From: Dante (8:11 P.M.)
Your brothers want to know what you'd like for Christmas.
Another ping of my phone.
From: Dante (8:11 P.M.)
Let me rephrase that: I do not know enough things that make you happy so your brothers have ordered me to ask you what you would like because I do not know enough.
I shook my head at his texts. Of course my brothers would do that.
To: Dante (8:12 P.M.)
I don't want anything.
Rereading his second text, my eyes narrowed in on a single word he sent, and my eyebrow cocked.
To: Dante (8:13 P.M.)
Why is a prince taking orders from rogues?
"Do you have games on your phone?" Venice asked, glancing up at me.
I hadn't even realized she was watching me on the phone, and then her bringing attention to me made all the other women glance at me. Oh, hell.
"Uh, no." I finally replied.
Venice tilted her head. "What are you doing?"
"Venice, adults use phones for more than games." Maggie intervened, giving me an apologetic look.
Ping!
From: Dante (8:16 P.M.)
I'm pretty sure you're getting gifts. And I misspoke—they didn't order, their clear sadness and loss of what to do appealed to me, their Prince, and I am granting their request.
My eyes rolled at his text. I quickly silenced my phone so I wouldn't annoy the others. Venice was sitting on the couch next to me—she saw me sit down and immediately jumped up next to me—my mom was in the chair next to the couch, Maggie was sitting next to Venice on the other end of the couch, and Lucy was in the kitchen.
"Can we watch another movie?" Venice asked. We already had some kid channel playing on the television, but she must not have been interested.
"No, baby. It's late. Santa is coming soon so you have to be asleep when that happens."
Venice replied with a yawn, leaning into me. I tensed up, staring down at her. Her eyes were closing, those long lashes fanning her cheeks.
"I'm only a little tired." She said, and then added, "Santa comes later."
Maggie sent me an apologetic look. "I think it might be bed time for you, Venice."
She shook her head, sitting back upright and rubbing her eyes with her fists. "No. Please, mommy." She pouted.
Maggie sighed. "Only because it's Christmas Eve. I'll give you until nine, okay?"
Venice nodded happily.
Lucy came back into the room, a can of some liquid in her hand. "So, where is Max's work taking you guys next, Maggie?"
"Well, it's looking like Iceland for Caracallan, but it might be Russia. Either way, it's going to be six freezing weeks in places neither of us can have conversations in."
"After that, you guys are done for a couple months, right?" My mom asked, taking a sip of her wine.
"We're done with shooting the Caracallan, but there's another movie lined up. That'll be done in Hollywood, though, so not that bad."
I perked up at that. "I thought you guys didn't go to America?" With the whole evil, deranged Alpha having a strong desire to finally get rid of my family.
She shrugged. "Mostly, no. Hollywood is different. We've been to New York, too, but only for a few days at a time."
My phone buzzed.
From: Dante (8:21 P.M.)
Florence. Please give me something to work with.
I held back a sigh. I didn't want anything, and I certainly didn't want to celebrate Christmas with them. That's not what I came back to do, and it certainly was not within my comfort zone, or any of the other zones in between comfort and the absolutely not zone. I came back here to come back, that was it. It just so happened that Dante managed to convince me to do it the week of Christmas.
To: Dante (8:23 P.M.)
Please. I don't want anything. At all. Please don't push me on this.
His text bubble immediately popped up, lasted for a couple seconds, and then disappeared again.
"Are you texting Dante?" Maggie asked, glancing over at me.
"Yeah." I rubbed my arms, the attention returning to me making me uncomfortable.
"How are you guys? I know everything's still new, but I wanna know."
My mom nodded, setting her glass down on the coffee table with a clink! "And you know he's being interrogated by everyone else right now about your relationship, too."
I shrunk up a little more, squeezing into the corner of the couch more. "I mean—" I let out a breath, and the corners of my lips lifted for a fraction of a second. "It's just... new."
New enough that I did not understand any of it myself.
