by Woods, Erica
“But—”
“You couldn’t let go ‘cause you’re human! Current gets too strong, your muscles lock up and you’re forced to hold on until you fry!”
Just like that, all my earlier determination drained away. I’d wanted to make them proud, but instead I’d put myself at risk and let them down. Could I do anything right? I tried to stop my lip from quivering, but the more I tried, the harder it trembled.
A sniffle escaped, then two.
“Stop that,” Ruarc growled. “I’m not done yelling at you!”
He was right. Resorting to crying was weak, and not at all how I wanted my guys to see me. Not after all I’d gone through to earn their respect. To make them proud.
I blinked to clear the layer of mist covering my eyes, and looked up at Ruarc. “G-go on.”
The savage grimace contorting his face and pulling at his scar was slowly replaced by a look of growing horror. A soft touch to my cheek, a tear being swiped away, then, “Don’t cry, mo chridhe,” Ruarc groaned. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m n-not. You can go on.”
He shook his head, face twisting in pain. “Come here.”
The others remained quiet as Ruarc lifted me up, placing my arms around his neck and my face on his shoulder. Slow, steady strokes across my back followed.
Then I heard an agonizing groan and twisted to see where it came from, but before I could, Jason embraced me from behind, burying his face into the back of my neck while his whole body shuddered.
“Jason! What’s wrong?” Had he been hurt somehow? Had he gotten into a fight?
Oh god, was it because of me?
No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t turn to look at him so I had to settle for gripping his hand in my undamaged one and offering comfort through touch and a soft hum in the back of my throat.
“The same thing is ailing him as the rest of us,” Lucien said, sounding disturbed and defeated and more than a little disquieted. “Why, Hope? Why did you so recklessly put your life in danger?”
That tone . . . It made my heart throb with regret.
“I just . . . I thought that . . .” The words refused to come. It was too embarrassing. Too needy.
“You what?”
“I wanted to . . . wanted to earn your respect,” I mumbled weakly and pressed my face into Ruarc’s chest so they couldn’t see my burning cheeks and watering eyes.
Jason blew out a breath. “That’s ridiculous, love. You have our respect.”
“I don’t!” I cried. “Don’t you see? I’m so much weaker than you, weaker than all the other females here. You’d be better off with—”
“Not another word!” Lucien hissed. Suddenly his face appeared over Ruarc’s shoulder, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Did we not already have this conversation, female?” The words were dark and threatening. “Did I not tell you to never disparage yourself again?”
Under his deadly stare, all I could do was nod.
“Then I must have misheard you. Correct?”
I nodded again, acutely aware of how small I was, of how fragile compared to the huge lycans surrounding me.
“Would you like to try your explanation anew?”
That time, I shook my head no. I really, really didn’t want to explain. If they didn’t see my flaws, who was I to point it out to them?
Someone who loves them, who wants them to be happy. And to be happy, they have to know everything; it wouldn’t be fair otherwise.
Sometimes having a conscience was no fun.
“Why would you think you don’t have our respect, love?” Jason had finally stopped shaking. Still curled around me, he had grabbed the wrist of my right hand and kept the palm from touching anything.
Shielding me from further pain.
“I mean . . .” How could I explain how inadequate I felt without sounding like the pathetic, needy woman I was? “I wanted you to have a . . . a female you could be proud of. Someone you could root for in the games like the other males do.”
Jerking his head back, Ruarc bared his teeth in a silent snarl. “We want you alive! Healthy! Nothing else matters.”
“It matters to me,” I muttered.
“That’s a nice enough thought, love,” Jason began, curling his free arm around my belly and ignoring Ruarc’s angry frown. “But you are human. And we wouldn’t change anything about you.”
A frown pulled at my lips. “Really? If you could make me a lycan, you wouldn’t?”
There was a short silence, then, “No. If you’d grown up lycan, you wouldn’t be you, and you’re perfect the way you are.” Jason brushed his lips over my neck in a sweet kiss. “Wouldn’t change a thing. Not a freckle, not an eyelash, not even a hair on your gorgeous, little head.”
