“I don’t have any clean clothes,” I say, painfully aware of how exposed I am.
For a moment, he just stares, something hungry flickering in his eyes, before he blinks and turns away. “Beau packed some things,” he says, voice rougher than usual. “On the bed.”
I grab the clothes and retreat to the bathroom, heart hammering against my ribs. That look in his eyes... Was it real or just my feverish imagination?
The clothes are too big, comfy sweats and a T-shirt that smell new, but they’re clean and warm. I dress slowly, my limbs heavy with exhaustion and the growing heat under my skin.
When I emerge, Billy has created a makeshift bed on the floor using spare blankets from the closet. He’s shed his shirt, revealing broad shoulders straining against a simple black T-shirt, and the sight makes my mouth go dry.
“Feeling better?” he asks, not quite meeting my eyes.
“A little.” It’s not entirely a lie. The fever comes in waves, and right now, it’s receded to a simmer beneath my skin. “At least I don’t stink anymore. Sorry about that.”
Billy looks up at me, puzzled. “Don’t apologise for how my father treated you. Never. None of this is your fault.”
A lump forms inside my throat as I stare into his warm, brown eyes, fierce protectiveness shining right back at me.
“You should eat something.” He shakes his head slightly, breaking the trance we’re caught in, and gestures to store-bought sandwiches and a pile of energy bars on the nightstand courtesy of Beau. “Keep your strength up.”
I sit gingerly on the edge of the bed, unwrapping a bar. It tastes like sawdust, but I force it down, along with half a bottle of water.
Billy watches from across the room, his back against the wall, a careful distance between us.
“Why did you really help me escape?” I ask suddenly. The question has been burning in me since he unlocked my cell. “You’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”
He stiffens, his dark eyes finally meeting mine. “I told you. It was the right thing. I’ve wanted to get out for a long time, you were just the push I needed.”
The push.
I hold his gaze. “You betrayed your father. Your clan. For me?”
His jaw tightens, a muscle working beneath the scruff of his beard. “My father was going to kill you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
The husky growl in his voice senses a pulse of need straight to my core. My breathing quickens, and I twist to face him.
“You barely know me. And I’m not the first person he’s kept there. Why now?”
“I know you.” His voice drops, growing rough. “I know you’re strong. Brave. Loyal to Grey Ridge, to your sister, even after what happened with your pack.”
I blink, surprised he even remembered the details I shared during our brief conversations. She might have screwed me over, but she was always a lost soul. I thought I could bring her home.
“I know you didn’t deserve what happened to you,” he continues. “And I don’t want to be a man that turns a blind eye to what he does anymore. I couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. And definitely not you.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten.
My wolf surges forward, desperate to close the distance between us. I fight her back.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Not just for me.”
He might be here helping me escape, but he’s also tipped off Grey Ridge that Leon has something planned for the conference. Hopefully, they’ve been able to stop him.
The silence that follows feels charged, electric. I’m acutely aware of his breathing, his scent, the slight shift of his weight ashe leans against the wall, and the corded muscles in his tanned forearms as he presses his hands against the paint behind him.
The fever rises again, bringing with it a gnawing ache deep in my core. I curl my fingers into the bedspread, fighting for control.
His eyes track the movement.
“You should sleep,” Billy says, voice strained, eyes still fixed on where I cling to the covers. “Tomorrow we’ll head to Grey Ridge, get you safely to your pack.”
