“I love your eyes,” he answered. “I wish I could take the weariness from them.”

  She shook her head but continued to hold his stare. “I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t weary. This world is wearing. It beats away at you until you're so bruised that it simply hurts to breathe. I don’t think anything can take it away. Not anymore.”

  Skender had to fight his instincts, the ones that told him to hold her, to comfort her, and show her that she wasn’t alone in this world. He would shelter her from the beating and gladly take the bruises for her.

  “You have to stop,” she whispered. Her voice sounded breathless.

  “Stop what?” He moved to take a step toward her, but she held up a hand and shook her head.

  “Stop acting like you’re going to be here.” Her small hands fisted at her sides as her body grew rigid. “Torion is getting attached to you. He’s never had a male to look up to. And I—” She paused, biting her lip as if she was trying to stop herself from saying whatever it was that she had been about to say.

  “You what?” Skender asked, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. He was trying to keep breathing as he waited, hoping she would answer him. He wanted to know her, anything, everything. He didn’t care what it was, how great or how small, how good or how bad. Skender just wanted to know his mate in a way others did not. He didn’t have the right to ask for it, and she should damn him to hell for even asking.

  “Nothing,” she finally said. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes briefly. He’d seen her do this before, every time she returned to Torion. It was as if she was willing away all of the darkness she’d encountered while she’d been away. She was a wonderful mother. Her love for Torion was evident in every look, touch, and word she gave to the boy.

  When she stepped forward, Skender automatically moved aside so she could reach the door. He allowed himself to remain close enough that he could feel her body heat, but he didn’t dare touch her. Though he and his wolf were beyond desperate for contact, they would not sully her with their touch.

  When she was safely inside and he was left staring at the closed door, Skender shuddered and watched as fur rippled across his arms. The beast inside of him, though committed to letting their mate go, was struggling. Being close to her, but not being able to be with her, was almost too much for the wolf to bear. Their bond was incomplete, and that was a pain Skender had never before experienced. After so long without a mate, he was used to dealing with the darkness inside. But now that she’d been found, it was as if the darkness was coming alive, as if it somehow knew the thing that could vanquish it was close at hand. It was no less than he deserved. But he needed to get his mate and child out of the Order before he went feral.

  “How long do you have?” Tenia’s voice filled his mind, and Skender had to brace his hand against the wall as her emotions hit him. She’d said she was weary, but that was putting it lightly. His mate was on the verge of caving in on herself. The only thing keeping her from crumbling was Torion and her furious desire to protect him. “Skender,” her voice came again. “How long until the darkness completely takes over?”

  She’d been listening to his thoughts, and he’d been so focused on his wolf that he hadn’t even noticed her presence. “I have enough time, soarele meu,” he said gently, the endearment flowing out of him as if he’d always called her that. My sun. She was the light to his darkness. The goodness to the evil that lived inside of him. But he’d found her too late. Like a plant kept in the shadows for too long, his soul was withered. The life had already been choked out of him.

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “My wolf and I will fight the darkness until you and Torion are safe. Nothing is stronger than my need to protect what is mine.”

  “No,” she said, sounding frustrated. “How do you know you found me too late?”

  He pushed away from the wall and lifted his head to look at the door, as if he stared long enough then he would be able to see through it, see her. She didn’t want details of his horrific actions, not that he wanted to give them to her, but he didn’t know if there was a way to answer her without revealing everything. Skender formed the words carefully as he responded. “Because no matter how pure your light is, no matter how bright it shines, it cannot take away the dark stains that have been left in me because of my actions. Light can break through darkness, but it cannot remove what the light reveals.” He felt sick as he considered his words. The light illuminated everything that was hidden. His sins would come out whether either of them wanted it. How could they not? That’s what light did—it revealed, it displayed, it bore witness to what had once been concealed.

  He felt her anguish and hated that he was the cause of it. The bond was affecting her just as much as it was him. She needed him. She craved him. It wasn’t natural for true mates to ignore the bond. It would have been better for her if she’d never met him.

