My Husband and My Mate

Chapter Thirteen

{A.N. Sorry, before I let you get on with this chapter, I have to say something. This chapter snuck up on me like a ninja. I didn't see it coming. I was trying to write a private chapter for the R rated companion story, then this happened. This wasn't even the next "planned" chapter of the story. Here I go trying to be professional, and this happened. Enjoy.}

*Chapter Thirteen*

*Not Edited*

*Victoria P.O.V.*

Walking back into my house, I had a sinking feeling in my gut. This was it. The moment my life crashed down around my ears. My eyes started to sting and I could feel the weight builiding in my chest. It felt like a heart attack. Like my heart had been seized by some invisible hand, and crushed. Yes, a crushing. I felt it bleeding between those phantom fingers. My throat started to burn as a whimper of pain escaped me. How could I not? The pain was too much. I couldn't have kept quiet, it was like telling a woman in labour not to scream.

I felt him then. Damon's arms wrapped themselves around me, pulling me back into his chest. I let him. For once though, I did not feel those pleasant tingles signifying our bond. You would think I would be happy. I could pretend it was all a bad dream. The fact I couldn't feel, proof of the pain ripping through me. If anything, it made it worse. If the Goddess, or God, or whoever, took Damon from me too, I would be alone.

As I grew comfortable with the warm comforting presence behind me, I let it go. Let all the pain and fear and confusion out. I let the sobs choking me from the inside out into the world. It wasn't pretty and far from sexy. It was hoarse and raspy and full of keening. Damon's arms tightened around me. A secure base I was tied too. Without any words he held me, showing me he was there. He would always be there. Being held so tight made me feel safe in my grief. Safe enough to break apart, knowing he would help put me back together again.

My knees collapsed and he kept me upright, before settling us down on the ground. With us both sitting, he could move one of his hands. He did, moving me around till I was facing him.

Then he palmed the back of my head, moving it to his shoulder. I did it without thinking. Moving myself till my face rested in the crook of his neck. Sniffing in his scent between my cries soothed me. His other hand moving in comforting swirls over my back.

After a while, I ran out of tears. It was still the middle of the day, and I was exhausted. I wearily lifted my head up and away to look at Damon. His poor face. Lifting my hand, I touched his split lip. It already looked much better. Werewolf healing at it's best. I tried not to think about Michael and what he must look like. I needed a breather between breakdowns.

"I know, I'm twice as sexy with all these manly injuries. You don't have to say it." He said, giving me one of his signature smiles. I choked on the laugh that came. Bless him, trying to lift my spirits with silliness. It didn't work, but it was sweet that he tried.

"Actually, I was thinking what a shame if you got all scarred. I mean, what would you do if you didn't have that pretty face?"

A surprised bark of laughter came after my little comment.

"There's my girl." He picked me up, carrying me inside, and I was shocked. I'm not a super curvy girl, but I do have a bit of extra stuffing. He carried me as if I weighed nothing. I felt delicate and feminine. Even Michael couldn't carry me for long. Dàmnit. There I go again. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck inhaling him in. Snow purred, comforted by the scent of her mate so close. Snow being calmed, helped me to calm. He finally, almost reluctantly, set me down on the sofa.

"I'm going to make you something to drink. Be right back." Saying that, he walked off into the kitchen. Not sure what he was going to make. We didn't have any alcohol. I needed alcohol.