Trial by Heart (Trial Series Book 4) (13 page)

I twist my hands together and then grimace at the pain in my left arm. My eyes settle on the scars lining my inner right arm and the rest of my body. I assume Ben knows what these are from, just as he knows everything else about me. If looking like Sally from
The Nightmare Before Christmas
and being haunted by a two thousand year old curse aren’t enough to scare the alpha away, I doubt anything will.

For the first time since the trials began, I have a real choice about something. If I hurt him … if he rejects me … if something goes wrong … I won’t have magic to blame for this one.

Is it foolish to hope I have a future? Do I go into this knowing it’ll be short lived?

Since when have I ever really cared about what happens tomorrow? I’d be a fool to turn down a man with a body like his and a mind sharp enough to outsmart Erish.

I hop off the stool and test myself, fearful of being too far from Ben now that I know what happens if Erish has a chance to act. I wait until I hear Ben’s low voice cease talking and then walk into the hallway.

His gaze rests on me immediately, and I draw a deep breath.

“The answer is yes,” I tell him.

“Yes … what?”

“If you asked me out, I’d say yes.”

He studies me.

“As long as you understand I don’t know what’s going to happen in three days and I might cause your world to implode,” I add. “You have to know by now what happens to those around me.”

“Alpha,” he reminds with a faint smile. “I can handle it.”

I roll my eyes.

He approaches me and pauses in my personal space, sizing me up. “You’re certain?”

“Are
you
?” I retort. “I’m the one attached to a curse.”

“Yes.”

“This feels like an easy decision but I don’t know why.” Even if I am panicking a little. I hold my breath, my skin tingling with awareness and insides blooming with heat. I’m waiting for him to kiss me or drag me upstairs to bed. “It’s not magic, is it?” I ask, studying him.

“No.” Amusement flickers in his gaze. He doesn’t have to read my mind to know what I’m talking about; he can no doubt smell the fact I’m wet.

This is just good old fashioned attraction, or something similar. I’m not sure why that confuses me or why it’s stronger than I recall feeling for anyone before the trials. I have the urge to sink into his arms but am also wary, not fully convinced he knows what he’s getting into. Not fully convinced
I
know what I’m getting into. Of the two of us, I sense I’m the one who’s blind, not because I don’t want to take a chance on him, but because I fear falling into his arms and never wanting to leave.

I sense what could be between us – and it’s not the kind of thing that ends with the week, which means we’ll both be in pain.

“I’m freaking out,” I admit. Already, my breathing is off.

“I know.” He seems to be waiting again, either to see what I do or for me to make the first move.

Something tells me this decision is the last time we’ll stand here like this, with the alpha waiting for me to choose. Once I cross the one-way bridge, that’s it.

I kind of like the idea. It still baffles me he can know all there is to know about me and is standing before me, asking me out.

I reach forward and take his hand.

“What do you need from me?” he asks, squeezing mine.

Startled by the question, I stare at him for a long moment. I don’t think I’ve yet been the one to set the tone or terms for a relationship since the trials began. “For starters, to know you’re not planning on being killed in a few days or going to lose your soul or mate because you’re involved with me,” I reply in a half-joke.

“None of those apply.”

“And … maybe don’t leave my side until this is over. I kind of don’t like being stabbed by my own hand.” I lift my wounded arm with a wince.

“Done.”

“And you don’t have to be a wolf when you come visit tonight,” I add, a little breathlessly.

“I won’t be visiting, will I?” he counters.

I grin. “Last but not least, I need a kiss. Gotta see how you stack up to the candidates,” I tease. “They did have magic on their sides. I’m not sure –”

Before I can finish, his lips are on mine.

Any doubt I had about him being an alpha in bed is extinguished beneath the heat of his kiss.

The last thought I manage before sliding into my senses: I’m right about him playing for keeps. This isn’t a game to him, or a three-day affair. This is forever, assuming I survive.

Ben’s kiss is hot, deep, and slow, his taste a mix of coffee and his own flavor. He doesn’t need magic to stand out from the candidates. Not only is his kiss as natural as his touch, but the block of ice at my core vanishes, replaced by a new kind of warmth. The flurry of sensations inside me is a combination of emotions, desire and … relief. It’s not entirely a romantic feeling, more the sense I’m where I should be, that the two of us are being rejoined after too long separated.

