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Authors: Eve Langlais

BOOK: Mated To The Devil
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“Why? I knew they’d react that way. It’s why I never told them what happened, but when the doctor announced I was pregnant, it was kind of hard to hide.”

“They threw you out before you had the baby?” in his shock the vehicle swerved.

“That same day,” she announced in an artificially bright voice, pleased in a sense at his horror. Surely a man who could seem so horrified by her parents’ actions wasn’t all bad? “You know what, though, it was probably for the better. I don’t need my son influenced by their hatred for anything they consider sinful.” And the list of things they considered sinful was lengthy. Mina most especially enjoyed the pleasurable defiance she felt every time she watched an R-rated movie or slept in on a Sunday instead of going to church and bruising her knees for a few hours.

“Well, the only kind of sin you’ll encounter in our town is the decadent kind when you taste Marjolie’s double-chocolate brownies.”

A smile tilted her lips. “I look forward to it then.”

While her conversation with Pierre eased some of her fears, she couldn’t help the flutter in her tummy as the time drew near for her to come face-to-face with Remy. She hoped she wouldn’t do something stupid like faint or throw up on his feet. She’d done that once when pregnant to a stranger in the subway. Some shames could never be lived down.

Chapter Ten

Remy received no warning. He walked into his father’s house, and the scent instantly hit him. It raised all the hair on his body—and sprouted a few new ones. Disbelief made him stop dead.

That can’t be who I think it is.
He inhaled deeply and wanted to shout with joy because somehow, some way his mate had found him.
It’s a fucking miracle.
A second scent tempered his initial instinct to rush into the room, though. It tickled his nose with familiarity, and yet, he couldn’t place it, other than the fact it was Lycan. Had another wolf found his woman and returned her? Worse, did the wolf now try to lay claim to his female?

Never. I marked her first. She’s mine.
His wolf roused itself in his conscious, padding the confines of his mind, agitated at the very thought.

Ready to battle if needed, Remy strode into the great room of his family home, ignoring the soaring ceiling and familiar surroundings. His eyes focused first on his father who sat in his recliner, feet propped up as he watched something on the floor, hidden by the long couch.

“Remy, about time you got home. We have guests.” His father stood and held out a hand to draw up another person from the sofa, someone with a vanilla scent, still as short as he recalled and just as curvy.

Slowly, she turned around, her eyes meeting his and widening with recognition. Remembrance brought pink to her cheeks and parted her lips. Years ago or not, she recognized him just as he recognized her. His woman.
My mate.
Instant heat, longing, and desire hit him.

His father cleared his throat. “Remy, this is Mina Leblanc. I believe you two have met before.” Before Remy could open his mouth and recite the apology he’d practiced for so long, another shape bounced up from the floor on to the couch and peered at him with bright blue eyes from a mocha complexion. Remy’s jaw dropped. A roaring started in Remy’s ears, a white noise that pushed his father’s next pronouncement to a distance, still heard, but faintly “And this is her son, Jacques.” Left unsaid were the words
your son
. There was no denying or hiding it. Remy could see it in the boy. Scent it and feel it.

I’m a father.

The world spun. His mind went blank. He might have stood in stunned silence forever had the child not spoken.

“Mama, why does the man smell like me?”

He almost fell to his knees so weak did he suddenly feel.

Whole body trembling, Mina opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing emerged. Instead, her eyes rolled up in her head and she wilted.

Remy dove for her even though his father made sure she didn’t hit the ground. He snatched her from his dad, and held his mate tightly to him.
Holy fuck. She’s back.
He almost howled like a new pup with joy and relief. Heart thumping madly, he stared down at her, memorized her features, and found them just as he recalled. She looked as perfect as he remembered, if thinner.

“Why are you holding my mama?”

The little voice, rife with suspicion, drew his gaze down, and his legs suddenly quivered like gelatin. Remy sank to the couch, Mina cradled on his lap. No way was he letting go of her yet. “Your mother fainted. I am simply making sure she doesn’t fall.” A lame answer, but the boy seemed to accept it.

