His Worst Behavior

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Oh, okay."

"This is good news," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me. "My enemies, who have been threatening us, should back off. They're not stupid enough to go to war with me now. I have the numbers." He took a deep breath, seeming pleased. "We are safe."

My eyebrows raised. "Are we ever really safe?"

"You are," he answered, a seriousness to his tone. "I won't let anything happen to you. I'm doing all of this for you."

-

I woke up from a nightmare.

Heart racing, I instinctively looked at Roarke who was sleeping on his side, peacefully. All of his features were relaxed for once. With clammy hands, I peeled the sheets from my body and crawled out of bed, quietly making my way to the kitchen. I needed a glass of water - perhaps it would help ease the nightmare of me dying.

I was surprised to see Maurice cleaning the kitchen, humming to herself. Usually, she was already gone -  but she was Roarke's grandmother. I assumed she was welcomed whenever she pleased.

When she looked at me, she straightened her posture. I wondered if she was finally going to say something to me. 

Not caring too much, I proceeded to get myself a glass of water. She watched me with narrowed eyes, gripping the rag in her hands tightly. As the water filled my glass from the faucet, she moved closer to me, shaking her head.

"He marked you," she spoke, quietly. "You're his now. For good."

I turned off the water. "I guess I am."

"Are you going to leave him?" she asked, scrutinizing me. "Are you going to kill yourself?" I flinched at her bluntness and looked at her in shock. She smoothed her apron, her harsh eyes never straying from me. "It's the only way you'll be able to be free of him."

"No," I answered, hesitantly. "I-I don't want to."

"The bond is powerful, you see," Maurice said, calmly. "You will start to care more and more about him. The idea of leaving him will become painful - you will fall in love with him and you will finally understand his love for you."

I sputtered for a moment. "He doesn't love me." She gave me a look, placing a hand on her hip. "He's never said those words."

"Sometimes, a man doesn't have to say it for you to know," she responded, sighing. "What he does for you, his actions, just show how much he loves you." She turned away from me, tossing the rag onto the counter. "My grandson loves you, and as his grandmother, I need to support him and his decisions. You, as his mate, is one of his many decisions, so I have to support your future together."

I studied her. "But, deep down, you want me gone."

"You've hurt my grandson, many times," Maurice answered, not looking at me. "It's hard to support him with the woman who has caused him so much pain." I nodded my head, understanding her perspective. "But, maybe in time, I can forgive you."

"Okay," I murmured, moving across the kitchen. "Goodnight."

She nodded once.

I returned to the bedroom with my glass of water, taking small sips. I placed the glass on the nightstand, then crawled back into bed, only to wake up Roarke with my shuffling.

"What are you doing?" he moaned, tiredly peering at me. When he propped himself onto his elbows, his muscled shoulders and arms flexed. His various tattoos were staring back at me, just like his brown eyes that were lingering on my face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just had a nightmare," I told him, softly. "Go back to sleep."

"Not until you do," Roarke replied, "I'll stay awake with you."

My eyebrows furrowed together. "No, I probably won't be able to fall back asleep, so you should just get your rest."

"Do you want me to hold you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. I gave him a look and he inhaled deeply, holding back a yawn. "The bond can help ease your mind. My touch will mentally assure you that I'm here and I will protect you. You will relax."

I hesitated. "I'm not sure. . ."

"I won't grope you or anything," Roarke grumbled, a bit irritated. "I'll just have my arm around your waist. My scent will also please your wolf."

"You don't have to - "

"Let me help you," he interrupted, relaxing back on his side. He lifted his arm, indicating that there was a place for me under it. I bit my bottom lip, pondering my decision thoroughly. I decided that sleep was most important. I slowly curled myself into him, allowing his arm to rest on my waist. The warmth of his body made me tingly, loosening my muscles.

In a matter of minutes, I felt better.

"Those nightmares of yours," he murmured, breathing into my messy hair. "Let them come to life and face me. I dare them."

I almost grinned. "I think you'd win."

"Oh, I would," he said, confidently. "They're not so scary when you think about the nightmares you encounter every day." I frowned when his words processed in my mind. "I'm sorry that I'm one of your nightmares."

"Maybe one day, you won't be," I whispered, staring at the wall. "Do you consider me one of your nightmares? After everything I've done?"

He was silent for a moment. "No, you're one of those dreams that are too far from my grasp. I can never get you, I can never earn you, but I can always chase you and hope that I will get lucky."

My heart fluttered. "That's sweet."

He moaned in exhaustion.

"Goodnight, Roarke."

"Goodnight, little one."