Come for Me (The Hunt, #2)

by C.J. Sweet

You saw the disbelief on his face. He doesn’t know you care. Now he may die, never knowing. My intrusive thoughts are winning. I’m biting back tears.

He’ll never know because I didn’t know. I love him.

I loved my deranged fucker of a mate.

I’ve always been alone, but I always felt extra lonely in the colder months. Fall is meant to be a time where you cuddle up next to your significant other with a good book or a movie. It’s one of the perks of being in a relationship. I never had such a luxury.

If that’s the case, the only advice I have for her is not to run from what’s meant for her. But she’s smarter and won’t make the same mistakes I have.

I didn’t know I loved him then. But I know now it was love that led me to inviting him where he’d be murdered. Either way, my love is inevitably what killed him.

Wearing his clothes is comforting, but it’s only an illusion. The yearning and aching follow suit immediately after, reminding me he’s no longer here.

“I saw you as well,” Tom starts. “You do what I used to do. You overthink.” Story of my life. I snort. “And if I’m not overthinking, I’m letting my feelings get the best of me.”

“He told me to imagine your emotions are a fuel source kept in a bottle, used to put force behind your blows. You let the emotions build and fizz to the top of the bottle. Then, when it’s time to hit your opponent, you pop off the cap and quickly close the lid. It’s okay to be emotional, just have to learn to check and uncheck when you need to.”

Sometimes, fantasy is better than reality. Why couldn’t I have learned that sooner?

What is this guy afraid of if not losing his own life?

If looks could kill. Unfortunately for him, they don’t.

We could have killed them, and they would have deserved it, but I know a quick death wouldn’t appease my broken heart.

“Are you scared of loving someone?” I ask. No response. “Or are you scared that claiming someone as your mate means they have the ability to destroy you if they leave?”

Lovers and best friends reuniting finally, our family was whole again.

Please, Goddess, if you let him pull through this, I promise I’ll never question you again.

I’ve succumbed to emotional exhaustion after all the stress, having to force myself to care about mundane questions. It’s weird how the world continues to turn for others even though yours has stopped and how minuscule every problem really is when your loved one is lying in a hospital bed.

I’m wide awake, yet I’ve never felt more exhausted. Now, instead of losing sleep over him being gone, I now lose sleep with the fear of ever losing him again.

Something snaps inside me, and a darkness infects my moral compass, flooding my bloodstream. With my immune system compromised, I take inventory. My ability to take the high road is gone. Sparing the lives of others? Gone. My perspective on what’s right and what’s necessary is forever altered.

I no longer care to be the hero. I want to be the villain.

Whatever the Moon Goddess might have prepared for me is nothing compared to the hell this world was when I thought I was alone in it without my mate.

I’ll have to beg at the pearly gates for what I’ve conjured.

This villain era of mine soaks up hatred like fuel.

“The pain is bearable. But to not hold you in my arms is an excruciating pain I’ll never be able to withstand,” he says. “Don’t fight me. Let me hold you.”

“I’ll always come for you. Never doubt that.” My heart bursts at his declaration. Utterly redefining the word devotion.

Here I am, trying to apologize for how blind I was in the past, all that time I wasted when we could’ve been together. Time, for a while, I thought was all I would ever have. Yet he could care less about the apology he so deserves or what didn’t happen then. All that matters to him is for me to say those three little words now.

I have always wanted your love and needed you in ways I can’t begin to explain. Even before I knew you existed, whether I thought you loved me, I never needed you to love me back for me to still want you. To crave you. Cherish you. Smart mouth and all, I have and will always need you, want you, and be in love with you.”

“Screw ‘til death do us part,’ even after. Even if you hate me. I love you, Alaina. I fucking love you.”

Psychological fear is a wonderful thing when done correctly.

“When did she become so dark?” I ask. “When she thought you were dead,” Sam answers.

I never wanted to please someone so badly, never thought of myself as a beta to anyone. But I’ll gladly worship her as my alpha if it means being hers.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m far from a simping bitch, but I’d gladly roll over for her in a heartbeat. If it means being hers, I’d be anything. I’m just grateful she accepts me as her king.

Ugh, this fucking guy. I was secretly hoping he died while I was gone.

What she finds to be the most annoying parts of herself, I find the most vulnerable and therefore the most in need of my acceptance. And she’ll always have it.

Not everything that is beautiful is safe. Freedom. Now that is stunning.

I’ve heard and witnessed terrible things in my life, but at the sight of her blood and her silence, my vision goes black. My mind races over the possibilities of what they may have done to her to make her bleed so much. And whether she’s alive . . . My world will have ended and the rest of the world will follow if she’s not.

Splitting up is always the mistake people seem to make. There’s strength in numbers.

Two very shallow fang indentations overlap my mark on her. Whether this was a message or a promise, either way, they’re out of their fucking depths and fucking with the wrong monster.

“I’m not mad at you. Never you, darling. But I have to know. Who did this to you?”

Instead of the council giving the powerful and unstable man what he wants, let’s piss him off instead. Because that makes sense.

Even after being beaten, silver and other drugs flooding her system, Alaina is still as fierce as they come with that mouth of hers. It’s still her strongest weapon. That’s my girl.

Our souls are entwined by the Moon Goddess Herself. I’m her devil, and she, my darling angel. I’ll find her in death, haunt her for years to come. Her soul belongs to me, and the devil always comes to collect. We’ll rule hell together.

No time would have ever been enough with her, but I’m thankful for what I did have with her. To die hers is the greatest honor.

To her, I’m enough, even when I’m not.

In fact, taking away my weakness isn’t making me stronger—it’s only made me broken.

“Please stop saying my name like that.” “Like what?” “Like you don’t entirely hate me. Like you’re actually interested in what I have to say and not just entertaining the mentally insane vampire. Like I’m not crazy. I might start being able to think what I have to say matters, that I matter.”

“Like you might care to stay long enough to get to know me. When we both know you really want to run.”

Victims recognize...

“I’ve been nothing more than tolerated my entire life. My brain has always been wired differently. I know I’m crazy.”

“Crime gone unpunished does not mean it’s unsolved. An injustice does not mean an unanswered question.”