Nathan was a breathtaking storm, Tristan a delicious dare and Myca an irresistible adventure. Ben … he’s my personal apocalypse. Our first kiss, and it’s over. A bubble of warm, giddy happiness leaks into my core, where the ice block used to be.

With him, I just
know.
I’ll never need anyone else with this level of consuming desire, never crave another man’s touch, never believe anyone else to be as strong, beautiful or brilliant.

Ben is the end for me.

The primal acknowledgement rocks my world in a way that makes the trials resemble a carnival ride.

I break away and step back, alarmed by what I feel and how unusually natural this all seems. I have little time to decipher the strange feeling. I’m tumbling into him faster than I expected to. This time, no part of me whatsoever resists, or wants to.

It scares me more than anything to free fall with no parachute and no way back to where I was.

“This isn’t magic?” I ask, unable to look away from him.

“Not the kind you’re thinking of,” he replies. “It’s not trial magic, Kingmaker magic or anything of the sort.”

I know what he’s hinting at but can’t bring myself to say it.

“Tell me what you need from me,” he repeats, studying me once more.

I clear my throat. “Ben, are you sure you can handle the curse? Me? This insanity?”

“Without a doubt.”

How can he mean it? His resolve is written on his face. I believe him. I really do. But it scares me to trust someone with everything I am, and to trust I won’t hurt him.

The silence is overbearing. He’s truthful about letting me decide and waits a few feet away, eyes on my face.

“Okay,” I whisper. The moment the word leaves my mouth, relief washes through me. I didn’t know how much I needed to trust someone else until now.

I close the distance between us. Leaning into his hard form, I lift my arms and circle his neck, pulling his head closer to mine for another deep kiss, this one without fear or reservations. His mouth claims mine hungrily, letting me know he craves me with the same inhuman need I do him.

Ben’s arms go around me, and I relax instinctively, safe in his embrace. His thick cock is pressed to my belly, and I can tell without looking that he’s as perfectly huge and thick as his brother. My pussy is wet for him, my blood raging with need, and I press myself the length of his body, needing to feel every inch of him against me.

He lifts his head to break off the kiss and holds me to him tightly.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Leslie,” he whispers.

I shiver at the brush of his hot breath across my neck. My breathing is uneven and shallow.

“Not until the trials are over,” he adds.

“You’re that confident I can fix this shit?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

He’s so wrong. I can’t voice the words and close my eyes, pressing my face to his chest so his intoxicating scent can soften the edges of my pain.

“Is that the only reason?” I press, suspecting he might know I’m supposed to die before this is over. He’s the smarter of the two of us; he’s not about to risk his heart when he knows I’ll crush it.

Ben leans back and lifts my chin. “No,” he replies, silver eyes holding my gaze.

I hold my breath and await the devastating news, whatever form it takes.

“I want you to be sure,” he says. “I want you to choose with your heart, not your pussy.” His half smile is back.

He’s a good guy.

I hate that, because I can’t trust myself with someone else’s emotions. I’m a mess in every sense and manage to drag everyone into my downward spiral. Except … Ben. He’s the opposite, even in this. He’s not interested in a one night stand or something temporary. This is permanent, and he’s not going to let me close my eyes and dive in like I usually do.

I’m not sure how to feel about that. It probably doesn’t matter, because I’ll be dead in a few days anyway. I want to ask him if we’re still mates despite the fact he’s not in the trials, but I’m almost afraid to hear the answer.

He made his decision, I remind myself silently. He knows what I am - and he still chooses me. We’re one of those tragic love stories, the kind I refuse to watch because I hate crying over a stupid movie.

“Okay,” I murmur. “I kind of like hugging you, though.”

“Anything but fucking.”

I nod and marvel over how weird it is to have someone draw boundaries – and me not mind. I’m used to breaking or ignoring rules. With Ben, I need his boundaries to limit my wildly swinging emotions and help me focus on what’s important in my world.

“So … if we aren’t going to fuck, what do we do?” I ask and hug him harder.

“Movies?”