"Okay, but what else? I'm sure it's a little fun sometimes."
I blinked, mulling it over. They obviously wanted information, but what did I have to give them? We weren't sexual in the slightest, which I'm pretty sure is the majority of girl talk about men, and we weren't public. I tried to keep us pretty separate, and we had only been sleeping in the same bed for two nights. Two. Both times my pillow wall was rejected and destroyed, but once again, nothing sexual.
"It's a lot." I finally answered, letting out a sigh. "Maybe it'd be exciting if circumstances were different," different meaning completely, absolutely nothing like my current situation, "but it's overwhelming."
Everything else was overwhelming though, too, so even without Dante I don't think I'd have a second to breathe.
"Is Dante overwhelming, or just everything having to do with being mated?" Lucy's voice was much quieter than before, as I once again brought down the positivity of the room. My one true talent, it seemed.
"Being mated. I just..." My voice trailed off, as so many thoughts bounced around my head. Do I tell them I didn't think I'd make it out of there? That I never even thought I'd live to be mated? Even more daunting, could I tell them? I had trouble telling Dante so much, but I generally pushed through. He was so comforting, though, and he didn't have preconceived notions of me like my family did.
I took in a deep breath, hoping some courage came with it, before I finally answered, "Everything happened so fast, and then I was mates with the Prince, next in line for the throne, and it's still a mess. I don't know."
My mom's face sank, into a sad sort of contemplative look. "I'm sure Dante understands that, though. He seems to be extremely caring for you."
A sudden slash to my heart, and then Batilda's words bounced around my head. Do you think he cares about you?
"I, uh, don't know if I'd exactly say that—" I stuttered out, my heart rate jumping up and accelerating far beyond anything comfortable. Please, just don't make a scene in front of everyone, I begged myself. I needed to calm down.
It had only been maybe three days since Batilda paid that horrible visit, but somehow I had let myself lose sight of everything. I had been relying on my mate this entire time, apparently letting him care for me, when I need rejection. Plain and simple. Batilda couldn't hurt him using me, her favorite pawn, if we were rejected. He wouldn't need to keep her alive if I was out of his life.
Do make sure to get the prince to fall in love with you. That will help me immensely.
Oh, Goddess. I knew Dante was not in love with me, because it had been a month and I really only had my voice for the last two weeks, and I had only really started actually talking to him for a short while. This wasn't me being ignorant of his feelings or not understanding love—which I don't, obviously—but I just knew he didn't. But him caring about me, and my mom being able to recognize it? Me, being unable to deny him caring about me? This was a dangerous game, one that, without rejection, would lead to something so much more intense and something I couldn't deal with. I was not capable of any sort of relationship. Being captured for eleven years leads to savagery, loss of humanity. I had those, with all my dark bad feelings inside.
If I let things continue as they have been, I can't say he won't inevitably fall to this stupid, heinous bond. And I didn't think this was me thinking higher of myself than I deserve—I did enough of the degrading to know when I'm thinking too highly of myself. I also knew this bond was already starting to sink in, making rejection just a little bit harder to think about.
Everything was such a mess.
Now, I had two choices. I could either make it more of a mess and give in to the increasing panic inside of me that arose from my mom saying something so simple, or I could suck it up, calm down, and not think of Batilda or Dante or anything not superficial so that I wouldn't become a complete wreck in front of all these people.
Just calm down. Breathe.
I could do this. I couldn't freak out.
I let out a shaky breath. "Sorry, I uh, just lost my train of thought." A solid lie. What had we been talking about again? I mentally flipped through the past two minutes.
"Oh, um, yea." Caring. "I think Dante kind of has to be that way, though. It's the bond. And he's Prince. Has to care for all his subjects, and everything."
The three women shared a subtle look, the air in the room still tense from my mini freak out. Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot—
"I mean, I don't know much about you two, so maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think he's only acting out of the bond. The bond really only fuels romance and sex and stuff. And not even romance, more lust." Lucy replied, leaning forward to grab her soda.
