Mate (Bride, #2)

by Ali Hazelwood

“Do you have clear memories,” I ask calmly, “of my Heat?” His eyebrow lifts. “They’ll be what I last see before I die.” “Good. Then you will remember that I asked you to bite me. Several times.” His throat works. “And you didn’t. I begged you, and you didn’t.” “Ask me now, and I’ll do it. I’ll do it right here—” “Why didn’t you then?” There is a tic in his jaw. “Because you weren’t in the position to make the choice.” “You’re right. I wasn’t. Would you say that I am in the position now?” His shoulders tense. He knows where I’m going with this. “I’m lucid. Clearheaded. I’m making a choice, which is to let you know that if you step down, it will be for nothing. I will not stay with you.” My chin trembles. I power through. “So don’t bother—” “Serena.” “—doing that, because it’s not going to—” “Serena.” He steps toward me, and I swallow back my tears. His hand travels to my cheek but drops to his side before making contact. As though he’s no longer sure he has the right to touch me. I did this, I think, nauseous. I did this to him. “I don’t know,” he says, soft, barely audible. He stops. Restarts. A lock of hair falls on his forehead, dark against tanned skin. “I don’t think I can go on without you. Above all, I don’t think I can go on knowing that you need me, and I’m not by your side.” “I’ll be fine,” I lie. “I wish…” His mouth has to work to shape more words. “I wish I could believe you, but—”