An Alien for Her Heart (A New Home #2)

23. Varek

23

VAREK

I wake in a haze.

Consciousness returns to me slowly, like swimming up through murky depths toward a distant light. The first thing I notice is the feel of soft skin beneath my claws, the scent of something sweet and familiar filling my airways.

My eyes flutter open and I blink rapidly, trying to focus my blurred vision. Gradually, the world resolves into the dim interior of my quarters, and the small, still form curled against my chest.

Catherine.

Memory crashes over me like a tidal wave and I jerk fully awake, a litany of curses in a dozen languages spilling past my lips. Stars above, what have I done?

She’s here, bare in my arms, her skin mottled with bruises and bite marks, her mane a wild tangle around her pale face. Even in the low light, I can see the claw-shaped impressions on her hips, the scratches marring the creamy expanse of her back.

Bile rises and I swallow hard against the sudden urge to be violently sick. I did this. I hurt her, used her, ravaged her like a beast , with no care for her comfort or enjoyment.

Disgust and self-loathing churn in my gut. The most precious thing in existence to me and look what I have done. How can I…how can I ever fix this?

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I try to steady myself. The urge to hide, to turn away from the evidence of my savagery, is strong. Shame, hot and bitter, rises like fire in my throat.

But I force it down. No. I cannot hide from this. From what I’ve done. I cannot pretend it didn’t happen, cannot absolve myself of the responsibility. I am many things—a warrior, a killer, a monster in the eyes of many. But I am not a coward.

Slowly, gingerly, I ease away from her. But as I start to pull away, her brow furrows and she makes a small, distressed sound, her hands clutching weakly at my arms. My core-beat stutters. Even now, even after what I’ve done, she reaches for me, seeks my comfort and protection.

The organ in my chest aches with a pain I’ve never known before…and behind it…behind its strangled beats, there is something else. Something I never thought I would ever hear. Ever feel.

The rhythm that sings beneath every beat is sure and strong. My core-rhythm. My song for the very female clutching at me, seeking my comfort.

Catherine is my kahl . My whole being sings for her.

A strangled sound comes from my lips. She really is mine. This soft, beautiful female is mine. And I have harmed her.

My throat tightens with a swell of emotion I can’t name. Despite my disgust with myself, I can’t help but gather her close again, cradling her gently against my chest. She yearns for comfort after what I have done and when she wakes, she might not want me to touch her anymore.

At this moment, I am taking a liberty, and my core-beat stutters some more.

Catherine stirs slightly, her lashes fluttering as she struggles towards wakefulness and I go still. I am not ready to face this. To face her with my shame.

“Varek?” Her voice is a thready rasp, hoarse from overuse.

“I’m here, sura.” I smooth her tangled mane back from her face with a trembling hand, marveling at the softness of the strands despite everything. “Don’t move. You need rest.”

Her eyes finally blink open, hazy and unfocused but so very green in the dim light. She frowns up at me for a moment, confusion creasing her brow. Then memory seems to surface and her expression clears, a weak but genuine smile curving her lips.

My core-beat stills.

“You’re back,” she whispers, lifting a trembling hand to cup my jaw. “Really back.”

I turn my face into her palm, breathing in the scent of her skin, letting it ground me. “I’m so sorry, sura,” I rasp, the words tearing at my throat. “Catherine, I never meant to hurt you. I tried to keep control and still… What I did…it’s unforgivable.”

To my shock, she shakes her head, her thumb stroking gently over my cheekbone. “No. You didn’t hurt me. I mean, yes, I’m sore but…” Another genuine smile creases her face. “It was incredible, Varek. Being with you like that, so raw and…and real…it was…it was everything I needed.”

I stare at her, searching her face for any hint of fear or revulsion and finding only tired satisfaction, affection, and wonder. “You…enjoyed it?” I hardly dare to believe what I’m hearing.

Her smile widens and she nods, curling herself more snugly into my embrace with a contented little sigh. “Mmm, very much. Though I may need a day or two before we do anything like that again.” A light, shy laugh escapes her. “I’m going to need time to recover.”

Relief crashes through me, so intense it’s nearly dizzying. She doesn’t hate me. She doesn’t fear me. Incredibly, impossibly, she seems…happy. Content, even after the brutality of my rutting.

But I can’t let myself forget the marks I’ve left on her, the evidence of my violence written across her skin. I may not have hurt her heart or her spirit, but I have wounded her body. And that is something I must atone for.

“Let me tend to you,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her forehead. “A warm wash to soothe your aches, something nourishing to eat and drink.”