Maggie nodded, sending me a knowing look. "As a human, I don't get the bond as strong as you guys do, so all those other feelings have to happen on their own."
Goddess I don't want to hear this, I internally groaned, my eyes glancing to the clock in the kitchen, visible from my seat. 8:35.
This night was never going to end.
"I don't really want to talk about Dante anymore right now." I croaked out, rubbing my arms again. I hope I didn't end that too awkwardly.
"That's fine, sweetie. Don't feel bad." My mom said, offering me a small smile. "Besides, I think it's time for dessert."
Lucy's eyes lit up. "Oh, I am so ready for these brownies."
Venice sat up straighter at the mention of brownies, too. "Me too." She grinned, hopping off of the couch to go in the kitchen with my mom.
* * *
Five hours later, the front door opened with a loud creak. One pair of footsteps came in quietly, but slowly.
Venice had long since been put to bed, and she asked me to join Maggie in doing so, which put me on the spot and once again rose my level of discomfort, before Maggie swooped in to change the topic.
She seemed far more understanding than I would have guessed, almost as good as Dante. It just surprised me, but at the same time Sapphire was a little like that, too. The few times I had seen her, she always seemed to know which eggshells to walk on.
Lucy had gone to bed about three hours ago, looking exhausted and still enormous. Not that that would change, although she was past her due date.
Maggie had called it a night not long after, and my mom had gone upstairs about an hour ago, leaving me alone in the living room with the fire on, crackling and popping to drown out my thoughts. Goddess, I was exhausted, and my eyes had been falling closed for awhile now, but at the sound of the person in the foyer, I managed to keep them open.
I heard the footsteps come around the corner, before Dante stood in the entry, a smile on his beautiful face. "Hey, beautiful."
I raised a brow, leaning my head up on my hand on the arm of the couch. Ignore that. My mind fought to focus on his grin. "What are you smiling about?"
"You."
That stupid, silly word sent a chill down my spine.
He came over, the fire casting more of a golden glow on him as he grew nearer. "You're tired."
He held out a hand, and thoughtlessly, I took it, allowing him to pull me up. And then suddenly, his hands were cupping my face, and he was kissing me. Very passionately.
I let out a surprised sound, my eyes fluttering shut, stupid, stupid! What about nipping this in the bud? Rejection? Focus!
My inner voice faded away when Dante tilted his head more and pressed his lips harder against mine, moving them, and sneaking that dangerous tongue into my mouth. His usual minty taste now burned with the fiery influence of liquor, and suddenly liquor was delicious. Mmhm. I'm officially allowing myself to drink again.
After a few more wonderful moments, he broke away, leaving inches between us.
I blinked, the mate bond mental haze clearing. "What was that for?" I asked, my voice low. That kiss was so warm, soft, passionate, intimate. Was he really that drunk that he felt the need to kiss me randomly?
A tiny, cynical voice in the back of my mind echoed this though. Did he only kiss me so boldly because he's drunk?
I didn't know how to feel about that. Nor did I know which answer I wanted.
"Lots of things." He answered vaguely.
Shaking it off, I stepped back. No more about the kiss. "Where's everyone else?"
"Nolan is trying to corral Isaac and Harrison, I think. They wanted to run around the yard. Max is out."
My eyes widened. "How much did you all drink?"
"Max drank as much as I did. Isaac and Harrison were a little more reasonable in their decisions. Nolan and your father didn't drink. Hayden had human liquor, I think."
"Why aren't you passed out, then, too?"
He gave me a cheeky grin. "Okay, so it's a secret. You really can't tell anyone. I'll be upset."
I blinked, waiting for more. That grin widened, and he leaned in closer.
His voice was barely a whisper. "I'm a Prince. I can handle more."
Maybe it was the fire, or the liquor, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He was at least a little tipsy.
I shook my head, refusing to let a smile grace my face at his amusing mood.
"I think I knew that already."
