The Mates of Monsters

Chapter 46

"What did you do with the body," I ask, my back to my mate, the spray of the shower falling down on us like rain.

"Aurora asked us to dispose of it," David says, rubbing up and down my shoulders.

"How?"

He sighs. "We burned it."

"I'm starting to understand you were gone for so long."

He leaves a kiss on my nape, and I turn to face him. "I have to speak with her after this. Tarlo is bringing her to the house, and you're welcome to sit in on our discussion. Maybe she'd appreciate your presence. You're her friend, after all."

"How much did she see of it?"

"Nothing. She stayed in their guest house until it was over. I saw her, told her what had happened, and she thanked me for telling her myself. She didn't seem upset. She didn't seem relieved. So I left to take care of the body and clean myself up."

He caresses my face, water cascading through his hair, over his healing skin. Through the night his wounds have made significant progress, and I wonder how that sort of energy feels when it's growing in my belly. "All of this is just..." my voice dies with my desire to understand it all. "I just want it to be over."

"It will be. We'll talk to Aurora about the logistics, and then we won't have to think about it until the next Union meeting months from now."

I nod. "And you—you'll be okay?"

David smooths back my wet hair. "As long as I have you, I'll always be."

"How did you do it—without breaking, I mean."

"I had to protect you," he mutters, busy as he runs his hands down my sides, as he takes in the landscape of my body for the hundredth time. "Aurora needed to get away. He had nothing but bad intentions for the future of the Union and his pack. But I didn't want to kill him. I never want to kill anyone, Brigette."

"You have—before Nicodra."

His eyes return to mine. "Yes. I have."

"Who?"

"I don't know their names; they were rogues." He asks, "Does that bother you?"

"That you've killed before?" I shake my head and say, "No."

"It's something I live with. Nicodra, rogues—I'll live with it for the rest of my life, but I sleep at night knowing my back was to the wall. I did it for the pack, for you, and I would do it again."

Aurora arrives with Tarlo not even an hour later. We end our shower and make ourselves decent to see them in the sitting room. When we enter, Aurora's hands are on her stomach, and she stares at the coffee table in deep thought. Tarlo is stood and is pacing about, casual and not as transformed by the events of last night as the rest of us—surely not the woman who sits behind him, mateless and with child.

"Hey," I say cautiously. "How are you?"

She glances at me as if I've drawn her from hypnosis. "I'm good," she clarifies too quickly. "I'm doing well."

"I'm sorry for, you know, everything."

"Don't be. I got what I wanted, right?"

"Still," I say, "it can't be easy, and I'm here for you. Anything you need, Aurora, I'm here."

She shrugs. "My mate is dead. What I need is a heart transplant."

I swallow and take my seat, but David perches himself on the coffee table in front of her, taking her hand between his, expressing his apologies. Before he can say it again, Aurora pats her free hand on the clump of their others and says, "There's no need, Alpha. He got what he asked for."