She hums in sleepy approval, nuzzling into my throat. “That sounds perfect.”

Carefully, so carefully, I gather her into my arms and rise from the bedding, carrying her like the precious treasure she is. Pieces of the bedding material become displaced and I get a view of the beast I was. I’ve destroyed the sleeping material, evidence of my claws ripping through the fibers clear as they scatter with my movement. And that’s not all.

I swallow hard against the lump in my throat as I take in the destruction surrounding us. It’s not just the bedding that bears the marks of my savagery. The walls are gouged with deep claw marks, the metal table beside the bed is dented and twisted out of shape, as if struck by a powerful blow. Shattered remnants from other fixtures crunch underfoot, and even the flooring bears damage.

Everywhere I look, there is evidence of the violence that transpired here, the uncontrolled fury of my rutting. It’s like a scene from a nightmare, a testament to the monster that lurks beneath my skin. What’s worse? I recall none of this.

Catherine makes a soft sound, drawing my attention back to her. She loops her arms around my neck, resting her head against my shoulder. Carefully adjusting my hold on her, I use my body to shield her from the worst of the destruction as I carry her towards the bathing room.

But I can’t shield myself from the knowledge of what I’ve done. The room looks like a battlefield, like a place where a vicious, brutal struggle took place. I clench my jaw against the wave of self-recrimination that crashes over me. I did this. I let the animal inside me run rampant. I let it loose on the one person in the universe I should protect above all others.

The bathing room, thankfully, seems to have escaped the worst of my rampage. There are a few cracks in the tiled walls, a shattered mirror, but it’s largely intact.

Setting my mate gently on a bench, I move to fill the sunken tub, making sure the water is the perfect temperature before adding soothing oils and salts I’d shamelessly bought and left here sols ago just for this purpose. Just in case. I don’t know whether to thank the old me or be disgusted in my yearning, but I can’t deny that despite my shame, there’s an undercurrent of warmth going through me. I have a mate. I have found my kahl . And within me, a song sings.

The fragrant steam rises, filling the room with a calming scent as I turn to face my female. Moving over to her, I lift her once again, taking care to hold her gently so I don’t upset any of her bruises.

Slowly, I lower her into the warm, scented water. She sighs in bliss as it envelops her, her eyes fluttering shut.

With utmost gentleness, I bathe her, cleansing her skin of the evidence of our joining. I stroke reverent digits over every bruise, every mark, silently vowing to replace each one with the tender brush of my lips as soon as she’s healed.

She is pliant and trusting beneath my hands, a precious gift I will never take for granted. I wash and condition her mane, gently combing out the tangles until it floats on the water like strands of liquid silk.

When she is clean and relaxed, languorous in the steaming water, I leave her for a moment. Hurrying to the sleeping quarters, I strip the bedding material and replace it with fresh clean sheets. Hurrying back to the bathing room, I stop in the doorway.

She looks like a goddess, reclining in the steaming water, her skin flushed pink from the heat, her damp mane clinging to her shoulders and floating around her. Creeping closer, I am silent. I don’t want to wake this delicate human female who has become the center of my universe.

I watch her for a few moments before she stirs, her low lids opening to find me. She smiles again and my core-beat stops. But I am no longer silent. My core-rhythm vibrates with a strength I could have only imagined. Catherine smiles up at me and I know this is all I ever wanted. She is all I ever wanted.

Lifting her out, I wrap her in a clean swathe of fabric, patting her dry. Then I carry her back to our sleeping quarters. I settle her on the fresh bedding and Catherine releases a contented sigh.

The meal preparation area is thankfully untouched. I head to that room and begin preparing something to eat. Retrieving a tray I fill it with fruits, meal squares, fresh, dried meat, and sweet, pulpy juice. Settling beside her, I hand-feed her morsels, coaxing her to eat and drink her fill. She accepts each bite from my claw, taking everything except the dried meat with gusto, her eyes soft and trusting. And as I tend to her, caring for her as she deserves, I feel the tight knot of self-loathing in my chest begin to ease. I cannot change what I’ve done…but I can work every day to be the male she deserves, to cherish and protect her as my kahl .

Satiated at last, she curls into my side with a contented sigh, her eyes already heavy with impending sleep. I gather her close, marveling at the way she fits so perfectly against me. She has always been the other half of me. Always. And in this perfect, tranquil moment, with my love safe in my arms, I finally allow myself to believe that, just maybe, the ancestors knew what they were on about.

That two broken creatures can find completion—and absolution—in each other.

For I have found my kahl. I have found my mate.

I am finally whole.