He gave me a mock gasp. "No!"
I couldn't help the roll of my eyes and the smack I gave to his chest. "Go away."
"Never." His single word held an underlying, strong vow, and it took a lot of willpower to keep myself from thinking about it. Tired. Focus on getting to sleep. Dante's here now, so I can actually do that.
A muffled yell came from outside, and I turned around, walking to the window on the right side of the fireplace. The drapes were pulled, which had been my doing when my mom went upstairs. I didn't like looking at the scenery here. Especially not that heinous forest in the backyard.
I pulled back the drapes to find Harrison and Isaac running around the yard, using their werewolf speeds to evade Nolan, who was trying to pin them down, it seemed. Isaac had ripped his shirt off, and was now waving it around like a Matador. Harrison was just running laps around the car in the driveway, and I noticed a body halfway up the walkway to the door. Oh, Goddess. Max was passed out on the cement walkway.
Nolan finally managed to grab Harrison, tackling him into the snow. Harrison let out a loud groan, slamming his face into the cold fluff.
Nolan yanked him back up, walked over to the door, and thrust Harrison inside, letting the screen door close noisily. I jumped when it slammed back in.
"Stupid fucking nerd." Harrison grumbled, stomping over through the entry, until he was in the kitchen.
While reaching to get a glass from the cabinet, he stopped, and then turned around. His brown eyes widened. "Woah! What's up, Prince Dante?"
"Hey." Dante answered, as Harrison came over to shake his hand.
"Man, what is the Prince doing in my house? Shit's crazy." His words slurred a little bit, and he held his hand out, but then jabbed it into Dante's stomach. "Why are you moving so much?"
Dante lifted those eyes to me, raised eyebrows showing his amusement. I shook my head turning back to look out the window. Isaac now had his pants off and was whipping the fabric at Nolan, so fast that Nolan couldn't grab it. He groaned, and then finally sprinted at Isaac, but Isaac had anticipated this, and being the athlete he was, he narrowly avoided Nolan's move and then zigzagged through the yard, wearing only his boxers.
Oh, Goddess. This was the type of family moments I remembered, none of the sophisticated, mature behavior I had seen so far. Warmth filled my chest.
Another car pulled into the driveway. The hum of the garage opening filled the house, and then my Dad walked out, Hayden following after him, only a little bit of stumble in his walk.
He said something to the two in the yard, shaking his head as he did so, before walking up to the door. Nolan gave Isaac a look, pointing to the door, and finally, Isaac went inside after my dad. Nolan followed, stopping at Max and managing to sit him up, wrap his arm around his shoulders, and lug him inside.
The door closed at a much more reasonable volume this time, and with everyone inside, I turned away from the window.
Harrison turned his gaze to me. "Hey, there's a girl here too!" He stood up to full height, blinking, before he squinted his eyes.
I felt my nervousness spike. Was he going to not recognize me like most of the others had? I really didn't want to redo any of those horrible greetings I had already put behind me. They were far from pleasant.
His face fell. "Oh, it's you. Not a stranger, like the Prince."
"You've had a couple of days to get to know me. I don't know if I'm a stranger." Dante interjected, but Harrison didn't seem to hear him. He frowned, sadness taking over his features.
Harrison moved toward me, hesitant steps. "I'm sorry, Flo. I'm so sorry."
Before I knew it, he had wrapped me in a hug, his face buried in my shoulder.
"I'm so sorry we let you down." He said softly, tightening his embrace.
My arms were stiffly held up, and my body was completely tense. What do I do? Wetness started to soak into my shirt, and my eyes widened. Harrison was crying and hugging me. Hell, what do I do?
My wide, I'm sure bewildered eyes met Dante's, to find him equally surprised, raised eyebrows.
For once, eleven years of being mute came in handy.
'What do I do?' I mouthed to him, still frozen.
I didn't think he understood me at first, because he raised both of his hands so they were outstretched in front of him. But then he exaggeratedly brought the hands in, as if he were hugging someone, and then mock-patted their back.
