations with eye-contact alone.

Both females met his gaze via the mirror and nodded.

Minutes later, he waited at the curb while they exited the vehicle and disappeared into the building. Tate then whipped the car into Havana’s usual parking space. Slipping out of the vehicle, he scanned his surroundings—including every rooftop—but saw nothing untoward.

He quickly spoke with Deke and Isaiah, making it clear that Havana needed to be escorted to and from her vehicle until all the bullshit had blown over. He also then dismissed them, Luke, and Farrell, since he’d be staying with Havana tonight. She might fight Tate on it, but he’d make sure he got his way in that. He didn’t add that she was his true mate, since it wouldn’t be fair to do so until he’d first had the much-needed conversation with her.

After giving Vinnie a quick call to relay what had happened, Tate headed to Havana’s apartment. She opened the front door, looking … harried. He heard the raised voices of Camden and Aspen, so he could hazard a guess as to what had put that look on Havana’s face.

“Hey,” she greeted simply. “Thanks for parking the car.” Her eyes dropped to the key fob he was holding. She held out her hand, palm up.

He placed the fob in her hand while carefully pushing his way inside the apartment, forcing her to shuffle backwards. “I’m still waiting on word about the license plate number. I’ll no doubt receive a call from River any minute now,” he said, knowing she’d be less likely to try to throw him out if she thought that having him close was the best way to get the info fast.

“Good,” she said. “I want to know who these bastards are and, more importantly, where they are.”

Walking into the living area, Tate looked at the two squabbling shifters, not happy that such a scene was playing out right in front of a clearly fatigued Havana. She didn’t need this right now. “What’s going on?” he asked her.

“Well … Camden tried calling Aspen just before the drive-by. She didn’t answer. He’s of the opinion that if she had, he would have heard the shot and could have ‘done something.’ Which, of course, is incorrect—he was too far away to help. Nonetheless, he’s furious with her. I think it just spooked him that one or more of the bullets could have hit her.”

Aspen’s gaze shifted to the ceiling. “God, Camden, will you just let it go?”

The tiger blinked. “Let it go?”

“It’s not like you could have reached through the phone and blocked the bullets or anything,” she snapped. “So what does it really matter that I didn’t take your call?”

“You didn’t take any of my calls.”

“I was kind of busy trying to stop Havana from bleeding out!”

“Yeah, I get that. But you could have called me afterwards. You didn’t.”

“I sent you a text on my way home,” she reminded him.

“Oh yeah, I remember it. ‘Havana got shot. Talk later.’ That made me feel a whole lot better.”

“Then why are you whining?”

“Woman, I was being sarcastic.”

The bearcat raised her hands. “Look, I really think you need to just chill.”

“Chill?” he echoed in a cold whisper. “All that blood on your tee could have been your blood, Aspen. Did you think of that? The bullets could have missed Havana and hit you.”

“I would rather they had. Watching my honorary sister almost die was not fun. Are you planning to at least tell her that you’re glad she’s okay?”

He cast Havana an aloof sideways glance. “Well, obviously, I’m glad. She knows that already.”

Havana snickered, unoffended that the only thing he was truly glad of was that the bullets hadn’t hit Aspen. Havana was just as glad of that. “Your heartfelt concern is so warming, Camden. Now, I realize you got a scare, but you need to stop with the yelling. What happened, well, happened. There’s no changing it. And you don’t truly want to yell at Aspen. What you really want to do is give her a hug and tell her you’re relieved that she’s fine.”

Havana turned to Tate and said, “I’m going to take a shower and pull on fresh clothes, I’m sick of smelling my own blood. If you want to head home and just text me whatever River tells you, that’s fine. But if you want to wait here, there’s plenty of food in the kitchen.”

With that, she padded to her room, still feeling a little off, thanks to the blood loss. Inside, she closed the door. Or tried to. It met some sort of resistance, and then Tate slipped into the room. Her heart jumped. “What are you—”

“Shh, I need to hold you a second.” He palmed her nape, curled his free arm around her, and buried his face in her neck.

