A Taste of Midnight by Lara Adrián

“I never knew.”
    “Would it have made a difference if you had?”
    Her eyes fell away from him for a moment, considering. “No, it wouldn’t have. Conlan was a good man, a good mate to me through all our time together. I loved him completely. I always will.”
    Mal nodded, even though the words tasted bitter. “He honored you well. As I knew he would.”
    Danika reached for him now, her fingertips light on his clenched jaw. “Con’s gone, and I’m still alive. I still mourn him, but I can’t tell you that my heart isn’t glad to be looking at you now, Malcolm. I won’t deny that it feels good to betouching you, to be lying here with you, like this. I didn’t realize how alone I’ve felt this past year until I had your arms around me.” She stroked his scarred cheek, the pad of her thumb brushing tenderly over the poorly healed knife wound. “Conlan’s not the only one you feel you’re betraying here tonight, is he?”
    He turned his head to avoid the contact, wishing he could avoid reliving the failure that earned him that brutal gash. Before Danika had a chance to prod his mind for answers, he mentally slammed the gate down hard on his past. Locked it behind a wall of cold fury. “I don’t want to talk about that, Dani.”
    “You have an unfinished nursery upstairs,” she murmured, sitting up with him when he started to move away from her on the bed. “You obviously don’t live here anymore, or haven’t in quite some time. And even though I can tell you’re blocking me from your mind right now, downstairs in the kitchen, your thoughts gave away that you lost someone you loved. I know you’re grieving and angry—”
    “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped harshly. “All of that is personal.”
    She exhaled a quiet scoff. “There’s nothing more personal than what we shared tonight. How can telling me about your past—about the mate it’s obvious you loved and lost—be more intimate than this?”
    “Because the less you know, the safer it will be for you.”He swung his feet to the floor. “I have to go. I’ve been away from the club for too long.”
    Danika swung off the bed before he could, putting herself in front of him. Her hands were on his shoulders, her eyes searching his. “How long have you been plotting to kill Reiver?”
    Mal hissed a curse. “Just drop it, Dani.”
    He felt her push harder at his mind. A determined prod, and then she was inside his thoughts, pulling the truth out of him against his will. “Seven months,” she whispered, staggering back on her heels. “You’ve had to look at him, work for him … all this time. Why?”
    “Because I needed to get close to him,” Mal ground out. “I needed to get in deep enough to destroy him, not just kill him. God knows that would’ve been easy enough to do by now. For what he did to Fiona, I want to destroy him and all of his cronies who hide behind their wealth and connections, feeling themselves above any law. All I’ve been waiting for is the chance—and it’s coming. I’ve never been closer to having this thing done.”
    “What happened to your Breedmate, Mal?” Danika reached out, smoothed her hands over his scarred, broken face. “Have you told anyone at all?”
    He shook his head, mute for a long moment as the memories swelled, black as acid. “I hadn’t planned to take a mate. I’d been alone for so long, I’d gotten used to my freedom. I fed from human females, found pleasure with more than a few. But Imade it my habit to steer clear of the women with this damnable mark,” he said, tracing the edges of the Breedmate birthmark on Danika’s trim belly. “But then I met Fiona. She was sweet and gentle and innocent—just a girl of twenty-two. Everything was fresh to her, everything a new adventure, something magical. She looked at me in much the same way, like some kind of goddamned hero from a fairy tale. I had centuries of living behind me, battles won and lost. I looked at