I shook my head at him, my eyes bulging out of my head. I do not hug, I don't even hug Dante! Right?
I wracked my brain for the last—or any—time that I hugged him. Embracing while kissing doesn't count, right? Right. Besides, Dante and I were not going to be doing any more of that, after my mental decision earlier. His surprise kiss was not my fault. I kind of snuggled up against him at night, but that was because I needed to figure out how to get comfortable on his platinum body, and I needed him there because I'm pretty sure it fought against Batilda reappearing, and I'd give up my dignity for whatever shred of sanity I could keep.
Dante gave me a pointed look, interrupting my mental train of thought. He did the hugging gesture again, and the look in his eyes made me give up.
My brother was upset, very drunk, and maybe still crying? My arms slowly wrapped around him, and I would've stopped there, but Dante gave me an even more pointed look. Reluctantly, I gave his back a pat.
"H-how did you let me down?" I whispered, remembering he had spoken.
"We never found you. Never." He whispered, pulling back.
I let my arms drop, noticing out of the very corners of my eyes that Dante was sliding out of the room as discreetly as possible.
I gulped at the heavy topic. "I, uh. You're tired. And drunk." Suddenly, the fire wasn't warm enough, and the room was frigid. A chill went down my spine.
"You must resent us for it." He shook his head, and I noticed the skin under his eyes was damp. Oh, Goddess. I didn't know what to say.
I shook my head, the exhaustion in me leaving no room to hide my honestly. "I don't resent anyone. Really. I'm not mad at any of you."
"We failed."
"No." My heart ached for him. I knew this loss well, but whereas they had only lost one, I had lost everyone. All seven of them. My hand reached out to grab his bicep. "She's so powerful, Harrison. I don't think anyone could have found me. Not unless she wanted them to."
"We should have protected you better."
My heart squeezed at his words. "I went out there myself." I paused. "I don't think there's anything you could've done to help."
"You don't know that. We could've—"
Could've struck something inside of me, something painful and gut-wrenching. For eleven years—and maybe more, since it really hadn't stopped—all I thought about was the could've's. I could've not gone outside that day. I could've shifted maybe a couple days later. I could've not tripped on that stupid branch.
I could've not lost eleven years of my life.
That word felt personal. Familiar. I felt a certain ownership to it. Yes, Harrison had lost a sister, so had the other four boys in this house. My parents had lost a child. But I had lost so much more. It was almost unfair of him to use it, in the most cynical, dark way that I had become accustomed to. I didn't like him thinking of the could've's.
So I cut him off. "No. I don't want to hear that. I'm sorry." I sighed. "You guys don't have anything to be sorry for."
He shook his head. "You're so sad."
I shrugged. My voice cracked, barely audible. "I'm here, though."
"But you don't want to be." He breathed out the words.
I couldn't find a response to that. The truth would be a nod, but somehow, my truth had ran out. Or maybe it hadn't, it just came in the form of a lack of dispute.
My heart grew heavy the longer the silence grew on, and my brain didn't stop analyzing everything. I'm here, though. Had I meant here as in back in this house, or here as in alive? Had he meant I didn't want to be back in this house, or that he thought I didn't want to live?
Dante had asked the same thing. And even then, a month ago, I didn't have an answer. I didn't know. I wasn't trying to kill myself, but there was too much pain to ever feel happy. Did I want to be alive?
My eyes pricked with hot tears, and I didn't want to think about that anymore. Not when it brought a sharp pain to my chest that I couldn't handle.
"I'm making you cry." He whispered, before once again wrapping me in a hug. This time, I accepted it immediately, pressing my face into his arm and pulling him against me as well.
Things had been going better, right? Dante and I were closer, which helped, and he had brought me back home. I should be happy, right?
"Ah!" I whimpered when his arms pressed against my lower back, right on the sensitive skin surrounding my wounds. The goddess damned wounds that wouldn't heal.
