Lover Unveiled (Black Dagger Brotherhood 19)

The two of them had spent most of the night setting up all the furniture in her bedroom. They’d been a good team, following the directions, using tools, figuring out where everything needed to be arranged for best effect. The fact that Elyn had nothing to put in the drawers of the bureau or hang in the closet hadn’t been lost on him.

“You know what we could do sometime?” he said as they ducked under the top rail of the fence in the side yard. “There’s a place to go shopping. A mall? It’s like a bunch of shops that are under the same roof. People say they’re dying out, but the Caldwell one is still going strong.”

One thing he’d learned about Elyn was that she wasn’t familiar with so many things he took for granted. Apparently, she hadn’t called him because she wasn’t sure how to work a phone. He’d thought it was a joking excuse, but as she’d stared into his eyes, he realized she was dead serious. And then, when they’d taken a break at midnight for a snack, she’d had no idea how to use a microwave and the juicer had scared her as it buzzed. Oh, and the TV had captivated her.

To the point where she’d gone around and looked behind the flat screen, as if she couldn’t figure out where the images were coming from.

When she’d asked him to take a breather from the house just now, he’d totally gotten it—

Abruptly, Elyn stopped and looked up. The moon was bright overhead, stripes of clouds drifting over its face.

“When I got out of the lab,” he heard himself say, “everything was too much. Too loud. Too many. My adoptive parents helped a lot and I did get used to it. But for a good month or two, I had to decompress every once in a while. I’d go lie down in my bedroom with the lights down low and some classical music playing. It helped.”

As she focused on the night sky, he studied her profile, and the sadness on her face was something he knew all about. Mourning looked the same on everyone’s features, no matter whether they were old or young, male or female.

“Who did you lose,” he said in a low voice.

“I cannot . . .”

Her words drifted, and he was not surprised that she didn’t finish the thought. Or, more likely, couldn’t.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” he vowed. “I promise.”

The assurance seemed like the only thing he could do to help her with wherever her mind was at.

With a shake of the head, she started walking again, her eyes down, her hands tucked into the pale gray parka she’d been given at Safe Place. She’d been provided with the whole outfit she had on, too, the jeans, turtleneck, and cozy sweater fitting for the weather. And out of that draping black robe thingy she’d been wearing, she was a lot smaller than she’d seemed—and that just made him feel worse about whatever had been done to her.

She needed protection.

As she lead the way across the meadow, he wasn’t surprised that she took them into the forest, back to the meteor impact. And when they emerged from the trees into the clearing, she didn’t stop until she was right at the edge of the pit—and she was quiet and still for so long, he had to walk around because one of his legs started cramping.

“I had to leave him,” she said abruptly. “I had no choice.”

Nate’s gut clenched . . . and yet he wasn’t surprised. Abusive males were the reason Safe Place and Luchas House existed. And thank God she’d gotten out alive.

“You have to save yourself.” With his eyes, he traced her beautiful features and the way the moonlight turned her white hair into spun silver. “Thank God you’re safe.”

As she fell silent once again, he knew she was reliving her nightmare and he wanted to hug her.

“I had to save both of us.” She brushed a hand over her face. “He was not going to leave me, and it was too dangerous for him to be around me. I am dangerous.”

Nate recoiled. “What?” He reached out and took her arm. “You are not. Don’t let anyone make you think that.”

After a moment, she lifted her eyes to his. “You do not know me, Nate.”

The grave expression on her face gave him a moment of pause. But then he shook that off.

“I absolutely know you. And whatever your abuser told you is a lie. You need to never see him again—”

“Abuser?” Elyn frowned and then shook her head. “Oh, no. He was good to me. He was too good to me. He was going to lose his life for me, his calling for me. I had to separate us. He deserved so much better than the vow he undertook as my father died, and he was such a male of worth, that regardless of circumstance, he was never going to diverge our fates.”