Kissed by Krista Street

Chapter 14

~ AVERY ~

By the time everyone’s amazement had died down over the fact that I’d been right—that a living, breathing goddess currently lay in a bed on the healing center’s ward—Wes whipped into action.

Twenty-four-seven security was placed on the room, and half a dozen of the SF’s top guards would be on duty at all times. Now that the SF believed me about her, they weren’t taking any chances, even if their perimeter wards were fail-safe.

Because it wasn’t just me Lord Godasara would be after now. It would be Verasellee too.

An hour later, all security measures were activated, so I finally felt comfortable leaving the goddess. Eliza had stayed to keep me company, and of course, Wyatt hadn’t budged from my side.

Eliza pulled me into an unexpected hug as she stood to leave. “It’s most wonderful to see you again. We shall have to visit soon.”

I hugged her back, her hair tickling my cheek. “I’d like that. Me, you, and Charlotte should all get together.”

“We will.” She said her goodbye, and I waved farewell.

I was sad to see her go, because it’d felt good to have someone around who understood as innately as I did who lay on the healing center’s bed. That and Eliza provoked good feelings in me, similar to how Charlotte had.

I frowned. Even though I didn’t specifically remember them, it was almost as though a part of me recognized them. Just like a part of me had recognized something in Wyatt even though I didn’t remember our history either.

When the room finally cleared, minus the guards, some of the adrenaline I’d been running on faded. I leaned against the wall. Bone-deep weariness seeped through me. I brought a hand to my forehead. Damn. I was so tired.

“We should turn in. It’s getting late,” Wyatt said gruffly.

I jolted upright, his abrupt demand erasing all of the fuzzy feelings that Eliza’s presence had evoked. “Excuse me?”

A look of confusion fell over his face. “I said it’s getting late. I’m taking you back to my apartment, so you can sleep and get something to eat.” His brow furrowed more. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you tired?”

I crossed my arms, my frown returning. “Yes, but don’t I have my own apartment here? Can’t I go back there?”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. “You used to, but not anymore. Your new recruit program is over, which means that your former apartment is now being lived in by other new recruits.”

“Oh.” My frown deepened. I hadn’t realized that. But I figured there had to be guest quarters somewhere on the grounds. I was about to ask if I could go there, but Wyatt continued.

“Furthermore, as was the case at Shrouding Estate, it’s my job to ensure your safety, so you’ll be staying with me.” He watched me intently, probably waiting for me to fight back as I had when he’d initially demanded it, but as irritating as it was, I also knew there was no point fighting.

I wouldn’t win, just like I hadn’t won when the battle hit the estate, which was why I’d ended up in the Whimsical Room.

A snag of bitterness filled my chest. He was so damned authoritative, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was still majorly pissed at him. If he hadn’t locked me away in that damned room, it was possible I never would have been abducted, abused, and nearly killed.

I was mad at him for that, damned mad, even though the abduction had ultimately led me to the goddess.

Finding Verasellee was the only good thing that had come out of it. Well, that and I’d killed all of the warlocks . . .

Still, what was going to happen when there was another fight between us? Because I had no doubt there would be. So what then? Would he still be the alpha in all situations? Would he keep demanding that I obeyed him?

Wyatt’s expression turned more wary the longer I looked up at him without saying anything.

“Avery?” he finally said, breaking the silence.

I tightened my arms across my chest. “So is this like the estate then? I have no say in anything?”

“It’s for your safety.”

I rolled my eyes clear to the top of my head. “Right. Everything is for my safety. Of course, how could I forget?”

“Is that what all of this is about?” he asked gently.

I didn’t fully understand what he was asking, but I was in no mood for a lengthy discussion, so I didn’t reply. Besides, as much as it irked me, he was right. I was tired and hungry. So I merely gave a tight smile and waved toward the door. “Lead the way, Commander. I’ll follow you.”

His eyes narrowed, but he turned toward the door without commenting further.

I followed him down the hall. On our way out of the healing center, we passed the station the witches sat at. One of them, a pretty redhead watched Wyatt from beneath her lashes. When our gazes met, envy filled her expression, and with a start I realized she was envious that I was leaving with Wyatt.

My stomach tightened, and I glanced over at the commander.

Wyatt strode beside me, his large presence dominating the hall. The width of his shoulders stretched his shirt, the cut of his jaw made him sexy in a deadly sort of way, and the sheer physical strength of him would make any female look twice.

Because dammit, he was hot. Damn hot. Even I could admit that despite being pissed at him.

When we neared the door, I glanced over my shoulder.

