Mate (Bride, #2)

by Ali Hazelwood

“You are my mate,” he says. With little inflection. So little, I must have misheard. I learned it back in college. Linguistics elective, junior year. The rhythmic patterns of language contribute to listening comprehension. “Excuse me?” “You and the Vampyre are close, right?” he asks, full of that calm that borders on indifference. Is he making fun of me? “She explained what a mate is?” Slowly, I nod. “What Misery is to Lowe, you are to me.” Oh. Oh? Oh. “Is this a, um…terminal diagnosis?” His lips twitch. “No cure, I’m afraid.” “I see.” I clear my throat. “Well, this relationship sure escalated quickly.” His words surprised me, but the way the corners of his eyes crease in amusement shocks me tenfold. His laugh is a deep, warm chuckle that makes my heart stumble. “You have no idea, kid.” I cross my arms. “Should you be calling me ‘kid,’ given the situation?” “I’m not married to it. What would you prefer?” “Well, there’s always my actual name. But if you insist on a nickname, I’d prefer something with a bit more…” “More?” “More teeth.” His eyebrow rises. “Root canal?” “No. Come on, you know what I mean. Something that inspires fear.” “Real estate market crash.” “Okay, maybe less fear and more…awe. Warrior-like.” His once-over is skeptical. “You’re what? Five feet?” “I’m two and a half inches over that. And for your information, the other day these stubby little legs butchered several Vampyres.” “Look at you go, killer.”