The Drazen World: Purgatory (Kindle Worlds Novella)

had difficulties finding a warm body to keep me company. I just could never bring myself to go any further. My mind was always drawn to the flaws, the endless reasons why it wouldn't work, the unrelenting obsession to succeed that took precedence over any type of romantic liaison. The overwhelming feeling that if Mr. Right existed, I would know it within seconds of meeting him. It never happened. At least not down there.
"See? What you're doing right now, that doubt written all over your face. That, right there, is the reason I can't. The reason I won't." His tatted up arms were crossed, revealing the ropes of muscles that brought his art to life.
"That doubt was there only because you just rejected me, you ass!" Jumping from the bed, I stood up to him, facing him head on in this battle of wills. I couldn't believe I was in between Heaven and Hell fighting about sex with the perfect man .
There I was, living my own version of an eye-rolling scene from a soap opera . The Young and the Dead: Purgatory Edition.
"So fuck me, Hunter. Take me right now." I repeated my words, feeling emboldened by my newfound revelations. Throwing him a dare. Calling him 'chicken'. Pushing him off the pier. No pun intended.
But I needed a reaction. I needed him to fight for me like Jonathan fought for another day with Monica. Hunter was my version of a Drazen and I'd be damned if I took it lying it down.
Actually, that was exactly how I intended to take him.
"I will never fuck you, Gabby. I can't. I'm not built for it. I can only make love to you, but not until you love yourself. Not until you see your worth, because once I claim you as mine, it will be for eternity. Are you ready for that kind of commitment? Because, I am." He growled, his fist beating against his own chest. "I have been ready for over a decade, waiting for you. Watching you destroy yourself and wishing I could put you back together."
My spine stiffened at his words. They made zero sense.
"What do you mean, you've been watching me destroy myself? I've been making some pretty spectacular progress since I've been here." I threw at him, reminding him that the difference between hating myself and being able to look at myself in the mirror without feeling disgusted was a notable step-up.
"Gabrielle Mona Reese, I have been in love with you since the day you turned seventeen. My soul recognized his mate and has been waiting, watching and crying through every one of your losses, your wins and your devastations. Yet, through it all, you're still not ready to accept the unconditional devotion that is mine for you. Until then, we can never be." Right before my eyes, Hunter fell to his knees and begged. "So, please, Gabby. I'm pleading with you to set me free from this emotional purgatory and love yourself. Just...see what I see. Accept it, love it, and I promise you I will be here when you do. I will give you every part of me."
With a lingering kiss on the inside of my wrist, Hunter rose to his feet, told me to, "think about it" and walked out the door. Again. Leaving me to reflect on the fate of my self-acceptance.
Except, fuck this shit.
Turning toward the mirror, I proudly looked over myself. My golden hair had a spring to it I had never noticed, the slight curls at the ends wrapping around my taut cloth-covered nipples. My slender neck gave me a regal elegance I never felt I owned until now. My lips, they were still swollen from our earlier kiss, the pinkish hue bringing out the soft porcelain tint of my skin. Looking up, I stared at myself in the reflection. Bold, determined dark eyes stared right back at me; taunting, defying, commanding.
"Go to him."
"Tell him."
"Show him."
Any other time, I would have considered myself crazy for actually talking to my mirror image but then again I was dead, so a little crazy was probably acceptable.
Worst of all, not only did I talk to myself, I actually followed my own advice. With a bright smile adorning my lips, I turned toward the door and chased down my soul mate.
Chapter 15
I stormed into Hunter's room like a starving lion chasing down her prey. The tables had turned, I was the huntress, he was mine to do as I pleased. When I threw open the door, the colors around his room assaulted me like an old-school frying pan, knocking me back a couple of steps.
Reds and yellows bled into blues and greens. The bedspread was a dark canary color with a ruby outline that popped the tones beautifully. A painting. A fucking painting, was hanging above his bed. My eyes latched onto it, my heart stopping for a few beats as my brain scrambled to place it in my memories.
It looked like one my mother had done for me when I was younger. An adult hand reaching out to take a child's hand. She had told me that no matter the circumstances, she would always be there to guide me through my life.
This was a replica, the colors were all wrong and the hand wasn't that of a delicate woman's but that of a strong, protective man. My head snapped to Hunter so quickly, I feared I'd dislodge a couple of vertebrae. There, against the opposite wall, stood my Hunter. My prey. My equal.
"It reminds me of you." Was his only explanation. His words from earlier reiterated inside my mind.
"I have been in love with you since the day you turned seventeen."
"I'm ready. I need the truth, all of it. " In warrior mode, ready to take on the facts and leave behind the naiveté,