I laugh. “Sounds good.”

He doesn’t release me. We stand in comfortable, if charged, silence, holding one another. When every last ounce of tension and worry has faded from my body, he takes my hand and leads me to the living area.

We watch movies until I fall asleep. I wake up cradled against Ben’s chest with one of his arms keeping me tight to his body and the other bicep beneath my neck as a pillow. Tracing my fingers through the sparse curls on his chest, I’m in no hurry to open my eyes, not when I’m safely tucked in the arms of the alpha. He’s wearing sweatpants and is bare chested. I nuzzle the warm skin of his neck and breathe in his scent, more fulfilled than I’ve ever been, without fucking him. It’s hard for me to fathom how I can be so content lying in bed with him.

Right here, right now, is where I belong. The sense is strong, as if Ben’s the home I never knew I needed. It’s also
real
, because there’s no magic this time. If not for the curse, I could stay with him forever.

Whenever I think things are going well, something terribly wrong happens, and I can’t help returning to one of Erish’s stupid claims. It’s hard for me to determine when the ghost is telling the truth and when he’s lying, but his statement about either Ben killing me or me killing him feels very … true. Especially if what I’ve come to suspect about Ben is true – that my father would have only entrusted my life to the one person who was not only destined to become my mate, but masterminding my trials.

After meeting Ben, I’d trust my life to him, too. He’ll always serve the greater good, but he’ll also never hurt me unless he absolutely must.

“Are you sure you’re in no danger from the curse?” I ask, unease fluttering through me.

“Positive.” Ben releases me to cup my cheek and shift my face to see his.

I open my eyes. His searing look makes me want to beg him to reconsider his moratorium on sex. One night – with or without sex – and I’m hooked on him. No questions asked.

The night passed too quickly to be a full nine hours, a mix of lust burning hot enough to sear my heart and peaceful slumber. I’m not sure how I slept when I can’t recall ever being this turned on. I soaked one pair of underwear then simply gave up wearing any, aware I’d drench the next pair as well. We’ve been making out off and on, but it’s not enough. I don’t think anything will ever be enough with Ben.

His eyes go to my lips, and he traces them lightly with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t ever want this to end,” I whisper. I take his thumb into my mouth, swirl my tongue around it then bite him gently.

Desire flares to life in his eyes once more. “It doesn’t have to.”

“Assuming I’m alive in two days,” I retort.

“And if you are?”

“I’m not planning that far ahead,” I say firmly.

“You’re afraid.”

I swear werewolves can read minds. “Terrified.”

He studies my features with the same intensity he possessed exploring my body during one of our make out sessions and traces a fingertip around my face. He’s not reassuring me or making any effort to dispel my fear. It shouldn’t bother me, because he’s the quiet kind of guy anyway, but it does, because ... well, I want more than two days with him. Thus far, he’s the only person who has the insight and foresight into what’s happening. I sense our potential – but I want to experience it as well.

“Then again, if I do live, I might have to sleep with the rest of your brothers, until I figure out which one of you I want,” I tease.

Ben’s eyes lift to mine and he scrutinizes me hard. I sense I’ve surprised him for once and start to smile.

He pushes me onto my back and settles on top of me, face inches from mine and hard cock pressed to my pussy through our clothing. His weight is divided between the hips settled between my thighs and the forearms on either side of my face.

I can feel the tautness of his frame, and his gaze is penetrating.

My breath catches. He’s even more beautiful angry than he is normally. I ignore the soft instinct whispering I’ve poked him hard enough to get a response and now’s the time to play submissive. I didn’t think it was possible to ruffle the always-in-control alpha. Now that I have, over something as innocent as a flippant joke, I’m not sure whether to heed the flutter of fear or the fact seeing his raw emotion is an incredible turn on.

“For once, I manage to provoke the alpha,” I whisper with a wide smile.

“Everyone else knows the danger in provoking me,” he growls.

I laugh and take his cheeks in my hands, exhilarated by his hard body and the intensity of his gaze – and knowing why he’s pissed. “You forget, Ben. I know the truth. You can’t hurt me,” I tell him and place a chaste kiss on his nose. I wait for his reaction and confirmation of what I already know to be true.