The Awakening: Britton (Entangled Covet)

by Abby Niles

  “Are we done here?” He despised the hoarseness in his voice. Despised how deflated he sounded. And felt.

  When the restraints released, he stood up and left without looking back.

  What he needed most right now was Val in his arms, to know that the council hadn’t taken her away from him, too. Had she made it back from the compound yet? Was she even aware of what was going on?

  As he made the long hike down the hall, his speed increased. He’d kiss her, remind himself that even though his beast was gone and would no longer stir when he saw her and touched her, he was still alive and his body would stir in a new way. A safer way.

  Then she was there, running around the corner at full speed, fear filling the tense lines of her face. When their eyes connected, she stumbled to a stop. “Britton!”

  Revulsion exploded inside him, festering, spreading, until he was consumed by it and all he wanted was to distance himself from the source.

  Val.

  The woman he loved.

  No! He wanted to scream and rail at the unfairness of it.

  Horrified at what he might do or say, he forced himself to take another step forward, and he was punched with another potent wave of disgust. Dea, it had happened. The thing he feared most. Even with the Drall completely awakened, it still failed to acknowledge Val as his mate. But saw her as the enemy.

  Why?

  The soul-screaming question echoed inside his head and throughout his body until he was certain he would crumble from the weight of the grief that tortured him.

  “C-come”—he cleared his throat, needing to relieve the hatred that squeezed his airway, strangling him far worse than it ever had before.—“Val, come to m-me.”

  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take another step toward her. Somewhere deep inside, something stronger than the love he knew he had for this woman kept him planted to the spot, made him want to run in the opposite direction. How fucked up was that? To know he loved this woman, but only felt revulsion.

  But hope refused to die. Maybe if she came to him it would be okay.

  When she took one hesitant step forward, her expression shadowed by alarm, he shuddered and instinctively jerked back.

  “B-Britton?” So much hesitance. So much fear.

  He made himself maintain eye contact with her, made himself watch her face crumple with dawning realization, made himself watch her accept.

  “Oh, Dea, no,” she wailed, tears glittering in her eyes as her shoulders started to shake. She slumped to her knees, covering her face with her hands.

  The sounds of her anguish were magnified as they bounced off the cherrywood walls, almost bringing him to his knees. Reaching for her, he stepped forward, and disgust surged through him. Terrified that if he touched her, he’d recoil, he stumbled away. He refused to cause her more pain, refused to give her more awful memories of him. She already had years of his nastiness to look back on. Her last memories of him would not be more of the same.

  He needed her memories of him to be the good—their blissful, joyous time together in each other’s arms; how he’d clung to her in love, and not how he flinched away in disgust.

  Thank the Dea, he’d had the strength not to bond with her. There was no telling what they’d both be feeling right now if he had placed his marks on her thighs. As it was, he was the only one having to deal with the clusterfuck of negativity warring inside him. At least he’d saved her from that anguish.

  When she lifted her head, tears streaked her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Britton.”

  The fact that she apologized to him left him stunned, as did the way the sound of her voice was like nails on a chalkboard, making him want to press his hands to his ears. What the fuck was happening? His reaction to Val had been bad before, but not this bad. “Not your fault,” he choked out, then wheezed in a breath against the vise around his throat.

  “Y-you tried to tell me, but I believed in them. I gave you hope. I made you think we could be together, and now you hate me.”

  As the sweet resonance of her voice slashed at him like razors, his heart squeezed tight in agony at her sorrow. He wanted to weep, scream, and flee all at the same time. He cursed the serum, cursed the High Council.

  No matter what, though, she had to know the truth.

  His entire body quivered from refusing to submit to the serum’s demands. “No. I. Love. You.”

  Why was he having such a hard time forming words around her?

  His confession made her cry even harder, and he felt cleaved in two.

  “Can’t do this to you.” His voice was thick from the tears that blurred his vision. “So sorry.”

  Knowing his presence only gave her more grief, he rushed past her to the elevator.

  “Britton?”

  Bile surged in his throat as her voice flowed over him. Keeping his back to her, refusing to let her see the extent of what she did to him now, he stopped.

  “I-I love you, too.” A harsh sob sounded, making him clench his teeth. “I wish I had realized that before now. So we were h-happy.” Another shuddering, soul-crushing weep stabbed at him, shredding him with conflicting emotions that made him want to scream. “Y-you’re my mate. I accept you. I will wait for you!”

  The moment of acceptance from their mate was what every shifter waited for their entire lifetime. For him, though, what was supposed to be a joyous occasion was anything but. He’d known this would happen, known Val would eventually realize what she was losing by being his mate, and he’d failed to protect her from it happening.

  He wouldn’t have her wait for him.

  “No,” he strangled out. “Forget me. Move on. Live your…life.”

  “My life, my eternity, is with you.”

  “Can’t wait for me. Please. Don’t. Will kill me.”

  Silence deafened the hall and he made himself go to the elevator. As the doors shut behind him, leaving her slumped on the floor, staring at him with helpless grief, he punched the wall. Hard.

  His life, Val’s life, their life together, were all destroyed.