Harrison pulled away, immediately, looking alarmed. "What did I do?"
I let out a breath, holding a hand to my back. "Nothing. It's okay." Just like earlier with Dante, that stupid wound caused me problems.
"You're injured?"
I shook my head, but Harrison wasted no time immediately pulling me and turning me around.
"Harrison, seriously—"
"Hey, you might want to listen to—" Dante was back, and stepping toward us.
Unfortunately, Harrison had already managed to lift up the back of my shirt. "The hell is this? These are bad."
I wrenched my body away from him, smoothing down my shirt. "It's not that big a deal."
"Those look horrible, Florence. What are they?"
"I'm tired." I turned to leave, only to find Nolan, my Dad, and Hayden peeking in. The wide eyes they all shared told me they had seen my wounds. Shoot.
"What happened? Who did that?" Harrison asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about—"
My dad seemed to be seething. "Who gave you those fucking wounds—"
"Stop." I narrowed my eyes at all of them.
"Are those from a gun? They look like bullet holes." He tried again.
"Why aren't you healing? How recent were those?" It was Nolan now.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I challenged, moving to step around Harrison. He grabbed my arm, moving to probably show off my wounds some more.
"Harrison, let go."
"Did you do this?" He asked Dante. My eyes widened, and I violently shook his hand off of me.
"Are you kidding me?" My voice reached a deadly lowness I hadn't ever heard it make. "You just asked that?"
His shoulders deflated. "Neither of you are answering. He was quick to try and stop..." He shook his head. "Obviously, it wasn't Dante. I'm sorry."
"I don't care if you just now figured that out. You really asked him that? If my own mate would shoot me?" My mind completely glazed over the blatant claiming of Dante as my mate. My blood was pumping hot, and I wasn't tired anymore, but I was certainly going to get out of this situation.
"Florence, I'm sorry. I know Dante wouldn't—"
"Then why ask? Why even think it? I don't care if all of you are drunk. You don't get to grab me and interrogate me and question such a horrible thing of my mate—" My head shook.
"Florence, it's alright. Nobody likes seeing you injured." Dante tried to calm me down.
But it wasn't alright. Dante was so kind and had never given me reason to fear my safety, ever. He had only ever protected and tried to care for me, too much so. And once again, Batilda rang in my ears.
Do you think he cares about you?
Get out of my head! Goddess, I could scream. Nothing was okay. It's like I had escaped Batilda yesterday. Nothing had changed. Nothing.
"How about we all just go to bed and revisit this to—actually, maybe not so soon." He walked slowly over to me, seemingly testing my reaction, before he grabbed my hand.
I was still silently fuming, Harrison's single question being the catalyst. I felt ready to explode any instant, until Dante touched me, and simmered my boiling rage. Why does the mate bond get to do that? It's cruel.
"Shit. I'm sorry. It came out."
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." I mumbled, letting Dante pull me towards the hallway. The other men standing around backed up, allowing me to pass by silently.
When Dante had closed the door behind us, leaving just the two of us in the black confines of my room, I immediately heard angry whispering from down the hall.
"Can I put fresh bandages on your back?" Dante asked, as I was walking toward the luggage.
"Okay." I replied. Just change and get to bed. Nothing more. No more thinking.
I did pretty well at the whole no thinking thing, changing into a simple shirt and shorts and sitting on the bed when Dante returned.
"You can lay on your front, if you want. I'll try and be quick."
I silently obeyed, pulling my shirt up as I laid down.
I felt his warm hands apply the cold salve first, being careful with the pressure he applied around my wound. He left it on for a moment, letting it sit, before he undid some bandaids and placed them down, smoothing out the adhesive against my skin. His callous fingers grazed across my skin accidentally, causing a ripple of warm bliss to explode in their wake.
He slid my shirt back down, and I felt his weight leave the bed as he went to return the first-aid supplies.