I wanted to believe him, oh, how I wanted to believe him. But I just couldn’t, so I changed the subject. “Did Ash leave?”
Lucien’s narrowed gaze bored through my skull. “Yes,” he said. “He has gone for first aid supplies.”
“First aid? Who’s hurt?”
A dangerous, dangerous silence. “You are.”
“Oh.”
While Lucien looked like he was contemplating murder—and relishing the idea—Ruarc drew back to glare down at me. “Oh? That’s all you have to say!”
“Uhm. Did I . . . did I at least do better than the woman?”
“What woman?”
“The woman—the female lycan who was next to Jason.”
Jason stiffened. “Kayla? You wanted to beat Kayla?
Not appreciating his incredulous tone, I gave him a small nod.
“That bitch went out early.”
The venom in his voice made me still. “You . . . you don’t like her?”
“Kayla? She’s a power-hungry, hateful snob of a female.”
All of a sudden, the tightness in my chest loosened, the clouds darkening my thoughts parted, and I forgot about the throbbing in my stupid hand. “That’s . . . great!”
Ruarc met my gaze. “You destroyed her,” he said matter of factly, but was that a sparkle of amusement in his silver eyes?
“I did?”
Lucien rolled his eyes and muttered a curse under his breath while Jason said, “You did. You actually beat almost all of them. The only one who outlasted you was Gideon, and for a second I think he considered letting go just so you would, too.”
I gaped up at them. “I . . . I came second?”
Ruarc nodded. “You did.”
“I did it!” I squealed, tugging on Jason’s hold in my haste to throw my arms around the man staring down at me with equal parts humor, exasperation, and . . . was that pride?
But I’d forgotten my hand was sore, and a yelp tore free when the damaged skin pulled.
No, never mind, I thought with a wince when Ruarc’s expression turned to harsh, unyielding stone.
“Find Ash,” he snarled at Lucien, then gave me a good glare.
But . . . I didn’t mind; I’d come second. Second! Finally something good had come from the Hunters’ torture. I’d outlasted a lycan female. And males. Many males. Even the alpha on Jason’s team!
The grin stretching across my face only served to infuriate Ruarc, and soon he was back to a blistering lecture about safety and my duty to obey my males while I tried to curb my smile and pay attention.
Sufficient to say, I failed.
42
Jason
I’d failed my girl.
It was the only thought going through my mind as we trudged back in the direction of our cabin. Knowing Ash, he’d probably meet us halfway there, ready to bandage the seared flesh of our little female, but until then—and for as long as she was hurt—each moment would be torture.
Out of the corner of my eye, I kept an eye on Hope’s right hand. She held it slightly out from her body, palm up, careful not to curl her fingers too much and aggravate the already damaged skin.
My chest tightened.
This was my fault—no, our fault for not making our futur
e mate feel secure in our affection. How could she doubt our respect for her? Hell, she was the most amazing person I’d ever met—too kind for her own good, blind to our myriad of flaws, only ever seeing the best in us and trusting us with her safety when we’d proven several times that we were not infallible.
When I thought of what had almost happened back home with he-who-should-not-be-named . . .
My jaw clenched as a full-body shudder rippled through muscle and clattered against bone.
And again, I’ve let her get hurt.
I should’ve found a way to stop her. Said whatever words would’ve made her step back, done whatever it would’ve taken to remove her from the situation.
Should’ve made her feel secure in my affections.
I blew out a breath and glanced over at my girl. She was walking with her neck bent, eyes on the ground, brows knitted in a thoughtful expression that was hella cute. Not that this was a good time to notice said cuteness, but damn it all, my girl couldn’t sneeze without being adorable—I’d know. I’d seen her sneeze, and that shit made me say aww in a way that somehow made me as hard as . . .