Her eyes fell closed. God, he was so warm and solid and there. He wasn’t just holding her. It was more like he was trying to soak up the feel of her. And, because she kind of needed this too, she rested her palms on the twin columns of his back.

She’d push him away in a minute and order him out of the room. She truly would. For now, she’d let herself have this moment.

She could feel that his anger hadn’t yet subsided, but he’d locked it down. For her. So that she wouldn’t have to deal with his fury on top of her own. There was something very warming about that.

Her devil didn’t lean into him but nor did she object to his hold, despite that the animal ordinarily didn’t like to be fussed over or touched when in such a foul mood.

“I’ve needed to do this since the second I arrived at the shelter and saw you out cold on the sofa,” he said against her neck. “Watching the footage of what happened … fuck.”

Fuck indeed. It certainly hadn’t been one of the highlights of her year.

“I’ll never get it out of my head. Never. If there hadn’t been a healer at the shelter …” His arm tightened around her. “I thought having my enforcers follow you would be enough to keep you safe.”

“They tried to warn me. They helped Aspen get me inside. I’m grateful they were there.”

Pulling back, Tate stared down at her, and the lines of his face smoothed out … as if the sight of her relaxed him somehow. “We’ll get that fucker. Gideon and anyone else connected to the auction.”

“I know.” Because nothing else was acceptable to her or her devil. She tried stepping back, but he didn’t release her. “I really need to go shower. You’re welcome to wait in the kitchen or living—”

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low. “Don’t try to send me away. You’ve held your shit together well, and maybe you’re truly not shaken by what happened earlier. But I still don’t want you to be alone right now.”

In truth, Havana was a little shaken. Not because she’d been shot, but because she’d almost died. It had all happened so damn fast that she hadn’t really processed that she’d been shot—the darkness swallowed her before she had the chance to realize that she was going to die. And it didn’t help to know that danger still lurked in the shadows and could again reach for her at any moment. Still … “I won’t fall apart.”

“It wouldn’t make you weak if you did. And although you probably won’t have an emotional crash, I’d still rather you weren’t alone. I want you to know you have someone here with you. I want you to feel as safe as you possibly can.”

Havana could see he meant it. He wasn’t just spouting whatever might make her agree to let him stay. He was genuinely concerned and wanted to be close by. It was important to him that she didn’t feel unsteady or alone. And it galled her that it touched her, just as it galled her that he did make her feel safe—he always had.

If he’d tried to boss her into letting him stay, she could have stood firm against it. She could have ordered him out without a qualm. But whenever this big, strong, badass Alpha male went all sweet on her … her defenses just went poof. “Look, I get that—”

“No, you don’t get what’s happening here. Not yet. But you will once we’ve talked. That can wait until after you’ve showered.”

“Once we’ve talked? Talked about what?”

His fingertips dug into her nape as he massaged the muscle there. “There’s a lot I need to explain. A lot you need to know.”

“So tell me.”

“I’ll lay it all out for you once you’ve done what you’re desperate to do, which is to wash the day away. What I have to say can wait.”

“Just tell me this: is it something bad?”

He traced the shell of her ear with his finger. “No, nothing bad. Things have changed for me. In a good way. I swear, I’ll explain everything soon. First, shower.”

Havana crushed the hope that tried to blossom in her stomach. She wasn’t going to let her thoughts run away with her. She knew better than to allow that.

She also knew better than to let him hang out in her bedroom. This was not him giving her space. But she didn’t want to throw him out. She wanted to hear what he had to say. If she sent him away, she’d spend the rest of the day wondering what he would have said.

Havana sighed. “All right. Wait here.” She kicked off her shoes and padded into the en suite bathroom … and realized he was following her.