  “Tell me something about yourself,” she said suddenly, her voice sounding urgent. “Anything.”

  Skender turned and leaned against the wall next to the door. He folded his arms across his chest and rested his head back. Her request was a balm to the constant ache that covered his entire body. “I was a member of the Romanian pack before coming to the Order. I had the privilege of fighting beside the greatest alpha the Canis lupus had ever seen. But I wasn’t always a member. I wasn’t born into that pack.” He could feel her interest and imagined her settling on the floor on the other side of the wall.

  “Where were you before?”

  “My parents were part of a rogue pack.”

  “What?” Her voice rose in his mind, and her shock rippled through him. Few knew about the rogue packs, and he didn’t know if any remained. He hadn’t even been conscious of the fact that he’d been a member of a rogue pack until he’d returned to the Order. It was as if a spell shrouded his brain and had been lifted off of him the minute he stepped into the compound. The memories had hit him like a ton of bricks.

  “Returned?” Tenia asked. Apparently, she was paying very close attention to his thoughts after having ignored him for months.

  “My parents were a part of the Order when I was a child. Many of the rogue packs were loyal to the Order,” he explained. “My parents were killed by a pack of Canis lupus that had discovered their loyalty, though they didn’t know they were a part of a rogue pack.

  “My memories were stolen, and I was dropped off at the door of the Romanian pack. Well, at that time it was more like a village.” He paused as he remembered meeting Vasile Lupei for the first time. Despite the fact that Skender had been a teenager, Vasile had seemed huge, larger than life, and power had radiated off him like heat from the sun. “Vasile and his mate took me in. All I knew was that my parents had been killed. I didn’t have any memory of the Order, the rogues, or anything. It was just a blank space in my mind. They took me in and gave me a home, a pack.” And he’d thrown it in their faces as if it had never meant anything at all. Skender hit his head back against the wall, letting pain wash over him. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to take the punishment he deserved because maybe then he could atone for all that he’d done. He pulled a small, silver blade from a pocket on his thigh then pushed up the sleeve of his right arm. There were two letters already completed in the word he’d begun to carve into his skin. The pain the fae blade delivered was a bite that he welcomed. Skender usually only did it when Tenia wasn’t around, but talking about his past, remembering the atrocities it had led to, was too much. He needed the relief of the blade.

  He took the tip and pressed it into his flesh, beginning the next letter. The blood welled up immediately, and the sight of it was its own sort of release. He ground his teeth together, forcing himself not to make a sound.

  “What are you doing?” Tenia’s voice sounded frightened. “Stop it. Whatever you’re doing, stop it.”

  Skender, so lost in his own self-loathing, had forgotten to block her from the pain. She would be feeling exactly what he was. He threw up a wall between them. Though she was still in his mind, she wouldn’t feel the blade.

  “Skender,” she practically snarled at him. “I know you’re just blocking it. Why are you hurting yourself? How are you hurting yourself?”

  “It is nothing you need to worry yourself over, soarele meu,” he said, attempting to sound unaffected, though his arm was burning inside like fire crawling in his veins and nerves.

  “Do you worry over me?” she challenged. “Doesn’t it hurt you when I hurt? Doesn’t it rip you apart inside to consider that there’s something wrong with me you cannot fix? Please tell me I’m not the only one going through this hell. Is every breath inside of you spent wondering if I will come back or if I will leave without saying goodbye? Isn’t that what true mates do? Isn’t that what they are?”