Hell, nothing was as hard as my dick when Hope was involved. Though, for once, having her warm, willing body beneath me was the least of my concerns. It was buried somewhere beneath a mountain of self-loathing, an ocean of guilt, and several tons of ‘should’ve, would’ve, could’ve’s.’
Why had our girl felt the need to prove her worth? Had the whole thing with Ida made her doubt my devotion? I’d thought we’d fixed that, but . . . had I missed something? She’d said she wanted to earn our respect and I’d heard the truth in those painfully raw words. But there’d also been that shark again, swimming behind her eyes at a pace that could only mean it was hunting.
“If you could make me a lycan, you wouldn’t?”
I missed a step, nearly stumbled, but managed to do a half jump to regain my balance. Ruarc’s glare burned along the side of my face, Lucien’s stare boring into the back of my head.
I ignored them both.
“I only like you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
Hope . . . It was almost like she thought we should be with our own kind, almost like she was pushing—
No. She cared about us. She needed us. She was all alone in this fucked up world. Not even she could be selfless enough to consider giving that up because it might be easier for us to be with another lycan?
I scoffed, and Hope, being as sensitive as she was to our moods, looked up with a small frown.
“You okay?” she asked.
Making my mouth shape a smile was excruciating, but I managed. “Yeah.”
Couldn’t make it reach my eyes, though. And for the life of me, I couldn’t say anything else, either. My tongue rasped against my cheek, dry and fucking useless.
I was kidding myself. Our girl was not only that selfless, she’d been shaped without an ounce of vanity, without so much as a pinch of self-worth. I could tell her she was all I’d ever wanted until I was blue in the face—she wouldn’t believe me. Not until time proved my words as truth.
And she doesn’t even know the full extent of a lycan-human mating . . .
Jaw stiffening, shoulders tensing, I knew my eyes had turned amber. Not the warm kind I felt heat me up from the inside out whenever I looked at my female, but the cold, hard amber I’d seen in the mirror whenever I forgot my self-imposed rules.
Hope could never know. She’d leave. She’d fucking leave, because my girl was selfless to an unhealthy degree.
I jabbed a finger into my temple and tried to banish the thoughts and images leaving my insides a battlefield.
A small hand slipped into mine. I looked down, heart giving a wrenching thud when Hope met my gaze with an understanding, gentle smile.
Somehow, she’d sensed I was rattled, and no way would she leave me like that on my own. Not my girl. Not our Hope.
“What are we having for dinner today?”
The unexpected question had me do a double take. Pale—but then she was always pale—cheeks tinged with a faint pink that darkened when I kept staring. She seemed okay, though she never asked about details like food and what movies we were going to watch, choosing instead to follow our lead.
Sometimes I wondered if she tried to become invisible, be as unobtrusive as possible so we wouldn’t find fault with her choices or her presence and eject her from our lives.
Like that would ever happen.
“I don’t know. What would you like?” I answered.
Big brown eyes twinkled up at me. “Pizza. Definitely pizza. With pineapple topping.”
Ugh.
I detested pineapples, but no way could I refuse her something she wanted. I’d just pick off the little buggers and throw them in the trash where they belonged. “Pizza it is.”
“And could we ask them to chop up some of the yummy fruit and mix it in the sauce?”
This time I couldn’t suppress my grimace. Maybe I could just eat the crust? “Whatever you want, love.”
“Do you think they’d bake some into the crust too?”
For god’s sake, was she reading my mind? “Is that really necessary?”
She nodded gravely. “Oh, yes. Everything must be covered in pineapple. The more the better.”
“Fine.” If pineapple would make her feel better, then by god, pineapple she’d have.
With that settled, my thoughts turned back to the hell that had been this day. Watching my sweet girl being swept away by other males had been hard enough, but when she’d refused to back out of the competition and kept hold of the metal rod throughout the first pulse, I’d been close to losing my mind.
“Maybe we should order pineapple juice as well?”
