Page 71 of Mated Exile

"I'm sorry," he says, deep color rising in his cheeks, darkening even his brown complexion. "I didn't realize it was you at first."

I very pointedly don't mention that he said my name before he thrust his hips. He's already embarrassed enough, and if I push things, I'm going to wind up losingallmy self-control.

The last thing I want is to be just like the piece of shit who left those marks on either side of his thighs. If I ever touch him, he'll be completely aware that it's me doing it, and no part of him will be unconscious or out of it.

"It's okay," I tell him, because it really, really is. "You were asleep, and I think you got a little confused."

"Oh my god." His eyes fly up to my neck as I get to my feet, and the horror on his face grows. "You're bleeding."

Reaching out, he skims his fingers across my skin, and I shiver a little at the touch. He's still standing close enough for me to feel his warmth and smell the lemon and berry scent of him in the air, earthen musk lying beneath it all. And of course, he's also close enough that I could reach out and touchhim.

Bastian frowns as he asks, "Are those bite marks in your neck? Did I—did I do that?"

"It's not a big deal. You didn't know it was me." His unhappiness only deepens, thick brows drawing together. I hasten to add, "It'll heal any second. In fact—see?"

Wiping the blood off, I show him the unmarred skin where the puncture wounds just were. It still hurts, but I force myself not to wince as I dig my fingertips into the spot. "Just a little temporary wound. Nothing to worry about."

"I can't believe I did that." He shakes his head, clearly unhappy. "First thing in the morning, I'm leaving. I can find my parents' old cabin in the woods and set up there."

"No! Don't do that." Grabbing his shoulders, I shake him a little, like I can shake the thought out of his head. "It was just a little mistake. You were sleepwalking, I fell on you, and you reacted. Now we know better, and it won't happen again."

"I don't deserve your kindness."

"Sure you do." Patting him on the back, I add, "Now, c'mon. Let's get you back to bed. It'll all be forgotten in the morning."

I usher him across the hallway and to the open bedroom door, mostly because I can't spend another minute standing in front of his naked, taut, muscular body. Especially with him still in a state of arousal, the memory of his hips sliding across mine far too recent to easily forget.

Thankfully, as he sits down on the bed and pulls the sheet across his lap, he seems to have calmed down in more ways than one. The tent, as Cat would say, is no longer pitched. Relieved, I sit down next to him and squeeze his shoulder, marveling at how difficult it is to stretch my fingers across its thickness.

"It really wasn't a big deal," I tell him, hoping to set the matter right before he goes to sleep. "You've lived alone for a long time, and in a constant state of terror. You were always fighting for your life. Of course you brought that out of captivity with you."

Bastian looks at me wryly. "I bit your neck and humped you," he says, startling me with his bare-open honesty. "I think it was more than just alittlething."

I swallow, resisting the urge to say that thethingwas far from little. "I'm just saying, I won't hold it against you. Not that long ago, before you got here, I tore the whole ass of my pants off in front of the guys. No one held that against me, and it was pretty embarrassing."

Grinning, Bastian points out, "I can think of a few reasons why they wouldn't have minded that."

He's not wrong. Grinning back, I tell him, "Well, consider it your party foul. I'll remember not to bump into you while you're sleepwalking. And maybe next time, you can lock the door—that might stop you from wandering around."

"Yeah. Good idea." As I start to stand up, thinking the matter settled, he reaches out to grab my hand. "Wait."

Shooting him a questioning look, I sit down again, my heart skipping just a little beat. "What is it?"

"There's something else I can tell you." His tone is serious now, and as he shifts back on the bed a little, the sheet rearranges itself around him, covering his nudity more thoroughly. "When you first asked me my story, I tried to tell you the truth, but I couldn't. Now I want you to know. It's only fair that you find out before you agree to let me stay here with you longer."

"Okay." Blinking at him, I wonder if this has something to do with the mental wall, and pull myself up to sit on the bed cross-legged. "Tell me, whatever it is."

Taking a deep breath, he lets it all tumble out of him. "I told you that my sister and I were both taken by the vamps after our parents were killed. That was true. We were together for years, only separated when they had tournaments in other territories and brought one of us along without the other.

"For years, we survived together. We watched out for each other. She was my lifeline." Genuine grief crosses his face. "I don't think I would've made it without her. A lot of the magic I taught you, the little things about growing plants and centering yourself in the earth, was stuff our mom taught her, that she passed on to me. It helped me take my mind to other places, when things got... too serious and difficult in the arena."

I bite my tongue, holding back my curiosity and anger about the intimate scars he bears. "It sounds like you loved her a lot."

"I did." He nods, his eyes fluttering closed as a spasm of grief crosses his face. "And I didn't completely lie when I told you that she died during an arena fight. That part was true. It was a werewolf that killed her."

For a moment he shudders. Then he drags his eyes up to my face, and I inhale sharply, sensing what he's going to say before it comes. Still, I hope for something else, knowing that if my guess is right, it'll be the worse thing that ever happened to him.

"What I didn't tell you was that the wolf... the one who killed her." Bastian shudders again. "It was me."

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