Page 89 of Knight’s Dominion

“Vince eventually found me on the street, hanging around the club, and offered me a job cleaning. He looked after me, gave me a place to live, protected me."

His thigh muscles tightened and bunched, wanting to launch himself out of bed and pull her into his arms.

"That's why I hated you. I blamed you for their deaths. In my mind, it was your fault that I had no one left." She shook her head. “And I stayed angry at you, even when I could see you cared for us demi. When I saw you put everything on the line every time you fought, because I didn’t want to believe it. Believing it would mean letting some of my anger go…letting them go. And I…I didn’t want to be angry at my dad. I didn’t want to blame him—hate him for taking everything from me.” She clenched her teeth.

He moved then, couldn't stay away another second and strode to her, crouching in front of her chair. "I'm sorry, angel. I’m so fucking sorry.” What else could he say?

She was shaking her head. “But it wasn’t him, either. My dad loved us. Did the best he could. And you’re right, I’ve been hostile toward you because I used you to feed the rage in me. Directing that anger at you was easier than the truth. But I know it wasn't your fault, Chaos, it wasn't the knights that failed my family.” Her gaze lifted to his, hollow, broken. “It was me. I wasn't strong enough. If I'd been strong enough, if I’d practiced more, like they were always nagging me to... If I’d been able to block us both, my parents would still be here. Curtis would still be here.”

"No." Grace jolted at his sharp tone, but he couldn't contain it. Now he understood why she fought so hard, why she was so single-minded when it came to killing demons. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing. Baby, you were a kid. Too young and inexperienced to hold that kind of block. Neither you nor your parents could have anticipated what would happen that day. The blame sits squarely on the demons who killed them. No one else.” He took her face in his hands and held her haunted gaze. “What happened was not your fault, do you hear me?”

A small shaky smile tugged her lips. “So damn bossy.”

Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his fingers, and he brushed away the single tear that streaked down her cheek. "You should listen to me more. I'm never wrong."

"Uh-huh. And modest, too.”

She didn’t believe that it wasn’t her fault, not yet, but he wouldn’t give up until she did. He brushed his thumb across her lips but resisted leaning in and kissing her. “So you don't hate me anymore?"

“I don't hate you anymore.” Her grin turned wicked, though still wobbly. "But you're still a pain in the ass."

He couldn't help it, couldn’t resist another moment.

He leaned in and kissed her.

CHAPTER 25

Grace woke surrounded by Chaos, his massive arms bracketed her body, holding her tight to his chest like he was afraid she'd run away in the night.

He’d taken her to the compound after they’d spent most of the night hunting the beast. And as soon as they walked through the door to his apartment, they had torn off each other’s clothes and fucked on the floor before finally making it to the bed.

The intensity of it scared her. But she couldn’t stop it. She was a Chaos addict.

The male had gotten under her skin; there was no denying it anymore.

She snuggled into his warmth and shivered, remembering how Chaos had asked her with quiet intensity why she hated him. Jesus. She'd spilled her guts, had told him all her deepest, darkest secrets. Had spoken her fears, her true ones that had lived deep inside her for so long. Why had she done that? Shared with him things she'd never told anyone, not even Vince.

He hadn't looked at her like the coward she'd always believed herself to be, running to save herself when her family had been slaughtered. No, he'd comforted her, and after he'd wiped her tears, he'd carried her back to bed and taken her again, hard and demanding. His dark eyes had been locked on hers the whole time, like he was trying to will her to believe that it hadn’t been her fault.

Chaos hadn’t treated her like she was some fragile female whose emotions made her weak. He treated her like an equal.

Later, she'd woken alone, his scent on her sheets, but no sign of the male himself. She’d hated it.

Not this morning, though. This morning she was in his bed, and he seemed reluctant to let her go.

Goose bumps prickled over her body despite the heat radiating from his skin. It was too much. He was too much. Everything about him overwhelmed her, overpowered her emotions.

He’d made it clear he hadn’t liked her dancing in front of a crowd when she’d performed for him. The possessive mated male inside him refused to share her with anyone else, not that she wanted anyone else right now. But she was terrified that if she let him have his way, if she let him take parts of her little by little, there’d be nothing left.

She'd lose herself. She’d become Chaos’s mate. There would be no more Grace Paten. Before long he’d ask her to stop working at the club. How long before he wanted her to stop fighting?

Chaos made a rough sound and his hold on her tightened, his warm, bare skin pressed against hers, one heavy thigh shoved between hers.

She squeezed her lids shut.

Be strong. You have to be strong.

He pressed his hot lips against her ear. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"