ATLAS
What the fuck am I doing?
Atlas couldn’t believe his own actions. What the hell was he doing, holding Lilliane after she had nightmares, making her hot chocolate, and letting her control the TV before she fell asleep on his shoulder?
This wasn’t who he was.
But what the hell was he supposed to do? His head was full of his wolf’s howl to claim her.
Mate.
His heart beat with that word when he was near her.
No wolf could handle hearing their mate crying in the other room. He wanted to make it better. He wanted to make the tears stop and destroy whoever made her cry in the first place.
It could be my fault.
The thought was gutting. There was a chance Lilliane was crying because he had basically kidnapped her. What an asshole he was.Fuck.
So he dried her tears, made her a snack, and bundled her up. Maybe he was an even bigger asshole for prying into what gave her nightmares. He was relieved it wasn’t about him. The mere thought made his chest hurt.
All he wanted was to get Lilliane back to sleep. In the morning, he would drive her to one of her sisters. He would make this right because this was just wrong.
Atlas looked down at the woman sleeping on his shoulder.
He didn’t want to let her go, though.
What happened tomorrow night when she had a bad dream? Would her sisters leave their mates’ beds to comfort her? Lilliane would probably pretend it hadn’t even happened. Wouldn’t it be better for her if he kept her?
Maybe he should give her the choice. Explain that she was his mate.
He shook his head. No way. He couldn’t do that.
Just like he couldn’t move. Not when Lilliane was finally asleep. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. If this was where his mate was sleeping, it was where he needed to be. He couldn’t fight her nightmares for her, but when she started to struggle in her sleep, he rubbed her back until she settled back into a peaceful sleep.
This was the only place for him.
* * *
“Umm? Atlas?”
He blinked his eyes awake. He stiffened when he remembered where he was … on his couch with his mate’s head on his lap.
Right next to his morning erection.
Fuck.
He tried to move away from her, but there was every possibility she’d noticed. “Yeah?”
“I fell back asleep,” she gasped, sitting up.
He rearranged his PJ pants and looked at the clock. “It’s almost seven. You had a good six hours.”
“That’s six hours more than I usually get.” She stretched before moving the throw pillow.
Atlas knew he had to bring it up. What he had done. Taking her like that. He cleared his throat as he made his way to the kitchen. If he was going to have that conversation, he would need coffee.
He began prepping the grounds and cups. Lilliane joined him, sitting at the counter.
