Page 36 of Mated Exile

"It's—"

Roarke sways forward, mouth twisting funnily, his brows slanting together. I push my palm against his chest, wanting to feel more contact with him, certain I can get beneath his skin if I try hard enough. Tilting my head back, I stare into his eyes, and I swear I canfeelhis hesitation. Maybe it's the alpha part of him, the part that seeps out into everything and has felt stronger since the night the vampires attacked.

"Just tell me," I murmur, inhaling and smelling a deep, tinged scent on the air that I get the feeling is arousal. Surely Finn would know. I take a mental note to ask him later. "Whatever it is, we can work through it if you'll just give me the chance. Maybe—maybe I can even do what that other hybrid did, and... and take more than one mate. If you're open to it."

His eyes widen, and he shudders. I feel the pulse of his warmth against my fingertips as he leans forward against my grip. Staring down into my eyes, he relaxes all of a sudden, and in a low voice he says, "Delilah, you're influencing me with your powers."

Sixteen

Roarke

Ican feel her inside me. Like a warm presence in my chest, surging with the beat of my heart. Her scent is strong in the scant inches between us, deep wood smoke and sharp lavender tinged with just a hint of dark chocolate. And the touch of her palm against my chest is a soothing balm even as I can feel the way her magic sinks beneath my skin and threads through my very thoughts. I want nothing more than to give in to it, to lean into the electric feeling of her touch, but I resist—just barely.

There are secrets I keep because I don't want anyone to know. None is bigger than the shameful, horrifying secret that keeps me tethered to Kieran. It's guilt as much as love and loyalty that makes me determined to see him rise again a new man, without the yoke of addiction around his neck.

So I point out what Delilah is doing, the secret clenched in my teeth, desperate to be let go even as I deny myself the luxury of saying it aloud.

At my words, she jerks back, horror in her deep green eyes. "That can't be, I would never do that. I don't even know how."

"I'm sure you weren't doing it intentionally," I tell her, feeling the withdrawal of her warmth like a shock to the system. My wolf hungers for more. Some part of me is desperate to be led instead of constantly weighed down with the burden of leading. "This magic thing is new for you. It'll probably work purely on subconscious instincts at first. I'm sure if you focus and learn how to use it deliberately, you'll be able to control it."

"No." She shakes her head firmly, hands clenched in front of her, an unhappy frown on her face. "I'm never using it intentionally. Hell, I'm never using itagainif I can help it. I'm so sorry Roarke, I never meant to do that to you."

"Hey—it's okay." Concern makes me take a step towards Delilah, but she cringes back, her eyes wide and miserable. "I forgive you. It was barely anything, and probably just a fraction of what the others feel when I use my own influence on them. Trust me, I understand."

"It's not the same." She takes a deep breath, looking down at her hands like they've betrayed her by touching me. "You're atruealpha, Roarke. A natural born leader. What I am is nothing like that."

This again. I hate the fact that it's become so obvious what's inside me. No part of me wants to have the burden of the pack's welfare fall on my shoulders—especially because, without a mate, it's a burden I would bear alone. The pack is better off with someone more worthy, the kind of alpha who would never lead another astray.

Delilah adds unhappily, "I'll never be able to trust myself. Neither will the pack. In the end, my father was probably right—they're going to find out what I am and hate me forever."

Hearing the sorrow in her voice, I step towards her and put my hands on her shoulders. I even dare to lean in close to her and fill my nostrils with more of her scent, a temptation I can barely afford.

In a soft voice I tell her, "They're not going to hate you, and you're not going to turn into some kind of monster, either. That's not who you are, Dee."

"How would you know?"

I arch a brow down at her. "Me? Are you forgetting we grew up together?"

"It's not the same." She puffs out her breath, stirring a bit of her dyed maroon hair. "Just because you knew me then doesn't mean you know this version of me. Maybe justhavingthese powers will make me dangerous."

Considering her unhappy face, I want nothing more than to undo her misery. If we were children again, it would be easy enough. I cajoled a thousand smiles and hundreds of snorting laughs from Delilah when we were both young. But the years between have hardened her out even as they've softened her at the edges, making her suspicious and wary, easily hurt despite her obvious bravery and strength.

A story comes to mind, one I remember from our time spent together laughing in the summer sun and skipping puddles on overcast days. Squeezing her shoulders, I ask, "Do you remember that time the tree fell near our little pond? The one you, me, and Kieran used to go to when our parents told us to get out of the house and not come back until after sunset for dinner?"

Her brows draw together, eyes glancing up at me. She shakes her head. "I remember the pond, but nothing about a tree falling. If this is some long-winded joke of yours—"

"I'm not joking," I tell her, wishing I could return to being that dumb little boy who thought everything was lighthearted. "It was around when we were ten or eleven. A tree fell near the pond, and it came down across one of the small rivulets of freshwater that flowed from the mountain. It was barely even a creek, deep enough to splash in and little else, but the tree was thick enough to form a dam over the entire thing."

Delilah's eyes widen with memory. "That's right! We used to dare each other to walk across the tree trunk without falling. It was thicker around than we were tall."

"Not that any of us were that tall," I joke, as I guide her to one of the benches near the dressing rooms, and we both sit down. A tag scratches at the waistband of the jeans I'm wearing, but I ignore it, diving into her forest green eyes instead. "When we came to the pond that summer and saw the tree had fallen, do you remember what you did?"

"No."

"There were these little fish—tiny minnows and goldfish. You were beside yourself because the tree had cut off their flow of water, and they were drowning in puddles an inch or two deep. So you started scooping them up in your palms and walking around to the other side of the trunk, where the water flowed into the pond, to save them."

She takes in a deep breath, and recognition softens her brows. "I made you and Kieran help me. You tried to put a bunch of the fish down his pants and shirt until I yelled at you because it was hurting them."

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