Free Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel) by Stephanie Rowe

love. That's bravery, Jordyn. That's the kind of thing that should make you hold your head up and be proud."
    Tears threatened in her eyes. "Love isn't good when it's stupid and naive, and results in people dying. If you don't understand that, then you don't understand love at all."
    He snorted. "Sweetheart, I know shit about love. I don't even know what the hell it is, let alone understand it. But I hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes, and I'll never condemn you for that. Ever."
    She bit her lip. "My daughter died at his hands. My best friend had her head torn off her body in front of me because I refused to see the truth about my relationship with Walter. I wanted love more than I was willing to be responsible." She shook her head. "It was unconscionable," she said. "I will have to live with that forever." She stared at their entwined hands, at the way his thumb was still caressing her palm. It felt so good that she wanted to cry. He knew what she was like, and yet he refused to judge her? He was wrong, but at the same time, it was such a gift.
    A gift that would tempt her into making bad decisions again. She didn't want comfort from him. She wanted space. She needed to keep her emotions under control, so that she never hurt anyone else again because she made a choice based on selfish emotions. "Let me go."
    He tightened his grip on her. "If you want me to let go of you, you're going to have to be the one to pull away."
    She swallowed, heat suffusing her cheeks at her inability to make herself pull back from him. "I don't want this. Not with you. Not with anyone."
    He met her gaze, his face so close to hers that she could see the auburn highlights in his whiskers from the dim light of the bar. "Listen to me, Jordyn. I lived with Calydons for a year. I know all about the sheva bond. It's stronger than the most powerful warrior. If you hadn't gone back to Walter, he would have come after you. It was inevitable that it would end the way it did. The bond is too strong, and the sheva destiny always wins. So, ditch the guilt, and instead, be proud of the fact that you did what you had to do and somehow survived after it was all over. Your mate wasn't disciplined enough to stay sane, and he wasn't strong enough not to run around murdering everyone, but you were strong enough to stay alive. He's the one who made the choice to kill, and you were the one who made the choice to defeat a destiny that has claimed thousands of women over the centuries. You impress me."
    Sudden tears filled her eyes, and she pulled her hand away, her heart aching from the kindness of his words. "Don't be nice," she said.
    "Why not? You want me to be an ass? Just because you blame yourself for what happened? Well, too bad. I don't agree, so you're not going to get me to vilify you and string you up by those sexy-as-hell ankles of yours."
    "No, it's not that." She saw the furrow in his brow, and realized he genuinely didn't get it. She sighed, trying to articulate a jumble of emotions so confusing she didn't even understand them herself. "Eric, I choose to love the wrong men. My dad. Walter. It leads to terrible things, and people dying. I don't want to ever get close enough to a man for those things to happen again." She gestured at him. "There's no room for love anymore. Don't you understand?"
    "Love?" He blinked. "I think you're impressive as hell, and I want to get you naked, but I'm not talking about love. I'm sorry if I misled you, but—"
    "I know you're not proclaiming love," she interrupted. How dumb did he think she was? She knew a man like Eric didn't do the love thing, but that didn't change her reaction to him. "But you tempt me," she said. "I don't know what it is about you, but you appeal to me on a thousand different levels. I don't want to be tempted. I want to be safe and alone. I want all the men in my life to be just friends. But you—" She gestured at his chest, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. "You're so