Trial by Heart (Trial Series Book 4) Page 10

  “I hope you dealt with that someone,” I say, angry someone would choose Jenny over Nate.

  “I did.”

  Ben’s firm response makes me shiver. In my mind, that person would deserve a stern lecture and to be fired.

  Werewolves don’t fire traitors, and implacable Ben seems even less likely to be swayed by compassion than Nathan, not when Ben is so in tune to the bigger picture. He gave up his ambitions in order to become the puppet master for the trials after a hundred years of plotting. He’s not going to tolerate one disloyal wolf, or several of them, fucking up his family.

  “I’m sorry it happened but I’m the most sorry Nathan is hurt,” I tell him.

  “He’s strong and smart. I’ve been keeping an eye on him. He’ll get through this.”

  I’m not so sure. Nathan’s a lot moodier than Ben.

  “An alpha knows when to intervene,” he adds at my silence.

  Must be nice to always have a clue what’s going on. I’m envious of Ben. “If it’s any consolation, you deserve to be Community leader,” I say.

  “My father instilled the need to work towards the greater good, to serve my wolves in the Community in whatever way they need me to. I feel I’m doing that by helping break the curse.”

  “Is it always about the greater good or your wolves?” I ask and face him, leaning my hip against the railing. I want to know more about him and I’m not satisfied with what I’ve learned in the time we’ve been together. I understand the importance of his ultimate purpose to break the curse, but I can’t figure him out.

  He mirrors my movement. “Up until now, yes. I didn’t have a reason to look beyond them.”

  “Don’t make me your reason!” I say with a bitter laugh. “Wait, am I the reason? Or do I keep making the hole I’m in deeper?”

  His smile is faint, his gaze on some point over my head.

  “Ben, you can’t like me,” I say, disturbed. “Look what happens to people around me. I annihilate everything, and I don’t plan on surviving the trials!”

  “I do like you. I don’t believe you’ll die this week, and I’m willing to take my chances with the curse.”

  The simple words render me breathless.

  “As long as you’re willing to rescue me from the villain, I don’t see why this can’t work,” he teases and meets my gaze.

  This? We have a this now? It’s simultaneously the best and worst idea I’ve ever heard, and I panic at the idea of becoming as vulnerable to him as I did the others. I’ve wanted Ben to open up to me since we met. Now that he has, I’m going to have a meltdown.

  “You weren’t ready for that, were you?” he asks softly.

  My thoughts are clamoring, my feelings somersaulting. Am I happy or nauseated? How can those two sensations feel so similar?

  “My arm hurts,” I answer, backing away. “I’ll see you at the house.”

  Before he can say anything else, I turn and start away at a quick walk and then break into a run that jars my poor arm.

  I make it about halfway down the gravel road when Erish acts.

  This time, he’s not content to take one hand.

  The sliding is back, and I stop in the middle of the gravel road, fighting the sense of losing myself or rather, losing control. I can’t draw in enough air. I’m back in the coffin buried alive, when my air was running out and I started to panic, or perhaps, watching from the backseat as my wolf took over absolute control of my body. I could trust her. I can’t trust Erish. The edges of my vision grow black, and my harsh breathing is loud in my ears.

  Can’t … breathe …

  “Let me show you what I can do, Kingmaker,” Erish’s whisper comes from inside my head.

  No, no, no!

  The ground beneath me quakes, and I start to topple into the darkness.

  “Fight it, Leslie.”

  Ben’s touch slams me out of the falling sensation so fast, I almost topple over. The vise around my chest releases, and I suck in air greedily as the world bursts into clarity once more.

  I clutch the soft material of Ben’s shirt, able to feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric. One of his thick arms is around me to keep me against his body, and I stay where I am until my senses right themselves again.

  “Holy … fuck …” I whisper.

  “I’ll revise my theory,” Ben says. “When I touch you, he can’t bother you.”

  I look up at him, uncertain why I’ve never noticed the difference between my size and someone else’s before. He’s strong enough to lift five of me without batting an eye, and I feel fragile in his arms.

  Ben touches my face lightly but drops his hand quickly. “Look, about what I said … I shouldn’t have.” The confident alpha who could observe the world ending, and still have a plan, is frowning. Warm concern is in his gaze.

  I want to tell him it’s okay but at the moment, I’m a little too surprised by Erish to speak. My composure returns, and I shift my weight from Ben’s body to mine. Awareness makes it harder for me to formulate a sentence, and I focus on testing my body to ensure it doesn’t collapse or betray me again.

  When I’m on my feet, I leave Ben’s arms but keep his hand in mine, in case he’s right.

  “Are you okay to walk?” he asks.

  I nod without looking at him. His intent gaze remains on me for a second more.

  We walk at a deliberate pace back to the house. I’m collecting my thoughts as I go. Erish isn’t joking about taking me over. Ben seems to be the only protection I have against the curse, and I might’ve ruined that by literally running away. I don’t know how to tell him what I’m thinking – or that I didn’t run because I’m not interested – without sounding like an idiot.

  He leads me into the house and to the kitchen.

  I sit heavily on a stool at the breakfast counter. The kitchen is clean after my incident earlier, and my eyes settle on Ben as he goes to the fridge to pour me a glass of juice.

  I accept it, debating how to say what I want to, and finally give up. I’ve never been one to think before I speak.

  “I panicked,” I say.

  “We don’t have to talk about it,” he replies. “You’ve got a lot to deal with.”

  Surprised, I look at him. “Did you change your mind already?”

  Ben’s watching me closely with the penetrating silver eyes. “No. But I think our focus should be on combatting the curse trying to possess you.”

  “Probably,” I admit. “But I like you, too. And that terrifies me.” Already, I’m starting to panic again. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in three days, if I even survive this, and I’ve left a trail of misery and destruction everywhere I go. And you … you’re … you. Too amazing to be caught up in my drama. I don’t want to hurt you or lose you or watch you die or know you’ll spend your life in pain!”

  “You won’t.”

  Two words. Nothing else. “Now’s a time to use your words, Ben!” I snap. “Why do you want anything to do with me anyway? No one in their right mind would!”

  “You’re the first Kingmaker in two thousand years who will oppose the curse. That’s enough to tell me what kind of person you are,” he replies.

  “I’m so fucking fed up with being defined by the curse! My entire life, I’ve been judged and isolated because of it.”

  “You’re brave, strong, beautiful and fun. Yeah, you’re a little lost or broken, but everyone is. Whether we met here, as part of the curse, or in a bar somewhere, I’d still ask you out,” he says. His phone vibrates, and he glances at it. “I’ve gotta take this.”

  He walks away to the hall, and I release the breath I’m holding. In the long silence that follows, I’m entertaining two trains of thought. The first, that if I have three days left to live, I definitely want to spend it right here, with him. The second: I’m not sure I can handle the emotional toll if Ben somehow suffers because of his involvement in my life.

  I’ve been at the crossroads multiple times in the trials and honing my
instinct for what to do. The sense I might not be ready for him, that the quiet alpha may become much more alpha, much less quiet, if I cross this bridge, casts doubt on the impulsive side of me that wants to throw all caution to the wind and fuck the sexiest man on the planet.

  I’m waiting for the instinct that tells me when something is wrong to speak up. For once, my gut tells me to go for it. What do I have to lose? I’m already expecting to die in three days.

  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.