Knight-in-Arms - Trust: (BWWM Interracial Paranormal Shifter Romance Part Two) by Athena Dore Page B

next to her on the bedside table. Bad idea. Her legs were too weak to sustain her and her head exploded with the heightened intensity of the headache. She stumbled slightly, but was determined to hold her ground.
     
    Seeing she was about to fall, Xavier took a few steps closer.
     
    “No,” she commanded, “You…you stay there”.
     
    “Rochelle…”
     
    “Stay away from me, you monster!”
     
    She thought she saw him flinch at her last word but she wasn’t sure; she wasn’t sure of anything except that the jug suddenly felt as heavy as lead and she couldn’t hold it any longer. Just as it rolled from her fingers, spilt water seeping into the thick cream carpet, her legs finally collapsed. She was falling…falling… However, Xavier’s strong arms caught her, encircling her waist. She was pressed against the warmth of his chest. She felt safe and secure – something she had been unable to feel since waking up. She basked in the feeling for a fraction of a second but images of that night flashed before her, bringing memories of what he was and what he had done. She tensed in his arms and tried to pull away but he refused to let go. Instead, he scooped her up and carried her kicking and protesting to the bed.
     
    “Don’t touch me!” she cried, “Put me down!”
     
    Xavier laid her gently on the bed. She sank into the soft duvet. Lying still, she looked up at the ceiling for a moment while her indignation at being carried seeped away.
     
    When she felt calm, she turned to him. He was sitting on the chair beside the bed, looking at her, hands clasped and pressed to his lips. His face was expressionless but she could detect a twinge of mournfulness in his eyes. He almost looked as though he were praying, but it would be a prayer that was uttered in vain. There was no room in heaven for creatures like him.
     
    “Rochelle” he said, his voice low and grave, “I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am”.
     
    “Don’t” she said. She didn’t want to hear apologies or excuses or pleas for forgiveness. Nothing he could say could make things okay between them. If she wasn’t already bedridden, she’d have walked out the door by now.
     
    “I don’t want to ask for your forgiveness”, he said, “I know I’ve gone beyond the point of being forgiven. But I want to apologise, to explain and hopefully offer you some closure”.
     
    Rochelle regarded him coolly. She didn’t agree to anything, but she didn’t try to stop him again either. He carried on.
     
    “I’m not fully human. When I’m in my non-human form, my natural diet consists of eating people”.
     
    Rochelle was horrified. She moved as far away from him as possible. What had she nearly got herself into?
     
    “I take medication to suppress it”, he continued, “In fact, that package you delivered when we first met was a batch of my medication. It works most of the time, but if I’m ill or drunk or stressed or something like that, it is less effective and I can still partially turn”.
     
    Goodness, Nico had been right about him. He’d been right and she’d been too blinded by budding infatuation to see. There was something not right about him and it wasn’t just general creepiness; he was downright sinister. A wife in the basement would be child’s play compared to this sort of cannibal-but-not confession.
     
    “So, when you attacked me, you were going to eat me?”
     
    “Yes”.
     
    He was so candid about it. Rochelle felt sick. Her stomach churned in unsettling motions. So, if it wasn’t for her fighting back, enabled by the brave Mindy, she’d be dead and devoured by now. That dog deserved a medal. Or a bone – as long as it wasn’t a human one.
     
    “I’m so sorry, Rochelle”, he said, “If I could turn back time…”
     
    “Well, you can’t” she said. Suddenly, she’d had enough. She wanted to go home. Her family probably didn’t even know where she was.
     
    “Where’s my phone?” she