“I’ll tell the humans that the danger’s over,” Griffin said. “As for Theo, well, after all the trouble he’s caused in this town, Cooper’s probably going to ban him from ever setting foot here again.”
“Thanks, Griffin,” I said quietly.
He gave a short nod. “Cooper will probably want to hear your side of the story, too,” he added. “But for now, get that shoulder checked.”
Zack stepped closer.
“Come on,” he said, reaching up, nudging my jaw with his fingertip. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
14
MARK
The employee break room at Griffin’s bar smelled faintly of coffee and lemon cleaner. It was small and utilitarian, with a few metal chairs and a worn couch that had probably seen better days.
I sat on it while Zack rummaged through the first-aid kit, muttering something about people who thought they were invincible.
He was fussing again. His hands moved fast, brow furrowed, as if I were bleeding out instead of sporting a few scratches and bruises.
“Zack,” I said, trying to catch his gaze. “It looks worse than it is.”
He shot me a look that saiddon’t even start. “You have claw marks across your shoulder, Mark. That’s not nothing.”
“They’re shallow,” I insisted. “You should’ve seen me after a pack sparring session. This is barely a warm-up wound.”
Zack didn’t seem convinced. He dabbed antiseptic on a cotton pad and pressed it gently against my shoulder anyway. I hissed at the sting.
“Uh-huh. Barely a scratch,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re lucky Griffin kept everyone else away before the situation got worse. Theo could’ve hurt someone.”
I tensed at that reminder, but the guilt on Zack’s face was worse than the burn of the antiseptic. He hesitated, lowering the pad.
“He only came here because of me,” Zack said quietly. “If I’d just been more firm with him before, maybe?—”
“Zack.” I reached for his wrist, stopping him before he could say more. “You can’t take responsibility for what Theo did. None of us could’ve predicted that. He made his own choices.”
Zack’s shoulders slumped, the tension draining a little.
“Still feels like it’s my fault,” he muttered.
“It’s not,” I said firmly. “You told him it was over. You made that clear. What Theo did tonight had nothing to do with you and everything to do with his pride.”
For a second, Zack just stared at me, like he was trying to decide whether to believe me. Then his expression softened. He sighed and leaned closer, his forehead resting briefly against mine.
“You always know what to say,” Zack said.
“That’s new,” I murmured, smiling despite myself. “Usually you tell me I talk too much.”
Zack huffed a small laugh. “Only when you’re being smug.”
“I can’t help it,” I said. “You bring it out of me.”
He looked up then, eyes bright and clear despite the exhaustion in his face.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
His thumb brushed the edge of one of my bandages, a careful touch that sent a shiver of anticipation through me. It wasn’t about desire right then, not entirely.
It was relief. Gratitude. The bone-deep awareness that I could’ve lost this before it even began. I wanted to kiss him. Just once. To remind myself he was real and still mine.
