Burdened (A Burdened Novel) (12 page)

“Earlier in school, Scott got upset—maybe angry. His eyes swirled dark-blue and dark-green and that scared the shit out of me.”

“I knew you got upset about something. He wouldn’t tell me what. He let you see his eyes change colors?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “He has never done that, and has been in control of it forever. He learned how to control his at an earlier age than I.”

“Why do your eyes change color?” I haven’t forgotten about the whole ‘he could kill me’ part, but I want to give him a break from it.

“They can change because of our moods and our feelings. I’m usually good at controlling mine as well. But with you, I was trying to focus on controlling too many other things that something had to slip.” He huffs a chuckle. “And it was the most noticeable thing on me.”

“That’s why you didn’t deny it when I said something about it?”

“Why deny it? You knew what you saw. I was already making you feel bad enough, with the pain from me denying you. I didn’t want to add to it.”

“Thank you.”

“Tracey,” he pulls me closer, “knowing some of what you know, will you stay?”

“Why does Scott make you seem like such a bad guy?” I ask, before answering his question.

His head falls forward as if he is ashamed of the answer to the question. “That is something that I am ashamed of.” I wait, not responding. “I have spazzed out before, and lost control.” He speaks slow and calmly.

I’m not sure how to—or if I should—respond. He continues. “And I’ve used girls, treated them poorly,” he shrugs, “showing them lack of respect, because they meant nothing to me—unlike you.” After another long pause “But I think he was speaking more about my loss of control. But this happened years ago and hasn’t happened since. They believe that it could happen again, but I disagree. They also think that, because there is a risk that some may be after me and my cousin,
Olar.”

I cock my head to the side, looking at him. “How old are you?”

“Ninety-three years,” he says, looking away from me.

“How is that possible?”

“Physically, we age slowly.”

“Scott has always looked normal to me.”

“We have the ability to adjust our looks, which allows us to look older or younger by a few years. It works out for those of us who want to stay around the same place for a long time.”

Moments pass. I take in the information the best that I can. Am I safe, or is this me committing suicide? I can confirm for myself that I want him, but at the cost of
my life
? Maybe... “I don’t know how to respond.”

“Tracey, I need you to understand something.” He grabs my hand and all my doubt, confusion, insecurity, and fear fades—it’s no longer existent. “As long as you can do
this
to me…
that
will never happen. None of what I told you will ever happen.” He shifts. “Even if you couldn’t, I would never hurt you, nor would I let anyone else hurt you.” His index finger grazes my jawline as he turns my head to look at him.

I stare into his eyes and they swirl into those beautiful green and brown eyes that do something to me.

He stares back for a moment. “I promise—” he continues, “you will always be safe with me. And just as I can touch you and change your emotions, you can do the same to me. I’m not going to lie and say this is going to be easy, and I’m not going to say that there isn’t a risk, because there is.”

He lets go of my chin and moves us so that he can grab both of my hands with his. “But I am going to tell you that I will do everything in my power to protect you and keep you safe, even if that means protecting you from me. I have a lot of power, but my will to have you, and my desire for you to be happy and safe, is greater.”

“What happens if I choose not to stay?”

“I don’t know.” He sits back.

“Has everyone who has been confronted with this situation chosen love, even if that means it could lead to death?” I ask.

“Choosing love always leads to death, whether if it’s with a Sephlem, demon, vampire, dragon, or human. You’re either going to be happy in love and give your life to someone else, because giving up your life
is
death—you’re just replacing your life with the other person’s, like what has happened with us—or,” he continues, “you’re miserable in love and you all kill each other—he kills her, she kills him, the jealous mistress or man on the side kills the mate they’re jealous of, or they both commit suicide because they can’t have each other.” He looks away from me.

“If I choose not to stay, do you think that’s what will happen? We’ll commit suicide because we cannot stand to not be around each other?” I ask, only out of curiosity.

“If one of us dies, we both die,” he says in the calmest tone I’ve ever heard anyone speak before. “For me anyway.”

My eyes go wide. I know what I want to do, and something tells me everything is going to be fine. But then, something else screams ‘you don’t know him.’ And I don’t, but I also don’t care. I know that sounds bad, but I know what he does to me and how I feel around him. I know I can trust him, and I know I would do anything to make sure nothing bad happens to him.

He waits patiently as I work through my thoughts. It must be three in the morning by now. I’m getting tired and this conversation really didn’t change how I feel, only show me how negligent I am because it didn’t change my mind, and if he asked again, I would still say the same thing I said on the deck.

So I say it. “I want you.” I speak softly, and he turns to me. “I trust you.” He looks at me deeply. He doesn’t smile, and his expression doesn’t change. He moves towards me, quicker than usual. I write it off as his abilities, which I plan to ask about on another day.

He gets so close I have to lean back on the seat of the chaise. Hovering his upper-body over me, he smiles. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

I raise my left eyebrow. “You’re going to have to stop doing that.”

“What?” He kisses me before I can answer.

A kiss that starts off soft and thankful. One hand holds on to the right side of my waist tightly, and his grip becomes tighter as his kiss gets deeper. My legs bend on both sides of him. His other hand is pressed against the seat of the chaise next to my head, supporting his upper-body weight.

I rub my hands up his neck and through his hair. It is soft and covers my fingers. He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes swirl to the color of ocean-blue. I’d never seen this color before; it hypnotizes me.

I grasp his shirt in the back and push it up enough so I can touch his skin directly. His eyes close as he lets out a quiet breath. His body is smooth and strong as it tenses under my touch. My hands explore him for my eyes. They roll over every muscle and dip in his back. I pull his head down to kiss me again, and this kiss is more aggressive.