I rolled over and sat up, staring blankly at the dark curtains. The voices of my relatives were still audible from outside, quieter, but still heated. Dante snuck back into the room a minute later. He went to the bags, picking out his clothes, and not fighting to just sleep in his boxers tonight like he had for the past two.
He made it all the way to the bathroom, closing it behind him, and having maybe thirty seconds to change before I lost it.
Today had been horrible. On every level. So, so bad. My heart ached so deeply. It felt like I was reaching into my own chest and just scratching until things were raw.
A sob escaped me, before the tears started flowing, and I couldn't hold anything in. Today had been so exponentially bad.
The bathroom door opened immediately, and Dante was pulling me into his chest.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered, seeming to understand. He didn't say 'it's okay', or shush me, or ask what was wrong like what usually happened when people cried. He knew it wasn't okay, and he seemed to understand what was wrong. Which was everything, so maybe that wasn't a huge accomplishment.
"He didn't mean it. I know he was just angry at seeing you injured."
I shook my head, still sobbing quietly into his chest. It was different when he was shirtless, colder yet warmer.
Dante was so comforting, lovely, kind, and yet I couldn't keep coming to him when I was hurting. He couldn't be a permanent installment in my life. My body physically yearned just to have him to comfort me always, to let him give me love and to love him eventually, I couldn't. The one comfort I had, I couldn't keep.
I let out another sob. Sadness and pain were all I seemed to know, and while anger had hit me hard today, it always seemed to return to the hurt. Would it ever dull?
No. If it didn't dull after eleven years, it wouldn't ever. I would always hurt, and I had to fix that all by myself.
After another ten minutes of letting Dante help, I finally calmed down enough that he thought it okay to climb into bed with me. I still sat up, and he tried to pull me to lay with him, but I shook my head. I couldn't sleep, anyway. Might as well be more mobile.
Another long period of silence went by, in which I thought Dante had fallen asleep. Instead, he finally broke the quietness, his voice deep with exhaustion.
"You should sleep, Florence."
I shook my head silently. I couldn't. Not when I was plagued with so much.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?"
I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my head on them. "I'm okay. You're tired."
He huffed. "Don't turn this around on me. I can handle minimal sleep. You don't seem to like that."
"You never sleep."
"I've slept more on average the past two days than I have in years."
I turned my head to look at him, finding those green-blues staring intensely up at me.
"I know you're more comfortable talking to me than anyone else. Let me help."
I stared into his eyes for a couple moments longer, their depths endless and intense. My mind bounced to all the horrible parts of the day. The mini panic attack—I'm pretty sure it was a panic attack—having to decline Venice because I was weak and foolish and unable to walk outside for five minutes. The nervousness of being alone with my family and without Dante. My brother crying onto me, and then grabbing me and accusing Dante of shooting me. Exploding at my family.
Harrison saying I didn't want to be here. Which here did he mean, and which here did I agree with?
I couldn't stop myself. "Do you remember when you asked me if I didn't want to be here, as in with you, or here, as in alive?" I gulped, my eyes straying back to the black that surrounded us in the dark room.
His hand ran up my back, careful not to run over my wound.
"I remember." His voice was as quiet as mine, showing he didn't like that memory either.
"I didn't know which one I meant then, and I upset you, and I..." I gulped. "I was scared. I don't think I want to be dead, right? I fought so hard to escape..." My voice trailed off.
"Why are you remembering that?" He asked quietly, switching to rubbing his hard knuckles over my skin.
"Harrison had said I didn't want to be here, too. And I didn't correct him. But I don't know if he meant this house or alive." I rested my head on my knees again. "I don't know what I meant, either."
Dante was silent for a moment, and in the silence I felt my heart constrict. I was hurting him, I could practically feel it.
"I don't think it would be wrong to say you don't want to be in this house, especially after today." He took another pause, but kept stroking my skin, seeming to find his own solace from it. "But I don't know if I'd be stunned to hear that you meant both. And that breaks my fucking heart, Florence."