She turned, about to order him out. But the words got trapped in her throat when he whipped off his shirt. Damn, the guy had muscle to burn.And, Jesus, those abs were just perfection. Then there was the spectacularly defined V of his hips …

He was far hotter than any man had a right to be. She didn’t think the sheer impact of all that deliciousness would ever ease up. Not ever.

She was so busy ogling him that she didn’t snap out of it until he gathered the edges of her stained tee. She gripped his arms, thinking it would not be good for them to be naked together. “Wait, you—”

“I’m not going to try to fuck you. I just want to take care of you. Let me,” he said, his voice low—an order couched as a request. He slowly peeled off her tee and dropped it on the floor. And although she told herself she should put a stop to this, she didn’t protest when he removed the rest of her clothes, or when he finished undressing. Nor did she protest when he herded her into the shower, soaped her down, and washed her hair.

He was so careful with her. Tender, even. Each touch was so soothing and reverent it made her throat burn.

Once they were out of the shower, he looped a towel around his waist and then wrapped another around Havana. He gently patted her dry with the soft, plush towel. There was nothing sensual or provocative about it, but her hormones were still a hot mess. Knowing, feeling, he was hard only made her so much more aware of his every touch, his every breath, his every move.

When he ushered her into the bedroom, she expected him to try his luck getting her into bed—which would have gotten him booted out of the room. He didn’t try anything, though. He pulled on his clothes while she dragged on underwear, a racerback tank, and yoga pants. He then sat her between his thighs on the end of the bed and carefully brushed the tangles out of her wet hair. It was … nice. Relaxing. Intimate. And utterly out of character for him.

They’d showered together before, but he’d never … ministered to her like that. Never made her the center of his entire focus as he washed and dried her. Her devil kind of liked it, but the ever-moody animal still gave him the stink eye just because.

Placing her brush on the bed, he snaked his arms around her waist and tucked his chin in the crook of her neck. “You good?”

“I’m good.”

“Hungry?”

A little, but … “You said there are things you need to explain to me.”

“Right.” He lifted her, spun her to face him, and set her on his lap to straddle him—all of which he did with a casual strength that made her toes curl. He smoothed his hand up her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, and up to her neck. “Could have lost you today. You’re thinking you’re not mine to lose.” Still cupping her neck, he tugged her face closer to his. “You’re wrong.”

Tensing, Havana frowned. “What?”

“When I heard you’d been shot, it rocked me. Sent my inner world fucking spiraling. My emotions were all over the place, and my mind was a mess. Then my mental shields came crashing down, and I had to admit to myself what I’d been consciously unable to face until now. You’re my mate, Havana.”

She did a slow blink, unsure she’d heard him right. “You’re … I don’t … Wait, what?”

He stroked his hand over her hair. “You’re my mate. My true mate. My everything.”

She tilted her head, studying him closely. “You don’t look high.”

His mouth twitched. “That would be because I’m not.”

“Tate, you aren’t thinking clearly. Maybe this whole drive-by thing sent your overprotective nature into overdrive—”

“Yeah, it did. I haven’t felt rage like that in a long time. I forgot how much it chokes you. How it squeezes your chest and rips at your insides. It fucked with my head for a while. I might have found some calm, but I’m feeling pretty hyper-protective right now.”

“And when that wears off—”

“I’ll still be telling you that I know we’re mates,” he finished.

Her heart beating like crazy, Havana shook her head. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re … I don’t know, I don’t get why you’d think we’re mates.” And yet, the words felt … right, somehow.

“I don’t think it, I know it.” Tate smoothed a hand up her back. He could understand why she was confused and conflicted, but for him, it was the opposite. He’d been restless for days, but he felt calmer now that he’d faced the truth. Everything seemed a lot clearer when she was there. Like she eased the chaos in his mind. “I told you my mother was killed by a rogue shifter, right?”

She double-blinked. “Yes.”

