"It's strange," she murmured, her voice so quiet it didn't echo off the vaulted ceiling. "This is pretty much the only place I feel safe."
She tipped her head back to look at me, her expression wry. "You must have some kind of secret magic."
What I had was a mate bond I was keeping secret.
"What?" she asked, her smile falling.
Shit, was it written all over my face?
Luna drew back, a furrow between her dark brows. "I was joking; I don't think you actually have magic."
I shook my head. I didn't want her to find out, and didn't want to add extra pressure to her shoulders when she was already so stressed. But another part of me desperately wanted to tell her. I was proud to be her mate, and keeping it secret felt like shame.
I swallowed. "It's nothing."
Now her frown deepened and she took a step away from me. "Don't lie to me, Priest. You're not very good at it."
Yeah, I knew that. It was why I preferred the truth; I was a shit liar, and it left a sickly taste in my mouth. I couldn't do it now, either, couldn't pretend or joke to misdirect her attention. She'd asked me straight, so I had to tell the truth and hope … fuck, I had to hope it didn't change anything between us.
"If I tell you, you might stop coming to the chapel," I murmured, watching her withdraw into herself—arms crossed over her chest, her lips in a flat line, her brown eyes dull.
"Just tell me," she sighed, shaking her dark head. "I don't like secrets."
I licked my lips, my mouth dry, and tried to catch her gaze, but she evaded eye contact.
"You're my mate," I said in a whisper. "But I—I don't expect anything, definitely not after what you've been through. Just don't stop coming to the chapel when it gives you comfort.Please."
Luna laughed, a soft bubble of sound that reached into my chest and crushed my heart. "Betas don't get bonds. You're wrong, Priest."
"They don't get themoften," I agreed. "But it's not unheard of. And there's no denying it, Luna, at least not for me. I can feel you sometimes—"
"Okay, stop there," she interrupted, throwing up her hand as if I was going to attack her.
I took several steps back, giving her space. My stomach roiled at the mere thought of hurting her.
"So this—" She waved a hand at me, at the chapel. "All this time, you've only been kind to me because I'm your mate." She laughed again, and there was no way I’d ever describe this sharp slash of sound asbubbling. "I thought you were beingnice, a good vicar."
"I was," I rushed out, aching and sick. "Iam. But it's my instinct to care for you, Luna."
"Instinct," she hissed, shoving her feet into the shoes she'd discarded beneath the pew. "Instinct got me into this place. Those alphas didn't ignore theirinstinct, and nowthis?"
She swallowed, shaking her head—in anger. Oh fuck, she was angry.
"I thought you were genuine," she said—spat. Her whole body vibrated with anger and another emotion I couldn't place. The bond writhed like a stormy ocean, slamming into my ribs. "I thought you were a good guy. Wait—this is why you sent the water and the chocolate, isn't it? Because you'remy mate."
I nodded, twisting my fingers in front of me and gripping hard. I didn't know what to say, what to do. She was furious, and of all the responses I hadn't expected this. I thought she might be afraid, or intimidated, or even relieved. She didn't have to shoulder her pain alone; I'd be with her.
But she resented the bond.
A part of me shrivelled up and howled in pain.
"Luna," I tried, but she shoved past me and up the aisle. "I just—you—you're recovering from a brutal assault. Forcing a bond on you is theworstthing I could have done."
She laughed, bitter and low, and turned when she reached the door. "No, Priest. Lying is the worst thing you could have done."
"I never—everything I told you was true.Everything.You're my mate, but I still lost my niece, and everything I do is still because of her, because I can't stand the idea of someone else taking their life in the same way—"
"Save it," Luna snapped. "Dress it up however you want, you still lied. I trusted you, and you fucking lied."