Rage filled me at the sight. Not just of another male’s bite on her body, but the pain it symbolized. Her pain. Swallowing a growl, I leaned forward and slid my tongue along the one side of the injury, then the other.
Chloe made a small sound, shifting slightly away from me. I knew that my ministrations hurt, but they were necessary. With my saliva, the scarring wouldn’t be as bad.
I worked as quickly and gently as I possibly could until the bleeding stopped and the marks left by Brayden’s fangs were pink where the skin was healing.
When I lifted my head, she immediately put on the shirt she clutched against her chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered. Clearing her throat, she looked at me. “What about your wounds?”
I looked down at the bullet graze on my arm. It had already closed on its own, a scab forming on my skin. By tomorrow it would be gone. The rest of my lacerations had been superficial.
“I’m good.”
She nodded. “Okay, well, I’m going to try to sleep for a few hours.”
“That’s a good idea.”
She crawled into the far side of the bed, giving me her back. I stared at the curve of her shoulder for a long moment, hating the fact that my fierce she-wolf was so quiet and complacent.
As I stood and walked across the hall to check on Carter, I decided then and there that Brayden Kirkpatrick would die the most painful death I could think of, and I’d had occasion to think of a fair number of ways to kill a wolf slowly.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chloe
Ilistened toLachlan leave the room, my heart aching in my chest. When he was gone, I closed my eyes and felt the first tear trickle down my cheek.
The events of the past twelve hours were straight out of a nightmare. With trembling fingers, I reached up and touched the ruined tissues on the side of my neck. I felt a surge of rage. I wanted to kill Brayden Kirkpatrick so badly that it hurt. With the bite he’d left on me, I would be scarred for life. There would be no way to cleanse myself of the stink of his mark.
When he was dead and no longer able to assert a claim on me, I would find Darrell Whelby.
I heard the soft murmur of Lachlan’s voice and realized he was talking to Calder. I hadn’t even thought about calling my grandmother or Calder. My mind had only been on getting away from Prater and helping Carter survive his injuries.
I couldn’t fall apart now. There was too much at stake. When it was all over, I would have time.
Lachlan returned to the bedroom, pulling the drapes over the windows before he climbed into the bed behind me. I stiffened when his arms closed around me, my back to his front. I didn’t want another wolf at my back. Not today and maybe never again. The memory of what Brayden had done to me in that cell, and that he intended to do more, was too fresh.
Then I felt Lachlan’s lips brush over the scar tissue rapidly forming on my shoulder and it was too much.
I twisted, backing into the wall against the bed and shoving him at the same time. My breath came in rapid pants as I held my hands out between us.
“Don’t,” I whispered, holding on to my control by a thread.
The sadness in his eyes was too much. He pitied me and I couldn’t take it. I lashed out, my closed fist hitting his shoulder.
“Do not look at me like that,” I growled. “Don’t you fuckingpity me.” I spat the last words out because I hated the taste of them on my tongue.
I hit him again, rocking his body back on the mattress. Even now, seeing the way he was looking at me, I couldn’t bring myself to use the full force of my strength.
Lachlan’s hand lifted, curving around my face. When his thumb swept across my cheekbone, I felt the dampness he spread across my skin. I was crying again, the tears burning my eyes and blurring my vision.
“I don’t pity you, Chloe. I’ve never known anyone as fierce or as brave as you.” His eyes shone with sincerity as he spoke, his thumb still caressing my skin. “I just want to hold you while we sleep so that I know you’re really here.” He shook his head against the pillow. “Not want. Ineedto do it. I won’t be able to rest without knowing that I have you close.”
He didn’t try to force me closer, just moved his palm down my neck and curved his fingers around my shoulder, stroking my arm.
“Can we do that?” he asked. “Just lay here together?”
The fight left me then. He spoke of my ferocity and my bravery, but there was nothing left in me at that moment except exhaustion. I knew he wouldn’t push me. If I told him no, he’d let it go.