  …

  Dea, Britton missed Val like crazy. He’d missed her from the second those elevators doors had closed between them two days ago.

  The deep ache of his loss had dragged him down to her section of the police department, but he’d stopped short of going in, halting in the hallway right outside the SPAC offices. He knew what would happen the moment he saw her. The same damn thing that had happened the last two times he’d been unable to control his overwhelming need simply to lay eyes on her.

  He pictured Val’s smile and embraced the pleasant flutter that encased his chest. As long as he manifested the image of her in his mind through memory, he was rewarded with all the positive feelings he had toward the woman he loved. Any kind of outside source—a picture, a sound bite, a damn voice mail—filled him with all the awful, fucked-up shit. Even worse was the time in between when he just missed her like crazy—like now.

  All he wanted was a glimpse.

  After bracing for the negative impact that was about to hit, he took the final step that brought him just inside the doorway.

  He gaze immediately went to her desk, but it was empty. Relief coursed through him, then he cursed the emotion when just moments before he’d been desperate to see her. As he searched the room, he finally spotted her walking out of an office toward the back. Revulsion latched onto his throat and squeezed like a vise, and he fisted his hands at his sides.

  When she looked up, she froze. He struggled to keep his face expressionless, but his fucking top lip curled up anyway.

  Even though he was sneering at her, she didn’t flinch, she just sent him a sad smile. His insides quivered from the disgust building within him, his lungs burned from the constriction on his throat, and the repulsion finally propelled him backward into the hallway.

  As soon she was gone from his sight, grief replaced all the nastiness. Just like that. Instantly, he wanted to be with her. To have her in his arms, hear her voi
ce, talk to her.

  And he couldn’t even look at a picture of the woman without sneering.

  Smothering a bellow of rage, he stalked down the hall, keeping his fists at his sides and not sending them through the wall as he so desperately wanted to. He fucking hated this. Every goddamn second of it. Worse, his bad reactions to Val were even stronger this time around.

  Before, he’d gotten into nasty, word-flinging encounters with her without issue. Now, uttering so much as a syllable around her felt impossible. Hell, getting within fifty yards of her was impossible. He figured it was because the Drall had been awakened, and had heightened his responses to her—both the good and bad.

  Which meant his emotions went to the extreme opposite the moment he’d removed himself from her vicinity. That reaction was new, too. Before, he had to calm himself down after leaving her, as his body shook from disgust. Now, he shook with revulsion in her presence, but he immediately missed her when she was gone. He thought about her. Worried about her. Was consumed by his love for her.

  A part of him would have preferred the constant spike of hatred. The constant up and down of emotions made him feel as if he were going insane. He’d never survive sixteen years of this. And if by some chance he did, he would be worthless to Val. Two days had nearly broken him. Years of this torture would almost certainly lead to a complete mental snap and a cushy padded cell to call home.

  …

  Val sat behind her desk at SPAC, absently staring at a case file she’d opened twenty minutes earlier. Concentration hadn’t been her forte since Britton had left her heartbroken and stunned two days ago. Not that it was his fault. She knew that.

  After the elevator had taken him away, she’d made herself get up and walk. And she’d been making herself keep moving ever since. But it hadn’t been easy.

  The image of Britton’s torn expression, the sorrow as his face had contorted in disgust, shattered her heart over and over again, causing her such intolerable inner pain she was pretty much worthless to anyone.

  She couldn’t eat, sleep, or even hold a conversation, her mind in such a haze of grief that the only thought consuming her was “this was not how it was supposed to end.” She and Britton were supposed to have a future together.

  As she tried to make sense of it all, her anger at the High Council had grown and grown, becoming a raging mass of fury, until she believed she would go mad. A need for vengeance had started to take root—a dangerous emotion she struggled to keep a lid on. She’d seen firsthand what grief and revenge could make a person resort to. There must be a better way to fix this.

  She just needed to wait until her emotions didn’t control her, and she could think clearly.

  A movement at the door had her turning her head. Her heart squeezed as Britton stepped into the room. His magnificent blue eyes immediately locked with hers, and they stared at each other. She soaked in the regret and ignored the ugly sneer that curled his beautiful lips.

  Her own emotions were unbearable, but what he was going through had to be a thousand times worse.

  How did he handle knowing he loved her, but feeling nothing but hatred when he saw her? She couldn’t even wrap her mind around the notion, let alone living it, day in and day out.

  She let her love show, refusing to hide it. One of her biggest regrets was not fully accepting she loved Britton until his face had twisted into the ugly sneer and she’d felt her soul shatter. More than anything she wished she’d been able to say those three words when he could still have taken her in his arms, grinned, and kissed her. At least he knew, though.

  Even with him sneering at her now, love expanded her chest. Because that wasn’t her Britton. The hateful mask twisting his handsome face couldn’t hide the softness of his eyes…the sadness, the longing.

  The love.

  That was her Britton. And she focused on that man.

  He might think telling her to forget him would be the end of them, but it wasn’t. Not by a long shot. She’d find a way to release him from this. If not, sixteen years from now, she’d be waiting. Grayer and with more wrinkles, but he was her future.

