Chapter 448

A grumbling, groaning little half-sigh breaks from Daphne’s lips as she stirs from her sleep. Because no, she does…not want to be awake right now.

Please, she begs her wolf, who is shaking out her fur, turning towards the door with interest. You’re imagining it – you always are. It’s not real – he’s not here, he’s not ever coming here again. Just…let’s go back to sleep. It’s better when we’re not conscious.

But the little rap comes again and Daphne stills, realizing that…she didn’t imagine it. That there is a knock at the door.

It’s real, her wolf whispers, awed and a little afraid.

Daphne sniffs the air because…it’s her boss, or one of her co-workers. Not…not…

But the scent on the air. She’s not imagining that, is she? She can’t. The hundred times she’s tried to conjure it in her mind recently she’s failed.

But there it is now in the air, undeniable.

“Daphne, please.”

A squeaky little sob breaks from her as Daphne sits up and wraps her arms around her knees, staring at the door. Her shoulders start to tremble as she wars with herself, her gentle copper wolf whining and urging her forward, wanting desperately for her to open the door, to throw herself into his arms.

But…she knows better than to do that.

It’s done. The whole thing is done, it’s over.

And her life will be better if she just…lets it go. A clean break.

“Daphne, please!” he says, knocking hard on the door twice with his fist. His voice breaks on her name this time. “…please.”

Daphne looks down and to her right, to the little grey shadow cat curled against her pillow, looking up at her with big sad eyes. The kitten who hasn’t left her side for a moment, who always sleeps curled beneath her chin.

She sighs, knowing it’s no good. That no matter what she knows is most logical, and safe, and healthy…that she hasn’t let him go. That she won’t. Can’t.

“It’s open,” she whispers, knowing he’ll hear her, as she reaches out to stroke a hand over the cat’s silky half-real fur.

Half real, like all his love for her could ever be. At least now, tied up as he is in a mating bond with another woman.

There’s silence and then the door’s handle clicks and it swings open.

Jesse stands there in the doorway, leaning against the frame, silhouetted in darkness. He sighs. “Why are you sleeping with your door unlocked, Daphne?”

She just shrugs, her eyes on the cat. It wasn’t something she’d planned. It just…doesn’t seem to matter anymore, keeping everything in order, the way she always liked to. Following the rules, keeping life ship-shape, making sure everything was as it should be…

Doing that is just…stupid now.

“Daphne,” he says again.

She doesn’t look up.

Daphne hears it when Jesse slowly crosses the room. She presses her eyes shut at the sound of his boots, his weight, real and substantial, against her floor. Not a dream, not a dream – not like the thousands of dreams she had of him coming back.

This time real. And so…so much worse for it.

“Daph,” he whispers, and she hears the soft shush of him kneeling down in front of her, feels the soft press of his palm against her cheek. A barely audible whine breaks from her throat and she leans into that hand, just slightly. “Daph, sweetheart, are you all right?”

She opens her eyes at that, staring into his pretty brown ones, just inches from her face. And her heart breaks again, and her face crumples, and she starts to cry.

“Oh, heavens, Daphne,” Jesse murmurs, immediately climbing onto the bed with her and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in tight to his chest, tucking her head in beneath his chin. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

She continues to cry big heaving sobs, her wolf howling with joy at the sudden surprise closeness of him again – when she never expected it, never hoped for it. But then – the agony of knowing that this is a goodbye – that she can’t keep him -

God, but it just makes her cry harder. And she hates herself for it.

Jesse holds Daphne for a long time, letting her cry herself out, stroking his hand long and slow up and down her back. He shushes her, and hums to her, and only once fails to resist the temptation to duck his head close and take a long, slow sniff of her scent. Because…he knows it’s not fair. That his wolf is thrilled, and joy pulses through him to have her close again, and that it’s…it’s just not even. It’s not fair.

But eventually her tears subside, just a little. And she quiets and stills. And raises her head to look into his face.

