Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The werewolf actually thought he could make this better. Evie didn't know whether to laugh or cry harder.

Now that everything had fallen into place, it was all falling into pieces. She wanted to go back to not knowing. Believing the lie was better than knowing the truth.

"You can't make this better. This is your fault. Gods, my head feels like it's on fire."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not as much as you have." He sucked in a breath at that. Truthfully, the vampires hadn't laid a finger on her. One grabbed her arm but that was it. For now, she wanted him to suffer as much as she had. To question everything.

She wanted him to feel everything she was feeling but worse.

He'd put her through worse than everyone else had.

He'd hurt her more.

Because- damnit- Evie was starting to feel things for him.

"And yes, for your information. I can't think of a fate worse than being mated to you."

Now he glared at her. "You weren't saying that when I had you bent over the car."

"That was different."

"How was it, witch? From where I was standing, you wanted me as much as I wanted you. As much as I still fucking want you. For fuck's sake. Half an hour ago, you were telling me how much you desire me."

"If I'd have known the truth at the time—"

"What difference would it have made? Attraction's not something you can turn off, Evie. You still would've wanted me. Not half as much as I want you. You'll never want me as much as I want you." He stabbed his fingers through his hair. "And you're not perfect either, witch. You come with your downfalls."

"Are you being serious right now?"

He scraped his hand across his face and growled. "No. I'm not. You are perfect, damn it. Gods, you're perfect for me."

She saw a hesitation in his features and nodded in bitter understanding. "I'd be perfect if only..." He didn't have to say it. Again, she already knew. "If only I weren't a witch."

"I can live with that Evie. I don't care what you are. Gods, I can, it's just—"

She tuned him out.

He'd lied to her. He wouldn't be the first. She'd had human boyfriends who'd lied. It was always the men who did it. They lied. When the truth came out, they acted like they were entitled to an explanation.

What would it take for just one of them to take their hat off and admit that they were wrong and unfair and ask for her forgiveness?

Lorcan would never grovel. He was the King. As a King, he was entitled to her forgiveness. Hell! Because he was a King, there was nothing to forgive. He could do whatever the fuck he pleased and never have to worry about the consequences.

Just once, she wanted to find one of the good ones. Was that such a huge thing to ask for?

"Do you regret any of the lies you've told me?" She demanded, turning on him. She looked wild. Ha! As if she cared what she looked like. He looked worse. "No bullshit. The truth."

"Some of it."

"But not all of it?" He looked away. "At least tell me you regret the biggest lie."

The biggest lie was the mate lie and—he didn't regret it. This was why. If he could've just got her across the portal and to his castle, he could've controlled this anger.