  As she held his gaze, she communicated all of that to him.

  A sheen moistened his eyes at the same time a shudder racked over his body. He glanced away, a muscle tensing in cheek, then he turned and left.

  She felt empty. Alone.

  It had been like this for two endless, anguish-filled days. She knew it would be easier on him if he just pretended she no longer existed. But each day, at least twice a day, he stepped inside her department, stood on the far end of the room, and searched her out.

  She didn’t know why he put himself through the torture. She rubbed her forehead. No, she knew. Because she felt the same way. He just had to see her. Even if it hurt to do so.

  She battled with her own need to see him. But she refused to search him out, refused to cause him undue pain. She’d let him do it on his terms, in a way he could cope. Not cornering him and making his feelings worse.

  With a painful sigh, she picked up her pen and tried to make out the words on the file. It was nothing but a big blur.

  “What do you think is up with Brit?” The hushed words were spoken a little distance from her desk.

  At the mention of his name, her head snapped up and she spied Raquel talking with another SPAC agent, Tammy.

  “I know, right?” Tammy said. “Ever since he got back from his medical leave, he’s just been…off. Almost like he’s depressed, which is so unlike him.”

  “Olivia said she went up to him as soon as he returned, and he brushed her off. He canceled their date last Friday night, too. I haven’t seen him flirting with anyone else, either. It’s just weird.”

  “You don’t think he’s met someone, do you?”

  “Confirmed bachelor Townsend? No way. But he is walking around looking like someone kicked his puppy.”

  Val turned back to the file, blocking out their conversation.

  Yeah, he had met someone. He’d fallen in love. And had his heart broken. All in the space of a week.

  Even though the idea of Britton flirting with another woman hurt her, she was still stunned by how much their time together had changed him. He was no longer Britton Townsend the player. He was a shell of the man he once was. For better…and for worse.

  As the fury she’d struggled to keep restrained exploded into rage, she flung her pen on her desk. No longer fighting the all-consuming anger, she allowed it to embrace her, control her. Shoving back her chair, she shot to her feet.

  Emotions be damned. It was time to confront the High Council.

  …

  “He saved a child! Twice! How can you not acknowledge his invaluable service?” Val demanded, sweeping her gaze down the long wooden table so she pinned every member of the council with her question.

  Harwood steepled his fingers on the table. “What Detective Townsend did on this case does not excuse the fact that four years ago he broke one of our very strictest laws. He shifted while in the presence of an unmarked human. That is an extremely serious offense.”

  “But he wasn’t even in the room with that child when he shifted, and the other humans didn’t see him, either. The law says ‘in the presence.’ There was no one present! Where is the harm?”

  Harwood’s face contorted in irritation. “The harm, Detective Calhoun, is that he took an oath and he broke that oath when he made the decision to allow his beast out in a densely populated human area. Anything could have happened.”

  “But it didn’t. Technically he did not break the law. You could show him some leniency.”

  “We did,” the councilman said through clenched teeth. “He’s not in Kerker.”

  She knew going in this wouldn’t be easy. But the stone wall who was Harwood was really starting to piss her off. Inhaling, she collected herself. The “saving two kids” defense hadn’t worked. Time to pull out the big guns—the truth…about her.

  “Do any of you realize that without Detective
Townsend, I would have failed on the very first day of Charlie’s kidnapping case? I’m not even talking about the blanket fiasco, which had already convinced you the case was above my abilities and was why you brought him in to begin with.”

  “I don’t see—”

  She cut him off. “The kidnappers knew my limitations. They had set decoys to throw me off. Detective Townsend was the one who pinpointed the five suspects’ scents. He was the one who was able to tell they had split up. He was the one who saved my life after I made a dumb decision, which also put his life at risk. And he’s the one who single-handedly kept the entire shifter community from being exposed. Him. Not me. Detective Townsend. I didn’t do shit on this case, Councilmen, other than follow his lead. Trust me, SPAC would be far better off having Britton Townsend back at the helm.”

  Dispute that, asshole.

  “Detective, we are well aware of Officer Townsend’s abilities. But you have been a valuable asset and exemplary leader to the SPAC department for almost four years. One case outside your specific expertise doesn’t make you any less valuable to us. In fact, you bring to the job a certain reliability that’s impossible with a shifter. As a woman of our species, you do not have a beast, and therefore, we have no worries of you shifting at inappropriate times. And yet, you have a powerful ability, more so than most shifters. Please do not take your temporary demotion on this case as a slight. The High Council depends on you.”

  Holy hell, he’d disputed it. Desperation gripped her insides. She beat it back. Getting personal with the council wouldn’t help matters. If anything, it would cheapen every point she’d just made, because she would then be arguing on Britton’s behalf as a distraught mate and not a respected partner. Either way, pleas stemming from emotions would fall on deaf ears. They’d put a mother in Kerker for nothing more than protecting her child. Why would they care if a convicted criminal couldn’t be with his mate?

  As she stared at the ten faces she’d served for almost ten years, disappointment filled her all the way to the marrow. “There is no way to change your mind?” she asked tightly.

  “I’m sorry, Detective,” Harwood said. “But the law is the law.”