The redhead snatched her gaze away.

So she had been watching him.

A pang of jealousy flowed hotly through me, which made no sense whatsoever. Wasn’t I mad at Wyatt and unsure if I wanted to be with him long-term? Besides, Wyatt believed I was his mate, therefore he would be faithful to me. Right?

He’d said as much, but that didn’t mean the redhead hadn’t been with him. Had they ever dated? Or hooked up? Had he once dated her and me at the same time? I still didn’t fully know what had caused such a rift between us. Was that it?

An unbidden image scorched my mind. It was of the redhead and Wyatt wrapped up in one another’s arms, her head lolling back, her eyes closed, as he did all of the delicious things to her that he’d done to me.

Intense rage raced through me, nearly making me stumble.

Avery, WTF!

But I couldn’t stop myself from thinking of the two of them together, or having such an intense reaction.

Which only made how I was feeling worse, because it reinforced the fact that Wyatt was still a stranger to me since I couldn’t remember our history, but he was also a stranger who I had a damned fucking mate bond with, so my body was literally crazy for him.

A dark storm cloud drifted through my thoughts. With each step I took, energy crackled inside me. It didn’t help that I was so tired. I’d barely slept while trapped in the caves and using so much of the goddess’s power had zapped me of all of my strength, so much so that I’d passed out.

I was crabby, irritable, and looking for a fight. Despite knowing all of that, it didn’t stop the anger building inside me.

By the time we reached the exterior doors on the first floor, I wouldn’t have been surprised if my eyes were glowing violet.

Wyatt pushed open the door, then held it for me. He tracked my every move, that wary and confused expression still in place. With curled fingers, he held the door rigidly. I was probably wrong, but I could have sworn he was leaving dents in the metal.

Keeping my gaze down, I ducked past him, careful not to let our bodies touch.

He sucked in a breath, and the door banged closed when he finally let it go.

Once on the sidewalk, neither of us said a thing as he led the way to his barracks, but I continually glanced around, searching for something, anything that felt or looked familiar.

But the fields that surrounded us, the dark rolling hills in the distance, and the huge concrete buildings that sprawled everywhere, looked as foreign to me as Mars.

“We had our first date right over there,” Wyatt said, pointing to one of the fields. “We ate a sponge cake you baked while you told me about Greek philosophers.”

I frowned. Greek philosophers? If I really tried, I could probably wrack my brain and come up with a few Greek philosophers’ names, since I seemed to know about things just nothing about me. But why would I have mentioned Greek philosophers?

“I’ll have to take your word on that,” I replied tersely.

He sighed again, the sound heavy, and I could have sworn that he was about to pinch the bridge of his nose but stopped himself.

We carried on down the sidewalk until we reached the last building. “This is me.”

He scanned us in, then opened the door. I stepped inside, searching the entryway of his building for anything that tickled a memory or a sense of déjà vu.

But as was becoming the norm—nope, nada.

“Bavar’s apartment is there.” Wyatt pointed to the first door on the right. “If he convinces you to make him more cookies, which he inevitably will, that’s where you can drop them off.”

“Did I drop off a lot of baked items to him?”

“Not as many as I’m sure he would have liked.”

His tone was teasing, and given the hopeful look in his eyes, I guessed he was waiting for a comeback quip from me, but I merely quirked an eyebrow. “And you? Did I drop off cookies at your door too?”

A veiled look descended over his features. He remained silent, and I didn’t think he was going to answer me, but then he said, “You tried to once, but I didn’t accept them.”

It felt as if the wind got punched out of me. Why? What had happened between us to make him reject me?

But that was a loaded question that I didn’t have the energy for, so I settled with, “Oh. I’m guessing that had to do with whatever problems we had?”

“It did.” He waved toward the stairs. “I’m on the top floor.”

We trudged up the stairway, then down a hall. He stopped at the second door on the left and placed his finger pad against a holographic lock. His door clicked open, and I hesitantly followed him inside.

He flipped a wall switch, and standing lamps clicked on. Soft light bathed his apartment in a muted glow. His home was small and clean. On the left, a counter with stools overlooked an open kitchen. The kitchen wasn’t big, but it held all of the necessities. For the most part, it looked like a normal kitchen devoid of any magical devices.

The rest of his apartment had a masculine feel. The entire color scheme was grays and dark greens. On the right, a living room held a leather couch and a recliner—both steel-gray. Several metal end tables sported lamps but no personal items. Only one picture was hung on the wall, a beautiful mountainous landscape of forested hills covered in snow.