He moves his hand under my shirt, and it is warm and soft against my skin. He lifts my back up into an arch. I wrap my leg around his and move my hand to his shoulder, pulling him down so his body is pressed firmly against mine. My hips move upward so they are in place with his. He lets out a deep, throaty sound to my motion and I love it.

I move my hands to his sides, feeling the tightness of his skin and muscles. When he stops kissing me, I trail kisses to his neck. He has a soft, earthy scent mixed with some type of cologne that sends my senses rapid. He doesn’t taste salty, just a smooth, hairless neck that I kiss with the pallet of my tongue, making contact with his skin before my lips. His arm, helping to support his weight, starts to weaken.

He stops me by moving to kiss me softly. He’s calming me down—I can feel my mood change. I let out a relaxing breath. The kiss grows more intense. His hand moves to my thigh. My thighs—they’re my lose-control spot.

He moves from my lips and kisses along my neck to my collarbone. Soft kisses linger after his lips are gone. His lower-body firmly presses against mine and I moan out for the spasm it makes my body feel. And that’s it—everything is gone.

He pulls back, looking me over as he moves away. I’m filled with cold and confusion.

He sits on the far-end of the chaise, staring at me with those bright, ocean-blue eyes that I can’t look away from. I have nothing to say, not knowing what made him stop. I do, however, know it felt good and I am not ready for it to end.

“Okay, Tracey. I’m a really strong person,” he starts, “and I have a lot of control. It’s not time for us to start doing a lot of things yet, and we may have taken it too far tonight.” I inch towards him. “But with you touching me like that and making those noises.” He looks away from me, shaking his head.

I wasn’t expecting him to say that.
“Definitely your fault.”

“These feelings for you are like none other. It’s a little harder to control some urges. But anger and going full-demon, I have fully under-control. It’s never going to happen.” He rubs his hand over his head.
“But my desire to have you…not so much.”

I smile. “So are you saying I can’t touch you?” I ask softly, not caring what challenge he loses against himself with his control of desire for me. I think I’m tipsy from him. I’ve never felt like this before. So much want and need.

He grabs me by my shoulders, not pushing me back. “And that is something you have to control.”

“What?” I ask, my body still craving his.

“Your desire.” Closing the distance to him, he doesn’t stop me, but his hands remain on my shoulders.

“No!” I’m stern, and close enough now to sit on his lap. Keeping his eye-contact, I throw my leg over him so that I can. Once seated, I move his hands from my shoulders to my waist, over
my hips, to my thighs and squeeze his hands so they squeeze my thighs. He does, then lets go, saying, “Don’t Tracey.” Not this again. Anger blooms. I can’t understand why he doesn’t want me. He moves his hand under my shirt. My anger fades. “Tracey, listen. We can become overwhelmed by each other and give in to each other’s needs. You need to control yourself before we end up doing something we aren’t ready to do yet.”

I’m calm, though my hormones are raging out of control. “Okay,” I say, reluctantly. Knowing these feeling aren’t coming from me, I wouldn’t give in this soon.

He chuckles, quietly, as he shakes his head. “Come on, Tracey. Let me put you to bed.”

“You’re leaving?” I ask as he turns me around, lifting me in his arms.

Shaking his head, he says, “Nah, I told you that’s not happening anymore.” He lays me down on my bed. My eyes grow heavy as I watch him walk back over to the chaise.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting your cover.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” I can’t figure out what’s wrong with me—I’m antsy and calm at the same time.

He walks back over and lays the comforter beside me. “It’s okay. Like you said, you’re just a little tipsy right now. We’ll work on controlling it. Can I lay with you?”

Did he really have to ask? “Yes,” I answer softly. “Your cousin was wrong about you.”

“Yes, somewhat. Go to sleep, Tracey.” He takes off my shoes and his, then lays the comforter over me. He climbs over me, lays on top of the cover, and wraps his arms around me. It is the best thing I’ve ever felt. I turn into him and fall asleep to his scent that oddly relaxes every bone and muscle in my body.

He kisses my forehead and whispers something in a language I’d never heard but once in my dreams.

“Tracey.” I’m kissed. “Tracey.”
Kissed again. It feels nice and the voice saying my name is so enchanting. It laughs. “Tracey, wake up.”

I open my eyes and there he is, still there looking down at me. He smiles. I snuggle closer to him.

“Tracey, someone is at your window.” My eyes shoot open.

“What?”

“And if it’s a guy, the next time he throws a rock at a window, it’s going to be with his feet.” He is serious.

“Umm…o-
kay…” That sounded harsh. I don’t know who it could be. The only guy that had done that was my first—really the only guy I’ve ever been with in that nature. And the only reason he came tapping on my window around this time was for that purpose—sometimes.

“And that better not be him tapping on the window this time.”

I look at him as I get out of the bed. “Umm, no, I don’t think it is. And stop doing that!”

“Go check the window, and make a mental note to talk about that later.” I watch him sit up in the bed, his eyes swirling to that hazel-brown I had seen the first time we met. That is going to take some getting used to.

I walk over to the window, not knowing what to expect. The sky is starting to lighten. I move the curtains to look out the window.

Scott is standing near Glen, but not next to her. Now, what has happened with these two?

See what they want
.

“Whoa.” I jump, hearing his voice in my head. That is going to take some getting used to as well. I open the window, poking my head out, so they can see me.

Trying to look incredibly tired, “Yes?” My voice is low.

“Tracey, let me in,” Glen says quickly.