The Mate Mistake(The Woolven Secret 3)(45)

Her cheeks were streaked with flaking trails of blood tears where they'd dried.

"You're a dumbass," she whispered.

Instead of being insulted, an unwitting grin split his face. (And just like with the wolfsbane liquor, it definitely felt as if it had actually split his face.) "I'm your dumbass."

"Not if you get yourself killed. Like a dumbass." She sniffed.

"I'm fine. You're fine. Daddy is fine, too, isn't he?" That would be just his fucking luck—he makes the grand gesture and it doesn't mean shit because he died anyway.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Don't ever let him hear you call him Daddy. I've just gotten him to agree not to wear your entrails like a lei."

"You know, if you could do that thing you did in Vegas, that would be great."

She studied him for a quiet moment before reaching out and cupping his face with her hands.

They were so cool and soft. It was like resting his head back in a chilled, gentle stream. Her touch carried away all the pain of the physical world and left him drifting and content.

He sighed. "That's what I need."

"What you need is a brain transplant. What's wrong with you? You could've been killed," she hissed.

"But I wasn't."

"You could've been."

"But I wasn't," he said again with a grin.

"You're infuriating."

"I know." He cupped his hands over hers. "Just keep touching me, even though I'm sure I don't deserve it."

"Gods, Parker. I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to you because of me. I don't think I could live with it."

His eyes opened and he met her gaze squarely. "Yes, you could. And I demand that you would. You're so strong, Belle. Stronger than you know. The world still has beautiful things to show you and I demand you see them."

She sniffed. "You're awfully demanding for a wolf on his deathbed."

He closed his eyes again. "That's really the best time to be demanding, don't you think? You're more inclined to give me my way."

"I'm always inclined to give your way. I can't seem to tell you no, even when I know better."

"So you'd miss me, if I'd died?" he teased.

"We're not going to joke about this. My father could've killed you. Those hunters could've killed you."

"And, to reiterate my earlier point, they didn't."

"I'm going to kill you if you don't take this seriously."

He opened his eyes again. "Listen, you're harshing my vibe, here."

Her eyes narrowed.

He grinned again. Everything she did brought him utter joy. And for some reason, it was most especially when she was exasperated with him. "Look, I get it. I do. I'm laying here feeling like shit warmed over. You know, the kind with corn."

"I didn't need that visual."

"Hey, you said to take it seriously and—"

"Comparing your physical state to a certain type of—"

"Yes, it actually is very serious. I take that so seriously." He nodded. "In all seriousness, I do understand the gravity of the situation."

"Really? So why did you throw yourself between my father and death?"

"Because he's your father, Belle, and you still need him. You need him more than you need me. It was a pretty simple equation."

"It continues to amaze me how easily you speak of such things."

"Not speaking of them doesn't make them any less true." He squeezed her wrist softly with affection. "Does it? Have you spoken with him?"

"I have. He told me you invited him here."

"I did, but there were caveats."

"We worked it out on the drive back. It's a tentative peace, but it is peace. He's willing to let me do things my way, but I have to do some things, too."

The look on her face gutted him. He knew what she was going to say before she spoke. But he decided to let her tell it in her own way. In her own time. "Be with me in this moment, Belle."

"I am." Her words were a whisper that sounded so broken. So sorrowful.

"I know that even though you're technically older than me, you still have a lot of growing to do. You have to follow that path to who you are."

"What are you saying?"

"That I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Ride or die, baby."

"Not if you get yourself killed."

"Get myself killed? Sounds like victim blaming."

"Totally. If you died, I'll blame you forever."

"For dying?"

"For opening my heart. For forcing it to grow and reach for the light. And then for shoving it back down in the dark. I would totally blame you."

"Ah, good to know you love me."

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to." He pulled her down. "Come here."