“He went rogue because he lost his true mate. And when I watched my dad almost waste away right in front of me because he lost his own, I couldn’t help but ask myself if true-mate bonds were worth the pain and destruction they cause when they snap. Then, after the clusterfuck with Ashlynn, I was in no rush to try imprinting again.”

“You loved her,” said Havana, her voice quiet.

“I thought I did back then. I thought we had a future. I was wrong on both counts. Just as I was wrong to believe she loved me. She couldn’t have, considering all the promises she made meant nothing. Feeling the imprint threads snap … It was a nightmare. Waves of pain or strong emotions would strike me at random times. There were headaches and short periods of depression. It was like being on an emotional seesaw.

“In sum, all my issues about mating blocked the frequency of our bond.”

“And now, just like that, you’re no longer so averse to finding your mate?” she asked, clearly skeptical.

“It was the bond I was reluctant to accept, not you. Never you. Once I realized that you’re mine, my hang ups just lost their power. Because I would rather have you and take the chance that it could all go wrong than give you up again—I don’t have it in me to do it a second time.”

Havana felt those words worm their way inside her and burrow deep. When he’d said he wanted to talk, she hadn’t imagined he’d claim they were mates. She didn’t feel the tug of the mating bond. And although that didn’t mean he was wrong, it also made her reluctant to believe he was right, despite his claim seeming to settle something inside her.

“I wish it hadn’t taken you getting shot to open my eyes. What happened today … the thought that I’d fucked around, wasted time, and could have lost you before I’d even had the chance to claim you … it was the kick in the gut I needed but wish I hadn’t had, because I hate that you almost died.” He snaked his arms around her. “I failed you by letting my issues jam our bond. I won’t let you down like that again.”

She swallowed. “How is your cat feeling about all this?”

“He’s on the same page as me. He wants no one but you. Before, I couldn’t have guaranteed he’d always feel that way, which was why I gave you up. But now that I know you and I are mates, I can tell you for certain he’ll never let you go.” His arms contracted around her.“And neither will I.”

They both stilled when his cell began to ring.

Tate fished it out of his pocket. “I need to take this,” he told her. He swiped his thumb over the screen and said, “Tell me you have good news, River.” His eyes went hard, and his jaw clenched. “Shit. … Yeah … All right, gotta go … Later.” He rang off.

“It wasn’t good news,” she guessed.

“No, it wasn’t. The license plate number didn’t match the vehicle. I don’t know if the driver or shooter stole the plate, but it didn’t belong to the Charger.”

She groaned, exasperated. “Would it really be too much to ask that the universe send dumb criminals our way who struggle to cover their tracks?”

“I’d rather no criminals were sent our way.” Tate brushed her bangs out of her face. “The bastards are gonna pay, Havana. No one harms what’s mine and lives.”

There was that “mine” word again. There was so much feeling in it, so much conviction. And she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t like hearing him say it. But she had to be honest with him, even knowing it might slice at his ego. “Tate, I don’t say this to hurt you, but … I don’t feel the pull of the bond, I’m sorry.” She thought he’d frown or scowl or curse. Instead, his expression softened.

“I already know that, baby. I can’t exactly judge you for that—I didn’t feel it myself until a few hours ago. I’m a lot of things, Havana, but I’m not delusional. I know you’re mine. Every cell of my body is screaming it at me. Do you think I’d lie about that?”

“No. I just … I don’t know, it’s hard to process what you’re saying.” She felt blindsided, and her thoughts were all jumbled.

“What does your devil think?”

“She’s doing a lot of haughty sniffing—it’s kind of her thing. When I ended our fling, she thought you’d protest and offer me more. But you let me go, and she sort of slammed a mental door on you.”

His eyes sharpened. “Ah, I see. Then I need to make her re-open it. I need to win back her trust and prove myself to her.” He slid his hands into her wet hair. “She probably feels a little betrayed that I was once open to imprinting on another female. Do you?”

