Page 10 of Rehabilitated

“What is he saying right now?”

“Bite her. Mark her. Over and over again.”

“Bite me?” She looks worried.

I hold out my hands. “On the night of the full moon, shifters bite each other. Right here.” I point to the base of my neck. “We mark our mates. It’s a symbol of our commitment and bond. It’s like a wedding ring for shifters.”

“Sounds painful.”

“I’m told it’s actually quite pleasurable.”

“Huh,” she muses.

I notice her eyes growing heavy and take the plate from her. “Still hungry?”

She shakes her head.

I gather the chips and pretzels and carry everything downstairs. When I get back up to the bedroom, Ever is fast asleep, still leaning against the pillows. I smile as I move quietly around the side of the bed to adjust her, tucking the blankets around her shoulders. My heart breaks for her and everything she’s been through.

The chair scrapes lightly across the floor as I drag it closer to the bed and take a seat. I watch my mate as she sleeps, my thoughts racing with things to tell her about our world, with ways to help her shift or wake up her bear.

My bear paces inside me, a caged beast. I know I need to do something to soothe his urgency, so I grab my laptop as our mate dreams.

As the sun sinks behind the trees, I dig into her adoptive family.

4

Ever

When I wake up the next morning, it takes me a minute to remember where I am. I look at the chair in the corner of the room, expecting to see Russo, but it’s empty. I frown, forcing down the anxiety and disappointment as I roll over in bed… and come face to face with Russo. He’s fast asleep beside me. I smile with relief as I take in his sleeping form.

He’s so handsome. His full lips, strong jaw, the little bump in his nose that makes me think it might have been broken once or twice.

His words from yesterday float through my mind. He said that we’re soulmates. Fated mates. Part of me thinks he’s crazy, but a bigger part of me believes him. I mean, that would explain why I’ve been so relaxed around him, why I trust him after a lifetime of never being able to trust anyone. It also explains why I’m attracted to him when I swore off men or relationships years ago.

Things are changing now. I feel like I’m changing. I’m finally free. I can choose where to go, where to live, what to do. I have my life back. It feels strange after being locked away for so long.

What do I want to do first?

My bladder answers me.

I slip out of bed quietly, trying not to disturb Russo as I tiptoe into the bathroom and close the door behind me. I take care of business and wash my hands. When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I wince at the purple and yellow bruises marring my arms and cheek.

No more, I tell myself as I splash some cool water on my face. No one will ever hit me again.

I smile as I make that vow, but it’s wiped off a second later when I hear movement in the bedroom.

“Ever!” Russo shouts.

I turn, darting out of the bathroom in a panic.

“I’m here!” I skid to a stop in front of him, and he sags with relief. “I was just in the bathroom.”

“You should be resting,” he says gently, scooping me into his arms and carrying me back to bed.

“I’m feeling better. I can stand. I can walk.”

He shakes his head. “Rest.”