"I'm a fucking fool," he muttered.

"Not for that reason." Past-Death rested a hand on his forearm then withdrew quickly. Her cool touch sent relief spinning through him. "I'm afraid I can't help you figure out what's supposed to happen next. Memory loss."

"I don't care," he replied. Turning to her, Gabriel swept her small frame into his arms and squeezed her hard. She molded against him, resisting no part of his hug. "You're safe. That's all that matters. Though I can't believe you're hanging out here with a demon."

Gabriel held her, his body instinctively relaxing the way it did every time his mate was in his arms. It took all his concentration to keep his hands from wandering the way they wanted to.

Her arms circled him, and she squeezed. "I'm resourceful." She lifted her face to rest her chin on his chest. "Aren't I? Am I resourceful? I know I was."

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"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "You're definitely resourceful."

"Am I better this time than last?"

At the mournful note in her voice, he looked down at her. She appeared distraught or at least, overly concerned about his response.

"I've always loved you," he replied, brushing hair from her face. "But yeah, you're much more likeable this time around."

The sadness didn't leave her features. She ducked her head and pressed it to his chest. He held her quietly. Before her abduction, they'd reached a truce, willing to try to rebuild the trust between them. Losing her again had cemented his determination but also his fear that they were destined to continue hurting each other, whether by choice or not.

Somehow, he had to get past that fear and uncertainty, had to accept his mate and any baggage that came with her.

"I don't like losing you," he told her.

"You won't again. I can't leave the underworld for one," she replied. "Second, I'm ready to be a better person, whether or not you want to be in my life. Losing your soul because your mate doesn't love you enough kind of makes you rethink who you are."

Gabriel said nothing, squeezing her more tightly against him. He hadn't asked about the deal, uncertain what good it'd do. There had been too much anger for him to love her unconditionally, the way he once had.

What he did know: she belonged where she was, in his arms, her warm, feminine body pressed close enough that he was able to smell her familiar scent. He filled his senses with her, a tremor of resentment and anger lingering despite his attempt to push their rocky history out of his thoughts. He'd vowed once not to let his past rule him. He thought he'd been relatively successful, until the Lake showed him images that made the intense emotions bubble up again.




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