Another pang to my chest. I turned my head again, to find his eyes so dark, emotion swirling with the dark sea blue that happened whenever his wolf was out or he was angry. Or maybe his eyes darkened whenever he was feeling such an intense emotion that his wolf started to peek out.
"I make you miserable." I shook my head. "Why do you continue to keep me around when I make you so sad?"
"I'm sad for you. I'm hurting for you." He took a deep breath. "Sometimes you seem to be better. I think I'm chasing after that. You know yesterday, when you laughed, was the first positive thing I've seen from you I've seen since the ball? Or tonight, when you stood up for yourself and I. It didn't even matter than you stood up for me, because I didn't need it. But you were strong. You're incredible."
I turned my head away from him, doing my best to not let the words affect me like they desperately ached to. "I'll never be the mate you deserve."
"Bullshit. I don't like hearing you talk like that." He took a breath, collecting his thoughts. "Maybe now you're still unprepared to be Queen. I never expected my mate to be ready from the get go. I've had twenty-one years to figure out how to be King and I'm still figuring it out. But a month ago you were even more unprepared. You're an investment, kind of. A little while of helping you realize why we were mated, and then you won't have a single doubt. Then it's smooth sailing."
Hearing Dante say he didn't think I was ready to be Queen was bittersweet. On the one hand, I've been fighting him on this very fact since the day I got my voice back, but on the other hand, it was a little painful to hear he didn't think I was ready for that.
I wasn't, but hearing that from your mate? Not the greatest feeling.
"I don't think you've taken well to my explanation. Not being ready for the highest role in the kingdom after eleven years of painful trauma doesn't mean you aren't meant to be my mate, Florence. I don't think anyone else has your strength."
I didn't want to think about his words. Painfully honest, yes, a little, but so much more flattering. Caring. I didn't want to acknowledge the flip my heart did.
He moved his hand to run down my forearm, and I remained silent. Dante squeezed my wrist.
"Have I upset you?"
"No. No. I just disagree."
"Then don't. You'd be happier."
The ghost of a smile landed on my face after he said that, before it disappeared. Tiredness was once again seeping in, but I knew I didn't want to wake up tomorrow and deal with family Christmas.
I laid down, being immediately scooped up and laid against his warm chest. Holding in an eye roll at his automatic comforting gesture, I spoke again.
"Being here has been really hard. But we came back so I could be with my family again, and try to heal. Right?"
He took a moment before responding, and his hand ran down the curve of my spine. It was outside of fabric, and not even touching sexually, but it felt so sensuous, and my body heated up at the intimacy.
"Yes."
"We didn't come back for Christmas."
Another pause. "No, not exactly."
"This has already been so hard. You know that. But if I have to celebrate such a family-oriented holiday, one that used to be so dear to me, I know I'm going to be in pain." And I'd definitely freak out and ruin the whole thing.
He slowed his fingers, grazing each vertebrae individually. "Okay. Where are you going with this?"
I took in a deep breath, tilting my head to gaze up at him. "I don't want to be here tomorrow. Just tomorrow. We can be here the day after, and the day after that." I didn't add another day in there, because that was another day I was dreading. I used to love having my birthday so close to christmas, but now it was just another anxiety-increasing thought. I didn't want to turn nineteen, and I certainly didn't want to celebrate it in any way.
"You want to leave? And go where? I don't think your family will take well to you just disappearing again—"
"I don't care where we go. We can catch up on all the Prince duties, if you want. Seriously. I just need to get out for the day. They won't be pleased, but they'd understand."
His hand finally froze on my back, as he thought it over.
"We'd have to leave pretty early if you wanted to avoid them catching us leave."
"I'm fine with leaving right now."
He shook his head. "Alright. I'll take us somewhere." He yawned. "But sleep now, because we probably only have maybe two hours. And you have to write them a note before we go."
I groaned at the last addition, but snuggled my head more into his chest. A heavy weight lifted off my chest at the knowledge that I was not going to be here tomorrow. Thank the Goddess for Dante.