  She couldn’t have hurt him more even if she’d taken the fae blade from his hand and thrusted it through his heart. Distance. He needed to put distance between them. Not physically, since it’s not like they saw each other much. Keeping the bond so open had been creating a connection for them, and he’d hoped it was only one way. He’d figured because of what he’d told her about himself, that she’d want nothing to do with him. Apparently, he’d been wrong and even without trying, he was hurting her. “I am not the true mate you want, Tenia. I will be your protector, your champion, anything else you need, but not your true mate.” He made another cut, matching the torture of his words with physical pain. She was his and he was hers, and yet they could never be together. It was a new kind of hell. The statement he’d made to her tore him up inside. But even worse, he could feel the pain his words caused her. He hadn’t wanted to cut her with them, but he had, deeply. But it was necessary if he wanted to save her pain later.

  “Who are you to decide what will save me pain?”

  She was angry. He would take her anger over pain any day. “As my wolf has already explained, it is my job to protect you even from myself, even from you. Hurting you is not what I want. If you had any idea what you mean to me, how long I’ve waited for you… I imagined you a thousand times in my mind, but none of my thoughts compared to your reality.” He continued to work the blade on his arm even as he spoke with the female who held the other half of his soul. “I imagined a life with you and everything we could have. And you, my female … you far exceeded anything I could have conjured. I am so sorry. Maybe it’s a blessing that you are not a wolf. You don’t really know what it is I have stolen from us.” Skender could feel her frustration, her anger, and underneath those emotions, he felt her longing. It was worse than if she’d spat in his face and told him she never wanted to see him again. Because the longing meant she saw something in him worth wanting. Once she knew him, she would be disappointed.

  “Maybe you should just tell me and let me decide,” she said after several minutes of silence. “Shouldn’t I be the one to choose my fate?”

  Skender’s hand froze as he finished the fourth letter. “It’s not that easy, soarele meu.”

  “Why?” she demanded. “It’s my life, Skender. I am the one in control of it. I have the ability to make choices that are right for myself and Torion. You don’t get to make those choices for me.”

  Even if she did choose him after she knew everything, which there was no way in seven hells that she would, they still had no future together. His life was forfeit. If he didn’t die protecting his female and son, then his pack would hunt him down and kill him. It was the sentence for what he’d done, and it was what he deserved. Nothing less would atone for his actions. He couldn’t lead her into that kind of life. “You don’t get to make this choice, love. My crimes have one penalty, and for as long as I have been alive, that penalty has never been changed.”

  “What penalty? Who gives it?” Even through the bond, he could hear the tears in her voice.

  He didn’t want to tell her. He wanted to protect her.

  “Dammit, Skender. Tell me!”

  “Death, Tenia. The penalty for my crimes is death.” Skender finished the final letter in the word on his right arm and stared down at it. Now both of his arms bore the names of the two people in the world who would always have his loyalty, the two people in the world who he would give anything for. Torion on his left and Tenia on his right.

  “What did you do?” Her words were filled with desperation and pain.

  “You don’t want to know, my precious Tenia. Let it be.” He hoped that she would let it go because if she pushed even just a little more, he would break his wolf’s promise. He would tell her just to get it off his chest. Then she would know everything, and for some reason that was almost better than her not realizing just how horrible a person he was, how unredeemable he was. “Dammit.” He growled low under his breath into the quiet corridor and slammed his head against the wall again. Skender pulled out a piece of cloth from one of the many pockets on his cargo pants and began to wipe away the blood on his arm. This time of night, no one was wandering around the halls. Usually, he enjoyed what little peace he could take in it. But tonight, feeling his mate’s unhappiness with him, only left him at war with himself and his beast.

  “You’re tired, female,” he said, feeling her exhaustion again. “Please, get some rest.”

  “I’m a hell of a lot of things,” she muttered through their bond, but then added, “Everyone is redeemable, Skender. If that wasn’t so, then what’s the point of life? No one is perfect. So, if one of us isn’t redeemable, then none of us are.”