“Not many knickknacks,” I commented.

He kicked his shoes off. “I don’t really like stuff, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded absentmindedly. I searched for photos and spotted a few on a table near the TV. After slipping my shoes off, I went to them.

“Is this your family?” The photo showed him with two other men, a young woman, and a middle-aged couple. They all had similar colored hair and builds.

I felt him approach me from behind. It was as though the energy in the room shifted to accommodate his immense magic. “It is. Those are my brothers Lance and William, my dad, Walter—the Alpha of the British Columbia pack—my mom, Lisa, and my sister Lassa. You’ve met all of them.”

My fingers tightened around the frame. So this was Lassa, the woman Nicholas had told me about in the Whimsical Room. And I’d met these people. Just like I’d ‘met’ my parents, Eliza, Charlotte, Wes, Wyatt, and probably dozens of others that I’d passed in the hallways of the SF and didn’t recognize.

Despite knowing that my memory loss wasn’t my fault, it didn’t stop the growing frustration that all of this was embarrassing. It made me feel like a forgetful child, and hearing that everyone in his family were people I’d once met and interacted with made that twisting sensation start in my stomach again. Why couldn’t any of this be easy? Why?

I hastily set the photo down. “Do you mind if I take a shower and go to bed?”

He stilled, his presence still looming behind me. “If that’s what you want. Or I could make you something to eat while you’re showering. I know you’re hungry.”

My stomach rumbled again as if on cue. “Yeah, fine, that works too.” I knew my words were short, but I couldn’t help it.

He slammed a hand through his hair when I turned to face him, and the energy off him soared. “I’ll grab you a towel. Your belongings should be in my room. Wes moved all of your stuff out of your old apartment when you finished training and stored it here. The clothing that survived the battle at the estate was also shipped here, so you should have plenty to choose from.”

“Oh,” I replied in surprise. They’d thought of everything, which was probably good. Funny how I hadn’t even thought about not having a toothbrush. All I’d been thinking about was escaping this suffocating feeling of not remembering anything or anyone. It was doing my head in.

He remained a yard away, his expression impossible to read, but the weight of his gaze let me know he was anything but calm. “Do you like sandwiches?”

Gods. This was intense.

But then I realized that he was asking me about food. “You don’t know if I like them?”

He tugged a hand through his hair again. “Honestly, no, I’m not sure.”

“Yet we were together as a couple?” The worry in his eyes increased at my question, and he opened his mouth to reply, but since I was in no mood to dive into that subject either, I added, “Sure, whatever you want to make is fine. I’m not picky.” At least, I didn’t think I was. “Oh, but no carrots. My mom was right about that one.”

I darted away before our awkward conversation could get any worse.

Since his apartment was small, it wasn’t hard to find the bathroom and his bedroom. They were literally the only two rooms down the short hall.

I didn’t linger in his room. The king-sized bed dominated the small space and reminded me of the nights we’d shared at Shrouding Estate, but that was then and this was now. At that time, he’d literally been a stranger to me that my body craved.

Now, I was beginning to get to know him and I wasn’t so sure about us being a couple. Yes, I enjoyed sleeping with him, really enjoyed it. But since the Whimsical Room, I’d seen a side of him that I hadn’t during our hot encounters at the estate. He was controlling. Demanding. And often spoke over my wishes.

Shaking my head, I grabbed a pair of cotton pajama pants and a T-shirt out of one of the boxes piled by the wall. Neither were sexy, which was exactly what I wanted. The last thing I needed was for Wyatt to use his sex-mojo on me and have me panting like a bitch in heat beneath him.

After grabbing what I needed, including toiletries, which surprise surprise, I didn’t recognize either—but figured they were mine since they were feminine products—I ducked into the shower and made quick work of it.

I tried not to think about the intimacy of showering in Wyatt’s bathroom by ignoring the brand of shampoo he used and how he liked for his toilet paper to hang over in front of the roll and not behind, but it was impossible not to notice some of the details.

Like the fact that he kept his towels folded on the rack versus left on the floor, and how his trash can was lined with a plastic bag versus just the bare can. Or how his razor and extra blades were stacked neatly on the counter’s corner.

So I learned something else about him. He liked cleanliness and tidiness.

But just as quickly as that thought came, so did a heady dousing of frustration. Was that because the SF required order and discipline, or was that truly how Wyatt was?

I didn’t know.

Because I didn’t know him.

Ugh.

Once dressed, I combed through my damp hair and padded back to the kitchen. Gods, I was tired, and my brain was asking too many questions again.

