“I didn’t realize she’d tried contacting you while living as a loner. What did she say?”
“I didn’t read her messages or emails. I figure they were either apologies or a repeat of the text she’d sent just before she left saying that she loved me and always would. In short, I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with her back then.”
Pausing, Tate slid his hand up Havana’s arm. “I made that clear again when she came home and asked for us to have dinner and talk. And earlier today I once again made an effort to drum into her brain that I have no interest in her. I was pretty harsh about it. She was mad as hell, so she might have now decided I’m not worth the bother.”
Thinking on all he’d told her, Havana blew out a breath. The skank sure was a piece of work. “I still can’t quite believe she’s actually pursued you. I mean, I can understand why she’d want you back—you’re hot, you’re a good guy, and you’re fearless enough to get rid of spiders—most girls don’t like doing that.”
Tate’s brows lifted, and the corner of his mouth kicked up.
“But it’s bad enough that she broke her promises and left you for another guy. To then pester you for years rather than let you find peace … that makes it worse. And for her to then expect you to welcome her home and agree to give the relationship another try … Wow. Just wow. How is it that you almost imprinted on this woman?”
“I don’t mean to paint her as a one-dimensional bitch. She’s not a terrible person. She’s a good daughter. A protective older sister. A loyal friend. She helped her grandmother nurse her human grandfather when he developed dementia, which was hard on all of them. Although she was devastated that Koby chose Gita over her, Ashlynn was never anything but kind to her. She even physically defended Gita once from a falcon shifter at a club. Ashlynn wasn’t resentful or bitter toward Koby. She told me she could never begrudge him happiness, even if she had to watch his relationship play out in front of her.”
Tate twined a strand of Havana’s hair around his finger. “But the thing with Ashlynn is that all her bad traits surface whenever she’s not getting her own way. If she wants something, she’ll go for it without even considering all the facts surrounding the situation. She didn’t even give Koby time to grieve Gita before she made a move on him—she just expects to get what she wants. And when she doesn’t get it, she can’t make her peace with the situation and let it go. She becomes more determined than before to have it. If that means betraying or hurting others, she’ll do it.”
“She can only see the end goal.”
He nodded. “Whenever she doesn’t seem to be getting closer to that goal, she turns resentful and defensive. Not because she’s an awful person, but because she hates that she failed. She can’t admit to having a weakness. So she projects all the blame onto others. It’s more of a self-defense mechanism than anything else, but it’s a destructive one, and others get caught up in her drama.”
“Well, she was dumb not to appreciate what she had in you. She should have held tight.”
“I’m glad she didn’t. I’m glad she broke things off, or there’s a chance I wouldn’t have you now.”
Sensing that he meant every word, Havana frowned. “But you went through the whole imprint-threads-nightmare.”
“I’m still glad she fucked up. I’d rather have you. And I do.” As if to punctuate that, he kissed her soft and long and sweet. And then her stomach rumbled. He smiled. “I need to get you fed. You didn’t have lunch, and your body needs to recover from the blood loss.”
She pursed her lips. “I could eat.”
“Then we eat.”
Soon enough, they were dressed and entering the living area. Neither Aspen nor Camden had left. He was sitting on the sofa, glaring at Aspen … who was pointedly ignoring him. Havana rolled her eyes and asked, “Is Bailey home yet?”
Aspen smiled. “Yeah, she’s in her room putting her phone on charge.” Her eyes dropped to Havana’s neck. “My, my, my, that’s quite a bite. I take it you two kissed, made-up, and decided to give ‘more’ a chance.”
“No,” said Tate, sliding an arm around Havana’s shoulders. “More like we kissed, made-up, and agreed that we’re true mates.”
Aspen’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he replied.
Her gaze cut back to Havana’s neck. “But that’s not a claiming bite.”
“I can’t feel the pull of the bond,” grumbled Havana.
“Yet,” said Tate. “I feel it—that’s enough for now.”
Aspen stood. “Well, congrats, guys. I mean, I know you haven’t officially claimed each other. But it’s a big deal that you found each other—that in and of itself is worth a ‘congrats.’”