His heart breaks to see the very real sadness there, and he lifts a hand, brushing at the tears on her cheek with his thumb, his eyes taking in the rough redness around her eyes, and the sweet, adorable freckles that dust her nose, and the lush, raw shape of her lips.

Jesse clenches his jaw as his wolf snarls, wanting her. Wanting her with a desperation that…

That is completely unfair. Inwardly Jesse snarls at his wolf, smacking him on his nose, forcing him to back down. His wolf grumbles but humbly obeys, working hard to deny his instinct to give Daphne the space she needs.

“Don’t look at me,” Daphne murmurs, embarrassed, raising an arm to wipe her nose and her cheeks on her sleeve.

“Please, don’t ever ask that of me,” Jesse whispers, running his hand over the tumbling auburn waves of her hair. “It would be the greatest regret of my life, to never look at you again.”

But she flinches away, and he sighs, thinking…well, that it was the truth, but perhaps not the kindest thing he could say.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” she says softly, sitting straighter, putting some distance between them. “I was…worried about you. We all were.”

“I’m fine,” Jesse says, quiet. He reaches out, though, and takes her chin in his hand, turning her face to peer at her cheek where Midnight’s claws cut her. “Ella patched you up?”

“Yes,” Daphne says, straightening her shoulders and gently taking her chin from his hand. “Your whole family was very kind to me.”

“Don’t do that, Daph,” Jesse whispers, shaking his head at her.

Her eyes flash a bit. “Do what?”

“Fall back on…politeness and courtesy,” he says, giving a shrug. “We’re – we’re so much more than that. Please don’t block me out.”

She sets her jaw, moving back an inch or two, the little cat peeking out at Jesse from behind her. “Are we more than that, Jesse? I don’t think we are. Not anymore.”

“Of course we are –“

“I’m a seamstress at your school, Jess,” Daphne snaps, saying the line she’s rehearsed in case this day ever came. The thought she’s said over and over to herself, to remind herself of her new place in his life. “You’re a mated man. That is…our relationship now.”

He huffs almost in disbelief. “Daphne,” he says, leaning forward towards her. “That is…that is so not how I understand things.”

She glares at him a little, her chin dimpling as her mouth turns down at the corners, and his wolf howls with regret to make her so sad, even for a moment – even though he knows she’s endured so much more than moments of this.

“Stop,” she demands, her shoulders set determinedly back. “It – a clean break is better, Jesse. Don’t drag this out. It’s impossible – however we felt before is impossible. And I don’t think I can be your friend. I don’t think I can…handle that. So. We can just end it there.”

His wolf pants, desperate for that to not be true, and Jesse takes a deep breath, trying his best to stay cool.

“Daphne,” he says quietly, anxious for her to hear him. “My situation is not what you think it is.”

“Are you not mated?” she asks, tense and prim now, stern.

Jesse’s wolf howls at how lovely she is when she’s angry like that, but he works very hard and keeps his face completely serious.

“I have a mate,” he says slowly. “But I have not accepted the bond.”

She goes still, her eyes going wide. “Why not?”

“Because she’s…it’s very complicated Daphne. She’s like a child – she’s…a very traumatized person.”

Daphne exhales slowly, closing her eyes. “So, does that mean you don’t love her?”

He swallows hard, understanding that he’s walking a very fine line here. “Midnight is very important to me. I care about her very, very much. But it is…not romantic.”

Daphne stays still for a long moment and then nods once. “I think you should go.”

Jesse sits up straight, appalled. “What!?” he nearly shouts. “Why!?”

She opens her eyes again, glaring hard, anger now the singular expression on her face. “Because you’re about to ask me to be your mistress, Jesse Sinclair. And I might be poor, and unconnected, and uneducated – but I will not be insulted like that. Not ever, but especially not by you.”

Jesse’s mouth hangs open as he stares at the love of his life, completely shocked.