“I’m Jacques,” the boy announced with a puffed-out chest.

“And I am . . .”
Your father.
Remy wanted to say it. The declaration burned the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say it, not without first knowing what Mina had told the child. Much as he wanted to claim this boy—
blood of my blood
—he knew it needed to wait. “I am Remy. A friend.”

“Mama has no friends.”

The stark announcement made Remy’s throat tighten for some reason. He wondered how much of her solitude had to do with him, because of what he’d done to her.

“I am her friend. Yours, too, if you will let me.” How silly for a grown man to hold his breath as he waited for the answer of someone who came up just past his knees. But hold it he did.

Jacques regarded him warily. He bounced from the sofa and paced the space in front, his body taut, ready to move at the slightest provocation. Remy kept his gaze trained on his son.
My son. My son!
He wanted to shout it to the world.

His little nose wrinkled as his boy sniffed. “You smell like me. He does, too, a little,” Jacques said pointing at Remy’s father.

“You’re going to meet a lot of people here who smell like you. It’s because we’re special.”

“I know that. My mama tells me every day.”

Remy had to smile at his imperious tone. “She’s right.”

“I know. Mama’s always right. It’s ’cause she’s a grownup. But how come you smell like me?”

Out of the mouths of babes. How to answer without lying? His father solved his dilemma.

Pierre held out his hand. “Jacques, why don’t we go see if we can’t find some cookies in the kitchen while your mama has her little rest?”

“Okay. But no nuts. I like chocolate chip cookies.”

Watching the small hand of his son tuck up into the large one of his father as they left playfully discussing the merits of cookies, a prickling struck at the back of his throat. Remy swallowed, but the tickle moved to his eyes. He blinked, trying to dislodge the speck of dust, because surely the simple sight of his father and his child bonding over something stupid like cookies wasn’t bringing on tears. Crying was for girls and sissies,
and maybe a stupid man given a second chance at happiness.

Alone with Mina—
my lost mate
—he gave in to temptation and stroked her hair back from her temple. She’d changed and yet hadn’t in the years since he’d seen her. Even though drunk at the time, he’d remembered every feature, her image imprinted on his mind. While she’d lost some of the roundness in her cheeks, her skin still appeared creamy and blemish-free. Her hair hung in curls around her face in a shorter style and flowed through his fingers like silk. He couldn’t stop staring at her, stunned she’d returned to him.

The mother of my child.
A child given to her during a moment of drunken insanity.

How she must hate him. He’d behaved irresponsibly. Because he’d lost control, he’d not only taken her innocence, but burdened her with a baby. She, a mere slip of a girl, forced to become a mother without the aid and support of her mate or a pack. There weren’t enough hours in a day to grovel for forgiveness. Perhaps if he started now, maybe he could buy enough chocolate and flowers to at least get her to listen to his apology.

Her lashes fluttered first, signaling her rise to consciousness. A quick debate over whether to keep her on his lap or move away so as to not overwhelm her became moot when she opened her eyes. Brilliant blue depths peered at him, sucked him in, and made him remember why he’d felt so out of control those many years ago.

Even knowing what he now did—and stone-cold sober—his cock stirred and his heart rate sped up. It didn’t help that his awareness appeared contagious. Her full lips parted, her cheeks flushed a light pink, and a soft sigh escaped her.

“Remy.” She breathed his name, whispering it so it hit him soft as a caress. He almost bent down to take her lips before sanity smacked him.

A lack of control was why he’d lost her in the first place. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
So sit down and stop growling,
he admonished his wolf. Miffed, his furry side retreated but didn’t go to sleep. It, too, wanted to know what happened next.

He tried to let nothing of the turmoil in him show. “Hey, baby. Are you feeling all right?”

Her brow knitted, and she struggled to sit up, then scrambled off him. “Oh, dear heavens. I’m not dreaming this time, am I?”

As inadvertent admissions went, hers took him by surprise. “You dream of me?”

“No,” she stated vehemently, too vehemently, her cheeks crimson.

