Caine arms tightened around Danni as he glanced at Ephraim, who explained, “She’s a nurse.”

“Nurse practitioner, actually,” at Ephraim’s confused expression she added, “I work at the RN level so that I can work as a live-in,” with a shrug as she moved forward, but she’d barely taken two steps before she found herself shoved back behind Christofer.

“She’s not going anywhere near her,” Christofer growled, and wasn’t that sweet? He was worried about her.

It really was nice to have someone care about her safety, she thought as she stepped past him, pinching the back of his hand when he went to grab her again. “Ow!”

“I’m fine,” Danni said, looking anything but fine. “I just need to lie down for a bit that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Cloe asked hesitantly, not entirely sure that she should take no for an answer, but after a minute she reminded herself that this wasn’t one of her patients. If they wanted her help, they’d ask.

“I’m sure,” Danni mumbled sleepily as she closed her eyes.

“I’m going to take her upstairs,” Caine said softly, pressing a kiss against the tip of Danni’s nose, which earned him a tired smile from his mate as he carried her up the stairs.

“Are you mates?” Izzy suddenly asked, startling her.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, not a hundred percent sure that she’d heard correctly or even how to respond.

Izzy frowned, looking adorably confused as she asked, “You’re mated, right?”

When Cloe didn’t answer right away, because she couldn’t seem to find the right words, Izzy quickly explained, “It’s just that there are children in the house and we don’t want them to get the wrong idea. If you’re not mated, then I planned to set you both up in different rooms. If you are-”

“We’re mated,” she blurted out before Izzy had the chance to suggest that they stay in separate rooms.

She didn’t know anyone here, didn’t trust anyone and until she-

Okay, fine. She just didn’t want to be away from Christofer. She’d grown addicted to sleeping in his arms over the past week and she wasn’t ready to give that up yet. She felt safe in his arms. Besides, if she was going to end up getting her heart broken she should at least be able to enjoy herself before she ended up hating him.

Chapter 50


His father was a f**king demon, he thought with a bitter laugh at the irony as he dropped his head forward, allowing the hot water to rain down on him.

Of all the rumors that he’d heard over the years, it figured that the one that he’d never believed would turn out to be the truth. His father was a demon, one of the first that Satan supposedly set loose on earth in an attempt to gain the upper hand in this f**ked up game he played against God. He didn’t want to believe it, would give anything for it not to be true and as Ephraim had delivered the bad news to him, he’d known that there was no denying it.

He truly was a monster among monsters.

“Are you okay?” Cloe asked, pressing a kiss against his back as her arms wrapped around him.

“Yes,” he said automatically, the habit well ingrained in him after too many years of trying to protect Marta from his personal bullshit.

“Liar,” Cloe said, chuckling as she pressed another kiss against his back.

Lips twitching in amusement despite the fact that he felt like putting his fist through a wall, he placed one of his hands over hers where it laid against his stomach. “I’ll be fine,” he promised, wondering how it was possible for one woman to bring him so much peace.

“That’s better,” she said, turning her head so that she could rest her cheek against his back as she held him.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, wondering how she was taking the news.

“Oh,” she said, wrapping her fingers around his hand as she allowed her other hand to trail over his stomach, “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Even after what Ephraim just told us?” he asked, not really sure that he would be.

“You mean that you’re really part demon?” she asked in a seductively teasing tone as she trailed her fingers down his stomach until she was tracing the trail of hair that led from his navel to his groin with the tip of her finger and making it damn near impossible to stay focused on anything other than just how good it would feel if she would lower her hand and wrap it around-

A loud groan escaped him as she did just that. He licked his lips as he watched her stroke his hardening cock. The sight of her running her hand over his c**k was enough to have his balls pull up tight, greedy for her touch.

“You done pouting now?” she asked, giving his c**k a hard pull.

“Yes,” he growled, finding it difficult to care about anything, even his f**ked up existence, when he had the woman he loved stroking his cock.

“It doesn’t change anything, Christofer,” she said, punctuating her words with another kiss to his back.

“It changes everything,” he told her, slapping his hands against the tiled wall when he felt his legs begin to tremble.

“And how exactly does it change anything?”


“-doesn’t change anything,” she finished for him, giving the head of his c**k a squeeze that had him moaning. “But…….,” she said, letting her words trail off as she suddenly dropped his c**k and stepped away, taking her warmth and his peace away. “If you would rather pout, I could-”

Her words ended on a pleased sigh as she suddenly found herself in his arms. “I’m done pouting,” he promised, leaning down to kiss her.

“Are you sure?” she asked against his lips.

“Yes,” he swore, willing to promise her anything as long she stayed in his arms.

“Then you’re willing to give this a try?” she asked, pulling back just far enough so that she could meet his gaze as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Will it make you happy?” he asked, because he refused to argue with her and risk making her unhappy.

He’d done that with Marta, taking her from place to place, constantly on the run, always looking over his shoulder, terrified that if they didn’t run fast enough, far enough that he’d fail her, but in the end, he’d failed her anyway. Too many years on the run had drained Marta and he couldn’t stomach the idea of doing that to Cloe. He should have listened to Marta the first time she’d asked him to stop running. It was a mistake that he was going to have to live with for the rest of his too long life, and one that he had no plans of repeating.

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
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