Escaping Death
Chapter 44

Solana

“Both of our mates already belonged to someone else.” Eli says softly. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

There’s that word again —belong.

I’ve said it so often and coveted it so much that it’s starting to sound foreign to me. Like the more I want it the less tangible it becomes. But I don’t think I’m alone in my desires. Everyone wants to belong somewhere. Some people just have an easier time belonging than others.

Take my mother for example. She irrefutably belongs in Twilight Grove, she’s arguably the very heart of the colony. I’m not saying I want to be the heart and center of attention, just so long as I’m not a vestigial organ — something expendable, something that once had a function but is now a relic, a remnant that evolution couldn’t fully expel.

That’s why I like doing things myself,formyself. Because I built it, I spilled my blood and breathed life into it. The deck I repaired for the guys, rebuilding Shadowmoon…that’s where I can leave my mark. Every wooden beam, every tile, every paint stroke is a living, breathing reflection of me. It’s home. Irrefutably.

Most people expect this kind of sentimentality from my sister, Calla. She’s the sweet, gentle, proper daughter. As poised and elegant as our grandmother, Ianthe. Not a toe out of line, not a hair out of place. A stark contrast to the shadows that darken my smile or the cruel ways entropy reigns over my appearance and, some would argue, my personality. Someone like me couldn’t possibly feel pain, couldn’t possibly want something as delicate as love.

“Maybe once upon a time,” I angle my head up and to the side so I can see his face. For someone with a gift for freezing things he has some of the warmest chocolate eyes, and I wonder if they alone are keeping him from freezing solid.

Eli brings his face down closer to mine. “Eu estava com saudades de você,” his whispered words are sung more than spoken. If poetry were a language it would be this.

He places tender kisses on my temple and my cheek before his lips find mine and our tongues gently caress one another. This kiss feels different than the ones I’ve shared with him before. It’s more intentional, more affectionate. Like he’s confessing something with every stroke and lick, every taste.

The sweeping of his tongue slows in favor of long, lingering kisses. “Está bem, Sunshine? Was Ace good to you?”

My cheeks warm with embarrassment. They say that Death has no secrets, but how much of the truth is sufficient? Do they know about Hunter and me? Do they know about Hunter, and me,and Ace? I hated feeling like my body was in control of me and not the other way around, I hate even more everyone making it athing.

“His bark is worse than his bite,” my smirk quickly fades into a deep frown. “It’s not his fault – him not telling you. I thought it would be easier to leave if no one knew.”

“And now?” His voice is colored with what sounds like hope.

“And now things are more fucked up than ever. Ace hates Hunter and me, Hunter hates me and Ace, you have every reason to hate me, Tate –”

“Wait, what? Why would I hate you?”

“Because I’m just like your mate.” My voice is so small I barely recognize it. “I was starting a family with someone’s mate, I ruined their chance at a bond.”

With the deftness of a cougar, Eli shifts us so he’s hovering above me caging me between his arms. “You’renothinglike her.” His conviction is sharp and clear.

“How can you say that?”

Eli stares at me for a long moment before he whispers, “porquevocê é fogo.” He doesn’t hesitate when he leans down and captures my mouth with a kiss so fiery that it leaves me with freeze burn.

“For someone trying to escape,” Tate’s voice startles us from behind, “you’re not putting up much of a fight.” He tosses my backpack so that it lands at my feet.

Eli begrudgingly breaks our kiss, growling his frustration to an amused Tate. “That’s because she’s not escaping.”

“Whatever you say,” Tate makes no attempt to hide his disinterest. He hops out of the window with more grace than either Eli or myself managed and crouches down next to us.

“Beat it, Eli,” Tate gestures for him to leave us alone. “And I mean that literally, you do a shit job of concealing your hard-on.”

Eli pushes away from me so he’s resting back on his feet, “maybe I knew you were watching. I do love to show off.”

“Well, if you’re quite finished with show and tell…” Tate trails off, once more pointing to the window that leads back inside the house.

“Sunshine, I give you full permission to push him off the roof if need be.” Eli taunts him with a playful punch to the shoulder before he climbs up through the window and disappears back inside the house.

Eli may be the one with ice but I never feel as cold near him as I do with Tate. It’s not a bad cold, though. It’s the plunge in temperature when you step out of the sun and into the shadows. It’s the chill that shivers up from the base of your spine all the way up to your neck before spilling goosebumps across your chest and shoulders. The kind of chill that makes you gasp when it hits you and makes you breathe a little harder and a little faster.

“This would have been number six.” He says with no preamble, only smiling when he reads the what-the-fuck-are-you-talking-about expression on my face. “The number of times you’ve run off on us. Not including your midnight rendezvous, of course.”

I remain silent because I have nothing to say. I’m not beholden to him or Death and their rules.

“I’m actually beginning to think it’s the chase you’re after. You run and we follow, falling into a game of cat and mouse again and again.” Tate stares at me like he’s trying to see into the depths of my soul, as if my eyes hold the key to some untold mystery that he’s sure exists.

“Yeah,” I scoff at how ridiculously self-indulged that would make me if it were true, “you nailed it. I’m playing hard to get.”

Tate chuckles out loud, I think it’s the closest thing to a laugh I’ve ever heard from him. “If we wanted to keep you in the house it would only be a matter of where. I could have tied you up that first night we met, I could tie you up right here and now.” Darkness tints his expression, walking the line of flirtatious banter and lethal intentions.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” I challenge him right back.

The thin slash of red that is Tate’s mouth twists up into the most sinister smile I’ve ever seen. “We’ve all got our kinks.”

“So why haven’t you then?”

“Lock you up?” He confirms, his expression sobering. “I’ll never force someone to stay. I want them to want to stay.”

Two things hit me square in the face at that exact moment. The first is that I’m an idiot. Dean told me about how their mom took off on them so it’s not hard to connect the dots and deduce that Tate still carries that pain around today. The second is how similar that notion is to what Eli said to me.It’s not stupid to want to be wanted.

Tate must see me doing the mental math into his personal life and he quickly pivots the conversation. “So, how do you want to do this? You want to get a head start and I’ll catch up to you, or should we just go together?”

This guy gives me serious mental whiplash. “What?”

“Let’s get out of here. I’m sure you’re sick of these four walls.”

“And go where?”

Tate shrugs one shoulder, “Caligo?”

I bite my lip trying to temper how much I would actually love to do that but I fail, miserably. I’m already hovering above the roof by the time he stretches his wings. “Last one there has to buy.” I taunt him and disappear into the shadows of the night, racing as fast as my beating heart towards my home away from home.

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