Enchanting Wilder (16 page)

“Just because you feel unworthy doesn’t mean you are.”

I sigh dejectedly, a tear falling.

“Hey.” Declan catches my face in his hands. He smiles and swipes under my wet eyes. “You shouldn’t have to work to be worthy of anything. If anyone tells you otherwise, they’re dicks.”

I snort, grateful of his lightheartedness.

Declan inches closer to me. “There is something I can give you.” His minty, warm breath cascades over my face, triggering my body to hum in eagerness. “The passion…that, I can do.”

Whoa.
‘Just drive,’
unexpectedly turned into something a whole lot more.

He slowly starts to bring his lips to mine and I’m a little taken by surprise. I mean—sure, he was inching toward me and had lustful bedroom eyes.
Oh God, his bedroom eyes are so damn beautiful
. I just didn’t think he’d actually go in for the kiss.

But as as he finally meets my lips, I literally have to talk myself out of willing my clothes to vanish.
Yes, I can do that.

Soft and inviting, I meld my mouth to his. He brings his hand to my side, kneading my skin, setting my body on fire. He slips his tongue into my mouth and I hold onto him, anchoring him to me. My hands pull at him—needing more, craving it. I love the way our bodies so effortlessly work together.

I bite his bottom lip and he groans, letting go. Becoming ravenous.

I’m not so cold any more. The woods are my new favorite place. It now holds something special, something magical…intoxicating.

Crickets chirp in the distance and I wonder if they’ll ever hold the same mundane significance they did before. They used to be irrelevant, unimportant creatures. But now? I can’t imagine a world without them. They’re the soundtrack to a kiss that brought me back to the land of the living. Everything I’ve wanted—everything I’ve needed—is being laid out in front of me by Declan. His passion overwhelms me, and for the first time in my life, my sense of self is overflowing. I no longer feel the need to second-guess my desires.

Every kiss, every stroke of his tongue with mine brings me closer to who I’m supposed to be. It feels as if I’ve been waiting my entire life to find someone to kiss me like this. So passionately—full of want and need.

Declan takes hold of me gently, placing both hands on the side of my face. He slows his pace, and pulls away, kissing my nose.

I’m panting with fervor and smile when his green eyes look into mine.

Declan lowers his voice. “That was…”

I nod, still gasping for air. “It was.”

His eyes narrow on my mouth and, without a second thought, he brings his hand to my chin, exposing my neck. He lightly sucks and kisses, emanating a noise from deep within my throat I’ve never heard myself make before. He bites. I know the second his teeth connect with my skin he’s marked me. I’m his. One-hundred percent. I’m irretrievably his.

When he pulls back to look at me, his eyes soften. “You’re going to ruin the long streak I have going.”

My bottom teeth scrap my lip and smile, a little lightheaded. “What streak?”

“The longtime bet I have with myself to not fall for someone.”

My heart stops and my cheeks flush. “Well, I’m glad.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

I look him square in the eyes so he knows I’m serious. “I think so.”

He clears his throat and leans in to kiss my forehead. “Good. We should probably head back. I think it’s time I talk to you and Candy.”

Blinking rapidly, I sober and frown. If he needs to talk to the both of us, it can’t be good. “O—okay.”

It’s silent when we saunter into the house. Gripping Declan’s hand, I lead him up the stairs to my room. It sits on the far side of the hall, away from Candy’s bedroom.

Declan closes the door behind him and looks around, paying special attention to the four-poster bed I’ve had since I was a teenager and the light pink duvet that covers it. He glances at my antique wooden desk and laptop, paired with my blue computer chair. Touching his fingers to his lips, he opens the door to my closet and skims his hand on the shirts and jeans that are hung up. I watch him with captivated attention. Never missing the way his eyes widen when he spots something he likes; in particular, a dress he found in the back that’s deep red and ridiculously short. He even grew excited when he found my favorite pair of brown combat boots.

When he exits the closet, his eyes land on my collection of books. They sit on the opposite side of my room, taking up an entire wall’s worth of space. He steps in front of the bookshelf and pulls out an old leather-bound, cracked book.

“What’s this?” he asks as he flips through the pages, his eyebrows down.

“That’s my family’s Book of Whispers.”

His eyes squint and he stops to read a page. “Book of Whispers? Like, your covens’ book of spells?”

I stand next to him, my arm brushing his. “That’s exactly what it is. But,” I stop to caress a page, feeling slightly confused, “mortals can’t see it. Are you able to read what it says?”

He closes the book and sets it back on the shelf. “I mean—I could see the words on the page. But I couldn’t read the language.”

I give him a curious look. “That’s so odd. Mortals aren’t supposed to be able to see anything on the pages.”

He shrugs. “Must be because I’m a Pursuer.”

That’s probably true. Pursuers are technically part of the supernatural realm.

“Your room is nice.” He smirks, touching the fluffy pink comforter.

I purse my lips and shove him, laughing at his carefreeness. His rough exterior in my overly girlish room is a contrast, that’s for sure.

The scruff on his face is longer today, making kissing him an entirely new experience. The guys I’ve kissed before Declan have always been clean-shaven. I never really went outside of my comfort zone before. It’s a good change.

His clothes aren’t creased like I’m used to seeing, either. Maybe he wasn’t sitting in them all day, looking over mountains of research, without any time to change before dashing out the door. And his eyes—the eyes that look at me with such intensity—they almost don’t fit in the room where I slept as a child.

