GIFTED RILEY by Lacy Mierr

Chapter 22: Desire and Decorum

*Riley*

Something was wrong with Nicolas. It wasn’t just whatever it was that was going on. It was something more. He was usually great at hiding. his emotions, but he was visibly struggling to restrain himself, and it was showing

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

His face stretched into a smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Yes, Riles. Everything is fine.”

I studied him, even the fake smile was cracking at the corners of his lips. Nicolas was upset, and even while he was upset, he wasn’t putting his feelings first, he was putting mine first. He was trying so hard to reassure me that everything was okay even when he was so obviously upset.

He needs me. But he doesn’t trust me enough to let himself need me. Regardless, I have to be there for him.

I took a brave step forward, limiting the distance between us, trying to tell him with my body that I wasn’t afraid of him, that I trusted him and he could trust me too.

Chapter 22. Desire and Pecolum

“I’ve never felt like I belong here,” I began, closing the distance even more. “Even though I came to this palace as your chosen mate, I didn’t feel like I belonged with the rest of the pack members.”

“Riley…” he started to protest, but I placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

“I can’t mindlink with the others, which is a very sharp reminder that I’ m not a part of your pack.”

“You’re my mate, you’re not just a member, you’re at the center of it all.”

I shake my head. “I’m not, and I know it. I don’t know things everyone knows about, no one tells me anything, and that feels awful. I don’t just want to be your mate, I want to be your partner, a member of this pack, I want to learn everything about your people.”

I stop to take a breath, softening my tone. “I want to help you, I can help you if you’ll let me in. So, what’s going on?”

I waited for him to answer, hoping that as I’ve bared my soul to him, he would do the same. But he was silent, his expression unreadable as he watched me intensely. But then, his gaze softened, meeting mine, and I could finally see it. Trust.

I saw his arms reaching out to me, and I welcomed it. He wrapped arms around me tightly, his scent surrounding me. I clung to him, lending him whatever strength I had. He leaned his head against the

Chapter 22 Desire and Decorum

crook of my neck, sighing, as if with that singular action, he had released the weight on his shoulders.

I was at least glad I could make his burden lighter.

But then, his shoulders began to shake. And then I felt it, the wetness. against my shoulder. I stiffened for a moment, surprised that the Lycan King would cry, and in front of me. But, he was one person after all, and sometimes, that responsibility, being in charge of hundreds of people was too much for one to bear.

In an effort to offer him comfort, I stroked his hair, saying nothing. I just held him and let him pour out his frustrations on my shoulder.

We stayed that way for a while, me running my hand through his hair, and him holding on to me like his life depended on it.

Finally, a choked so b escaped his lips. “I’m a terrible King,” he rasped, the words raw and heavy.

Confusion furrowed my brow. “What are you talking about?” I asked gently.

“How can I call myself a King when I can’t even protect my own people? Then of what use am I?”

I couldn’t believe my cars. “Don’t say that Nicolas. You’re doing the best you can.”

Chapter 22 Desire and Decorum

“You only say that because you don’t know what has happened. If you knew…”

“Then tell me… help me understand.”

He hesitated, a muscle flickering in his jaw. I worried I’d pushed too far, that he’d retreat back into his shell. Then, with a ragged sigh, he ran a hand through his hair.

“The hunters,” he began, voice low and dangerous. “The attacks haven’t stopped. They’ve gotten bolder, more frequent. And…” he choked on the next words, “they killed two of my best warriors.”

My breath hitched. “What?” I whispered, the word barely escaping my lips.

“In a forest right under my nose,” he growled, frustration and self- loathing lacing his voice. “Under my very f**g no**se, and I had no damn idea.”

It all made sense now. The hunters. Their attack on me wasn’t random after all, it was deliberate and targeted.

“It wasn’t your fault, Nicolas,” I insisted, my voice firm. “You can’t shoulder all the burdens of the pack alone. You have to understand that.”

Chapter 22 Desire and Decora

His jaw clenched, the self-loathing in his eyes obvious. “I should’ve done more,” he rasped, the words laced with despair. “They were under my protection. I should’ve been able to…”

I didn’t let him finish the impossible sentence. Pulling him back into my embrace, I held him tight, whispering soothing sounds against his ear. When he finally pulled away, a shaky breath escaping his lips, my hand instinctively reached out. It landed on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that glistened in the dim light.

He froze at my touch, his eyes widening in surprise. Then, slowly, like a man awakening from a dream, he met my gaze and grabbed the hand that was on his face, holding it against his chest.

I could see it in his eyes. Whatever wall he had up before was completely down now and I could see everything in his eyes.

He wanted me. He wanted me badly.

I could see the struggle in his eyes. I wanted to make the decision for him, because damn it, I wanted him too. I was too frustrated to wait for

him to come to me.

My body moved of its own accord, inching closer to him. My breath hitched in anticipation of what was about to happen. My lips itching, my tongue dancing, imagining what he would taste like.

The hand that was wrapped around my wrist, pulled me closer, moving to my chin.

“Riles?” he asked. But as he asked for permission, his eyes were on my lips not on my eyes.

Damn it all. I wouldn’t wait any longer. With a surge of defiant boldness, I rose on the balls of my feet and met him halfway. The moment our lips touched, any semblance of composure he might have clung to shattered.

A feral growl escaped his throat as he crushed me against him, his hand moved to my waist, abandoning all pretense of restraint. It dug into my flesh, pulling me to him as his other hand tangled in my hair, tilting my head for a deeper kiss.

moan

I met his fierce hunger with a passion equal to his own. Every that escaped my lips fueled the fire, intoxicating me with a heady mix of desire and the intense pull of our mate bond.

I arched against him, moaning into his mouth when his tongue slid into

mine.

The world around us melted away, leaving only the taste of him, the feel of him, the intoxicating rhythm of our bodies pressed together.

I was intoxicated, drunk, and I didn’t want him to ever stop kissing me.