When one by one, lycans fell away—either due to the pain or lack of control—and stubborn, brave, sweet human Hope stood with her back ramrod straight, face pale, eyes closed, refusing to let go . . . I’d lost it. But when I’d released the road, diving at her, ready to pull her off and wrap her in a bear hug, I’d been hit by what felt like a grizzly and forced to the ground.
“At least three cartons.”
While I’d been held down by two of the game-enforcers, my fragile, little female had accepted more and more electricity into her tiny body, the scent of her burning flesh like a whip laying my nose open to the bone.
By the time the rest of my pack had arrived, I’d been close to feral.
A shudder twitched my muscles in a way that made me miss the electric rods.
If I ever again had to watch my kindhearted female be hurt while I was powerless to help her . . .
Fuck!
At the Assembly we were helpless. Not even Ruarc had succeeded in protecting her—not when Samuel had encouraged the crowd to help contain my brothers.
If Hope hadn’t passed out when she did and my pack been let through, there would’ve been a massacre.
“We could get rid of all the other drinks in the house and only drink pineapple. Forever.”
The forced cheer in Hope’s voice had me glance down and replay the words I’d missed.
“Pineapple juice?” Staring down at the little minx, seeing the playful twinkle in her pretty eyes, the faint blush coloring her cheeks a charming pink, the sick feeling in my gut was vanquished. “Are you making jokes, love? Now?”
She nodded her head and peeked up at me.
So damned adorable.
“Thank god,” I said. “I hate pineapple.”
“I remember.” The little vixen had the nerve to smile up at me. “But you needed to get out of your own head. The look on your face . . .” She trailed off, shrugged, lowered her voice. “You looked like you were in pain, Jason.”
This girl . . . I didn’t deserve her. “I am—I was,” I corrected, hating the guilt creeping into my sweet female’s eyes. “Hey, none of that, love.” Coming to a stop, I tilted her chin up with one finger and leaned down to give her a quick kiss.
As soon as my lips brush
ed over her soft, luscious flesh, all my good intentions fled. I groaned, pulling her against my body and thrusting my tongue into her mouth so I could taste her properly.
A hard hand on my shoulder yanked me back.
“Not the time,” Ruarc growled, but his eyes lingered on Hope’s swollen lips.
“I know, I know.” I dragged a hand through my hair and cursed. She was hurt, dammit! First we had to patch her up, then we had to make sure there was no lingering damage from the electricity.
She’s human . . .
How would this much electricity affect her? Her hand was zinged, but the skin hadn’t blistered. Still . . . could there be permanent damage?
A sudden ache in the back of my throat made it hard to swallow.
Having grown up around humans, I should have known more about their kind. Why hadn’t I paid more attention to the ones who were hurt or sick? I should have stalked the hospitals and their doctors—I would’ve, had I known this day would come. A day where my girl was hurt on my watch.
And like that, I was back to brooding.
I failed her. Utterly and completely.
But looking down at my girl, watching a soft smile spread across her beautiful face and her eyes light up, I saw no hints of recrimination, no anger at our failure to protect her. She looked . . . happy.
“What are you smiling about, love?” I asked, enchanted by the timid blush creeping up her neck and the way she shyly averted her gaze.
“Nothing. Just excited for pizza, that’s all,” she said with a small grin, taking two steps forward only to be halted by our interlaced fingers.
“Are you sure that’s it?” When she tugged on my hand to get me moving, I gave her a slow grin. “Are you perchance proud of your little stunt today?”
Her face fell. “N-no. I know what I did was . . . stupid.”
“Damn straight,” Ruarc muttered. But despite his anger, he was no more capable than me of watching our female hurt without offering comfort. With a heavy sigh, he put a hand on her lower back and pulled her into his chest. Since I wasn’t about to let her go, I followed, still squeezing her hand. “Was stupid,” he said and crushed her to him while making a gruff hushing sound when she tried to pull away. “It was. But you proved your strength. Again. So please”—he leaned back and grasped her chin—“never do anything like that ever again.”