Then again, on the other hand, he totally fits here. He fits here better than I do.

“When do you think Candy will be home?”

I look at my phone. “No clue. She hasn’t texted, but that’s not anything new. She’s probably with Jared.”

“As in The Ackalades, Jared? I saw them kissing earlier. I was wondering if they had a thing.”

“They do.” I shake my head. “Or did. I don’t know. They’re so back and forth, I can hardly keep up anymore.”

Declan nods and lays down, making himself comfortable, his head hitting the soft pillow with a whoosh. The fabric rustles around him and he snuggles in, putting an arm behind his head. He gestures at me with the other hand and I lean in to rest my head on his chest, wrapping my arm around his middle. He sighs contently and nestles close to me. With his guard down, I’m almost scared to move. His smooth and steady heartbeat under my ear reminds me I need to take more time to live for me, as opposed to living for my job. I need more moments like these in my life—so simple, yet coveted.

I lift my head up and set my chin on his chest, admiring the way he looks so peaceful with his eyes closed. He must feel me staring because he smiles, his grasp on my body tightening. I bring my hand up to his face and touch the light dusting of hair on his jaw.

He sighs, opening his eyes. “Tell me something no one else knows.”

My hand stills on his face. Something no one else knows? “I hate the color black.”

His eyes squint. “That wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but I’ll humor you. Why don’t you like the color black?”

I move my hand away from his face and tuck it underneath my body. “Where there’s light there’s dark, right?”

“Generally, yes.”

“As a child, we were told Mara were the bad—always. They were the ones we had to worry about. Sure, there are other monsters in the world, but Mara—they are the ones looking to destroy Strix specifically. While I’ve never actually seen a Mara, I’ve had nightmares about them, which is where the loathing of black comes in. For as long as I could remember, if I had a nightmare involving a Mara, their eyes would turn this sickening black and their once beautiful features morphed into hideousness. There isn’t lore, or a book on them to study. There’s just speculation. All we know about them is based off of what The Leaders taught us. I sometimes wonder if they made up the Mara. You know, to spur us into doing our duty. What if the tattered soul isn’t given to them?” I shake my head. “I hope that’s not true.”

Declan rubs my back. “Where do you think mortal souls go if not to the Maras when it chooses bad?”

I swallow hard; scared my inner worry is correct. Or hell—that The Leaders can hear me. “Hell? To another world? I don’t know.”

“Damn.”

“That was basically my crazy ass way of explaining why I hate black. It brings in all of these unwanted emotions I’m not ready to confront. So black can suck it.”

Declan laughs and tilts my head up to look at him. “Should I be offended? I basically wear black every day of my life.”

I squint, taking a good, hard look at the man staring back at me. I shake my head. “No. The black brings out the turquoise in your eyes. They’re a completely different color, and it cancels out my ridiculous need to hate black. Lately, it doesn’t make me feel scared or sad or any other cruel reaction, it…it settles me.” I stroke his face. “No, Declan, seeing you wear black, and the way it manipulates your eyes, it now brings out a different feeling altogether.”

He chews on the inside of his bottom lip and doesn’t say anything. His hand stills on my back and the creases in his forehead make me wonder if I said something wrong—or too deep. We’re just learning about each other. Maybe I crossed a line.

Moving his eyes all over my face, searching for something, his furrowed brow deepens. I notice the absence of his hand on my back instantly and I sit up, crossing my legs.

I suddenly feel too vulnerable and want to curl up on my side to hide from him. His scrutiny terrifies me. I like him, but Jesus, I need to get myself under control.

Rising on his elbows, the lines in his forehead lessen and he looks down, away from my eyes. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”

I clear my throat, covering myself with my arms. I know he doesn’t really want me, or want a relationship, but I at least like him being around. I thought he felt the same. Sure, the kissing is a great plus, but maybe he just doesn’t want to be around me.

“Me being here, I mean. I should probably leave and come back in the morning.”

My nose twitches and I look down at my legs.
Okay, so I was right. This is why I don’t open myself up to anyone.

“It’s just safer for both of us,” Declan continues. “It’s so complicated, McKenna.” He uses my real name, not my nickname. I don’t know why that bothers me so much.

I nod, fighting the sting in my eyes. It’s so stupid, I don’t want to cry.

He takes hold of my hand, forcing the grip I have on my middle to loosen. “Hey, it’s for the best. You don’t want what I have to offer. Everyone is against us even being in the same room.”

I scoff. “What?”

“Sally can’t be okay with this,” he says. “Wood even said it’s a bad idea. What are we doing?”

I grit my teeth. We’ve both said this so many times since we met.
What are we doing?

I don’t freaking know.

“Why does it matter, Declan?” I say, getting agitated at our back and forth struggle. “Why can’t we just do what we want? Sally doesn’t have an opinion, honestly. She’s got some prejudice against Pursuers, but she’s not going to openly stop me from living my life. She trusts my judgment.” Though, I’m starting to question it myself. “Why are we allowing people to to dictate who we want to spend time with? I like you. I like spending time with you. That’s it. And as for Wood, that’s your deal. He’s your brother. I don’t want to get in the middle of that. And I don’t want to take you away from your responsibilities. So if I’m doing that, by all means, leave. But if you’re leaving because of what other people want us to do, then that’s bullshit.”