  Tenia climbed into the bed next to a sleeping Torion. He’d already been asleep when she’d entered the room, and part of her had been glad. She was so tired, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. She was empty, yet somehow she was so full of grief that it was choking her. Tenia had thought that if she kept the bond between them closed enough, then the bond wouldn’t affect her, but she’d been a fool. She’d heard all of her life about the true mate bond. What supernatural hadn’t? But now she realized there was no way to understand it without actually experiencing it. Tenia was starting to believe the only way she might have a chance of not growing closer to Skender was to completely cut him off, to shut him out totally. But just the thought of doing that threatened to asphyxiate her. She clenched her hands in fists so tightly that she felt her nails biting into her palms. She tried to control her shaking, for Torion’s sake and because of the cameras in the room. But her body wasn’t doing a great job of cooperating.

  Tenia hadn’t been prepared for her reaction to Skender when she’d seen him in the corridor. Simply seeing Skender had suddenly made it easier to breathe. The need had been worse than a punch to the gut. She’d nearly run to him and threw herself into his arms. She’d wanted him to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Instead, she’d had a conversation that led to him telling her he had a death sentence hanging over his head. “Dammit, dammit, dammit,” she said so softly that she barely heard her own voice. The thought that his arms would never hold her, that his lips would never caress her skin as he spoke gentle words to her, was like a blade cutting across her flesh. And the fact that a future grave had a stronger hold on him than she did was salt in the wounds. The finishing touch to her already battered body. He’s my true mate, dammit! He’s supposed to be mine.

  Tears rolled down her face as she silently grieved for the man she was only beginning to get to know. To her, he was gentle, kind, and attentive. But he spoke of himself as if he was a monster. He said he wasn’t redeemable. Was that true? Could his sins not be covered by the Great Luna’s grace? Was the only acceptable payment Skender’s life? If that was the case, then perhaps she deserved death as well. I am not faultless. I’ve had many transgressions. Some transgressions were those Tenia kept secret inside of her. Others, mostly those committed in service of the Order, were glaringly obvious, like a neon sign over her head. People had witnessed them. If Skender was beyond hope, then so was she. But she couldn’t die with him. That would leave Torion without a mother. Instead, she’d be doomed to live a life—a never-ending life—without her true mate. Could there be a worse fate?

  Her pillow was wet but she didn’t care. She’d held it together for nearly two days, doing Alston’s bidding, a form of transgression no matter her reason. Her actions would lead to many, many innocent deaths. She deserved to feel every single one of those deaths because their blood was on her hands. Now, in the quiet of her room, hiding her face as much as she could from the watchful eye of the cameras, Tenia let go of all the emotions she’d kept locked away and opened the door wide. First, she’d been angry that she’d been given a true mate. She’d had enough on her plate and didn’t need to add to it. But then, the longer she was around Skender, not just physically but mentally when they were apart, the more Tenia realized what a true mate was. A true mate meant she had someone with her always. She wasn’t alone when she was out in the world because Skender was always there inside of her, supporting her. A true mate meant she had someone who would always have her back, would protect her, love her, and provide for her. She’d never had that before. With a start, Tenia realized she’d begun making a pitiful mewling sound. She cut it off, even as her heart cracked because she realized that though she now had a true mate, she actually didn’t have all those things it entailed. She never would.

  She’d have been better off never knowing what it all felt like, and yet, she wouldn’t give it up now, not even if she would lose him in the end. For now, she understood what it meant to be adored, to be precious to someone. Everyone deserved to have someone look at them the way Skender looked at her. But then, maybe she didn’t because of her choice to assist the Order. Was her son’s life more important than the thousands that would be lost? Was it more important than the lives that had already been lost? She couldn’t answer those questions objectively. Torion was hers. He was the one good thing, the one thing untainted by anything evil. He was a part of her, the only part of her she didn’t loathe. Tenia reached out, her hand shaking a bit, and ran it down her sleeping son’s back. The warmth from his live, healthy body grounded her. She rested that same hand and watched the steady up and down motion of his breathing. Her eyes closed, and she focused on the sounds of the evidence of his life: his breathing, the feel of his heartbeat through his little body, the warmth of his skin through his shirt. He was alive, and for now, with Skender’s help, he was safe.