Wyatt stood at the kitchen counter, piling meat and cheese onto bread slathered with mayo. He glanced up, his gaze raking up and down my body. A glow lit his irises.

I wondered what he’d found so appealing. Nothing about how I looked screamed sex kitten.

Maybe it was the intimacy of hanging out with me in my pajamas that he liked?

But then I reminded myself that he’d seen me before and after showers at Shrouding Estate so this was nothing new. And there was nothing that intimate about this. For goodness’ sake, I was wearing a baggy T-shirt and cotton pants—not exactly lingerie—but one would never have guessed it given the frequent side-eyes Wyatt was sending my way.

He picked up two plates loaded with food. “The sandwiches are ready.”

“Okay. Thanks.” With stiff movements, I walked to the counter and pulled out a barstool.

Wyatt came around the corner and joined me, pulling out the stool at my side.

I tried not to shift when our arms brushed, but as had been the case every other time we’d had physical contact, a bolt of pleasure shot up my limbs and my breath quickened.

Dammit! Why do I have to be so attracted to him?

I dug into the sandwich, focusing on eating it quickly and getting to bed pronto. Given the constant glances Wyatt gave me as I shoveled food into my mouth, I had a feeling he’d noticed.

Once finished, he took the dishes to the sink. “Should we go to bed?”

My mouth went dry. Wait, we? He said we.

“What?” I somehow managed.

He brought a washcloth over and cleaned up the crumbs from the counter, and my traitorous eyes watched his large hand and muscled forearm swipe back and forth across the surface. Seriously, how could that be sexy? But it was.

“You look tired, and I imagine you didn’t sleep much after he”—his jaw locked—“after Lord Godasara took you, so I figured you’d want to go to bed now.”

“Together?”

His movements stopped. That glow lit his eyes again, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yeah, I’d assumed together.”

Since he didn’t offer to sleep on the floor, and since this wasn’t my apartment, I replied, “I’ll stay on the couch.”

A heavy scowl formed on his face. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“Watch me.”

“Avery.” He sighed and tore a hand through his hair. A moment passed. And then another. The entire time his gaze stayed locked on mine, and even though his expression had smoothed, his emerald eyes held a stormy torrent.

With a muscle still ticking in his jaw, he straightened, the dish rag in his hand forgotten. “I’ll sleep on the couch if that makes you more comfortable.” Even though he said it in an even tone, the glow around his eyes increased.

I huffed. “Well, yeah, actually that would make me more comfortable, because you know, I didn’t realize we were officially a couple now who slept together every night.”

Wyatt picked up the dish rag and folded it slowly, his movements precise. “We certainly seemed like a couple back at Shrouding Estate.”

“Why? Because we fucked a few times?”

He threw the dish rag in the sink. So much for folding it.

“Is that what it was to you? Just fucking?”

“Well, yeah, isn’t that exactly what it was? That’s usually what it can be classified as when two people sleep together who don’t really know each other. Or are we officially committed now?”

His lips thinned more, but I didn’t stop.

“You know, silly me, but speaking of committed relationships, I thought equality existed between well-suited couples. But as I’ve come to learn with you, equality doesn’t exist. You’re the alpha, I’m your supposed mate, therefore I do as I’m told. Right? Isn’t that why I was banished to the Whimsical Room in which I was drugged and then abducted? Poor helpless me. Good thing I have someone big and strong like you to protect me. Oh no wait, you didn’t, because I was abducted.”

His lips parted, and pain shot through his eyes. “Is that what this is all about? The fact that I didn’t protect you? That I wanted you to go to that room in the hope you’d be safer?”

My stomach quivered. I knew he’d tried to prevent my abduction. I knew it haunted him that I’d been taken. And despite what he’d just said, he had protected me. Because of him, the ritual had been stopped. If he hadn’t intercepted, I’d be dead at this very moment.

But he’d still taken away my choice when the battle hit Shrouding Estate. He’d robbed me of it by guilt-tripping me into doing what he thought was best.

And it hadn’t been best.

Still, the pained looked in his eyes was making me feel like the biggest bitch.

I looked down, his guilt eating away at me. “I . . . uh . . . I’m going to bed.” I hopped off the stool and rushed to his bedroom.

As angry as I was with him, I still felt awful for delivering such a low blow. Inside his dark room, I made myself grab one of the pillows off the bed along with a blanket and place them outside in the hallway.

Guilt still ate at me, but I didn’t hear Wyatt approaching, so maybe it was for the best that we both went to bed. Separately.

So with that, I closed the door.