A grin split his face at her obvious lie. “There’s no shame in it, baby. I’ve been dreaming of you, too.”

Disbelief widened her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true. I’ve dreamed of you and missed you. I’ve been wanting to apologize for how I behaved all those years ago.”

“Yeah, well, apology accepted.”

Too easy. “Don’t you want to yell at me? Tell me what a jerk I am? Hit me a little?”

“No. I’m fine, thank you,” was her prim and proper reply.

“No, you’re not. You must be majorly pissed. I know I’d be.”

“What happened, happened, and it was years ago. I got over it. Now where’s my son?” She changed the topic abruptly.


Our
son is in the kitchen with his grandfather getting a cookie. He’s a precious little guy,” he added with a wry grin.

“You didn’t tell him you’re his father, did you?” Her frantic query made his smile fade.

“No.”

“Good. I mean, not that you being his father is a bad thing. It’s not. It’s just I didn’t tell him. And he doesn’t know. Has no clue actually.”

“So, what have you told him?”

With her eyes downcast, he couldn’t read her expression. “Nothing actually. We’ve never discussed the whole daddy thing. We’ve never had to until now.”

“So you will tell him?”

She nodded.

He didn’t want to push her, but . . . “When? I know this is sudden, but I don’t want to keep it a secret for long. I’d like to be a father to my son. I also want to get a chance to know you.” Remy spoke the truth. No use starting off with any lies, not when he already had so much to atone for.

Hands fluttered in his direction whether to shoo him away or halt his words, he couldn’t figure out. “You don’t need to pretend interest in me. I-I’ve already decided to let Jacques spend some time with you. You are his father.” She grimaced. “But that’s as far as it goes.”

“What do you mean?” He played dumb, not sure just how much of their culture his father had relayed to her.

“I know.”

“Know what?”

“About the whole wolf, biting, married thing. And just so it’s clear, if there’s a way we can like divorce, or something, then that’s fine with me.”

His lips tightened. “I see. Did my father not explain that Lycans mate for life?”

“Yes. But you were drunk when you bit me. You made a mistake. Obviously you can’t be expected to have to live with that for the rest of your life.”

“Who said you were a mistake?”

“N-no one.”

“Then why would you think that?”

“Well because. I mean, look at us.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye when she gestured first to him then herself. “You can’t tell me I’m who you would have chosen had you been sober. We’re so different.”

“Different? Why? Is it because of my skin color?” Mina hadn’t seemed racist, but anything was possible.

“What?” Her eyes darted up to meet his. “No, your color is fine. Nice even. Better than my pale skin.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’d give anything to tan and not burn. I mean just, you’re so good-looking and well-off and a part of something, even if it’s a weird werewolf cult, while I’m just a nobody with nothing to her name. Not even a family.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and? Isn’t that enough?”

“I think your reasons are bullshit.” She recoiled, and he wanted to bite his tongue off for his crude language. “Sorry .What I should have said was, despite what you think, you were destined to be mine. Drunk or not, from the moment I met you, I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

She snorted and immediately looked appalled. “Oh, please. Be serious.”

“I am being serious. The instant attraction and connection I felt for you is why I lost my mind when I saw those guys
touching
you.” His lip curled in remembrance. Despite getting tossed from college, he never did regret the beat-down he gave those two bastards.

“I guess I never properly thanked you for that.”

He just about choked. “Thanked me? I saved you from rape only to seduce you myself. I was no better than they were.”

Her eyes dropped, and her cheeks turned an adorable pink. “You didn’t force yourself on me.”

“Barely.”

“I could have said no or fought.”

“And I could have shown more self-control.”

A small smile curled her lips. “I guess we could play the blame game a bit more, but it’s been enough years. It’s over and done now.”

“Over and done except for the fact we created a child and we’re mated.”

“I’ve already told you that you don’t owe me anything. I love Jacques. I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

“And his father? Would you trade his father for someone else if given a chance?”

She shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I hardly know you. When you think about it, this is the longest we’ve ever talked. You can’t expect me to answer a question like that based on the little bit I’ve seen and heard so far.”

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