The Wild (The Lycans 6) - Page 34

He wrapped his arms around me slowly, gently. And when I wasn’t pulled back to the past, he gently stroked by back.

“I’ll never let ye go. I’ll always be here. No matter what.” He started speaking in Gaelic, soft words I didn’t understand but knew they were meant to ease me. “There’s no rush. No rush at all.” He kissed the top of my head, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

After a few moments, and after I gathered my self-control, I whispered, “I’m not normal.” I felt his arms tighten around me as if reflexively.

“There’s no such thing as normal, sweetheart. We are how we’re meant tae be in this world. We just have tae navigate new waters.” He kissed my temple and said something in Gaelic. “We have the rest of our lives tae find what works for us, and if all I ever get tae do is hold ye like this, I’ll count myself the luckiest male ever.”

I clutched his shirt and shook my head, although I didn’t know what I was denying.

“No rush,” he murmured. “And we’ll find our new normal. We’ll work through what we have tae, because we’re meant tae be together.”

He kept speaking in Gaelic, the words slowly morphing into what resembled a lullaby.

And despite the turmoil, the hardship, and all the obstacles that seemed to stand in our way of finding that elusive happily ever after, I knew no matter what, this was where I was meant to be.

I just didn’t know if that was how destiny saw it too.

Chapter

Fourteen

Odhran

I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since… gods, since Larkin was taken from me. And even though I now had her back, protected and safe with me, and would never let anyone hurt her again, I still couldn’t rest.

I’d made it my normal to stay in her room and watch her sleep, something that helped calm me because she was within reach. I couldn’t lose her again. I wouldn’t.

I was a strong male, powerful, an alpha. I’d won countless battles, became a warlord. I was known for my savagery and brutality on the battlefield.

But when it came to Larkin… I was weak.

I was a coward and felt like I had no control.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, feeling my scruff and knowing I needed to shave. When we’d first gotten here, I made a pallet on the floor, but when all I did was toss and turn, I brought in the leather chair from the living room.

For hours, I’d just read, intermittently watching her sleep, hyper-fixated on the steady rise and fall of her chest. Then I said fuck the reading when she had her first nightmare. I couldn’t concentrate anyway, but knowing she was reliving her trauma while she should be at peace and resting was like someone taking a spoon and digging out my heart.

I leaned forward and braced my forearms on my thighs, just watching her, thinking about the heinous shit the Assembly did to me in the short amount of time I was there. She had been in their clutches for decades, had dealt with that horror for so long.

My girl was strong, had survived, but the pain was still clutching at her.

The guilt ate at me, shame that if I’d been a stronger male and kept them away, then my female would never have been hurt.

Her words echoed in my head, whispers about how she felt she was broken, that she was ruined. It had my eyes prickling and my chest becoming uncomfortably tight.

I hung my head and ran a hand over my eyes, knowing I’d spend the rest of my life proving to her that fate had given her a worthy male.

She made a soft sound, and I glanced up, seeing her fingers twitch and her eyes moving back and forth behind her closed lids. When she settled again and made a soft sigh, I scrubbed my hands over my face. I was running on pure adrenaline, so tired yet unable to rest.

I hated this for her, hated this for us. My vengeance and turmoil had fueled me for so long that now that I had her back, all I felt was this draining energy. I wanted to be the best mate I could for her, to lavish her with the affection and love she deserved. But in my heart, I still felt like I didn’t deserve her, that I’d forever let her down.

For I’d broken the sacred trust between mates.

She had since buried herself inside my heart, had been a part of me for so long that the very idea of her not being mine made me physically ill.

I leaned back in the chair again and rested my head on the cushion, closing my eyes and feeling the heaviness of exhaustion start to weigh down on me. It was when that elusive sleep was so close—that I was jolted back to reality at the sound of her screaming.

I was up and out of the chair in seconds, cradling her small body in my arms as she gasped, waking up from her nightmare. I ran my hands over her hair, the scent of sea salt and coconut from the shampoo in the bathroom clinging to the silky raven strands.

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