It hurt, but it had happened long before Havana walked into his life, so he hadn’t exactly betrayed her. But she realized then that a small elemental part of her did actually feel betrayed. Which made no sense. Unless he was right. “You truly, honestly, definitely believe that we’re mates?”

“With everything in me.” He dabbed a feather-light kiss on her mouth. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t absolutely certain. It’s okay that you’re not so sure—I’m sure enough for both of us. That I promise you.”

Looking into his eyes and hearing the utter sincerity in his voice, it was impossible not to believe him. Did that mean he was right in his belief? No. But he certainly thought he was. And, given the almost primal way her entire being seemed to respond to his assertion, she was starting to think that just maybe he had reason to be so certain.

“I almost marked you that day you ended the fling, you know. I could feel you slipping away from me, and I hated it. The urge to bite you just bubbled up. It hasn’t left me. Look, I’m not declaring that I need to claim you straight off. I don’t want to claim you until you know all the way down to your soul that I’m yours. Otherwise, it wouldn’t mean what it should mean to you. If you and your devil need time to see the truth, I’ll give it to you. I can be patient. But I don’t plan to leave your side much—you should know that now. Don’t ask me to give you space. That I can’t do. It would go against everything in me. Especially right now, while danger is shadowing you. So don’t ask that of me, baby. I’ll give you anything but that.” He breezed his fingertip over her lower lip and then dropped his hand. “Tell me something. If you discovered I was right and that we’re mates, would you be disappointed?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s not that I don’t want us to be mates. I just can’t sense the bond.”

“I suspect the mental door your devil closed is partly responsible for that. You must have a few issues of your own or you might have sensed the bond before she closed that door. We’ll work out whatever’s blocking the frequency in time. For now, we build on what we have. I’ll do my best to win over your devil.”

His latter comment made her devil narrow her eyes, but she didn’t bark or chuff or put up a protest. Still, she clearly wouldn’t make it easy for him. She’d make him work for it. Which she surely wouldn’t bother to do if she didn’t recognize him as hers.

“At least admit it’s possible that we’re mates, Havana.”

She pulled in a deep breath. “It’s possible.” Why else would his assertion feel right? Why else wouldit settle and satisfy some elemental part of her?

Plenty of other things pointed to it being true—their elemental attraction, how hard it had been for her to walk away from him, how he had a way of making her feel safe, how strongly her devil had reacted to his failure to offer her more. And then there was the sense of betrayal that sat in the pit of her stomach at the knowledge that he’d almost mated with another.

“More than possible,” she added. “Probable, even.”

“Probable?” he echoed, a note of hope in his voice.

“Yes. I mean, I found it hard to believe initially—you threw me off-guard, and I already had so much going on in my head. But the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. And when I hear you say it, it … I don’t know, it just calms me in some way. Plus, my devil isn’t protesting, which is a telling point. I just can’t say it with all certainty, because I don’t feel the presence of the bond.”

“Yet,” he said. “You will in time. For now, it’s enough that you’re fully open to the idea.” He paused. “You’ll give me the chance to earn your devil’s trust? You’ll let us build on what we have?”

Havana sank her teeth into her lower lip. It was hard to reach for something you wanted so much when you didn’t feel sure to your bones that it was yours to reach for. But every instinct she had insisted he was hers, and her gut had never led her wrong before. She didn’t think it was leading her wrong now either. “I can agree to that.”

Tate studied her face for a long moment. One corner of his mouth lifted, and he hugged her tight. “If we hadn’t been true mates, I still would have come to you at some point and offered you more. I couldn’t have made you any promises, but I’d have agreed to try ‘more’ and see where it went. You probably would have decided not to take a chance on my cat, given his history of withdrawing from women. But I’d have asked anyway.”

“I would have taken the chance.” If for no other reason than that she’d have always wondered what could have been if she hadn’t.

His inky blue eyes warmed. “Yeah?”

She gave a slow nod. “Yeah.”

“Even knowing we could have crashed and burned?”

“You and your cat are worth the risk.”

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