Home
Warren
I unlockthe door and step inside, closing it carefully behind me. The house is dark, lights off, and the air is still. The only noise is the faint tick of the thermostat cycling somewhere down the hall. Everyone is clearly asleep.
Good.
Taking a second, I inhale the familiar scents of home and exhaustion hits all at once. Walking across the living room, my legs suddenly feel very heavy.
The rage that had been fueling me all night is gone, leaving me completely drained.
I make it halfway up the stairs when I feel the trickle of blood move down my fingers. I pause and tug off my dirty T-shirt, the fabric stiff with dried sweat and Zack's blood. I wrap it tightly around my injured hand, tucking the end in to secure it. I want to keep the droplets from spattering on the pristine hardwood.
I walk around the landing, then down the hall, heading for Cass’s room.
Eager to talk to him, I ease his door open enough to see inside.
The room is dark, curtains pulled, the only light coming from the soft glow of the clock on the nightstand. Cass’s naked body is stretched along one side of the bed with Tansy tucked in close against him, the sheets tangled low around their hips.
Tansy is asleep, her face soft and relaxed, breath slow and even. One of Cass’s arms is draped over her waist, holding her steady. She looks completely at ease there, curled against him, safe and unguarded in a way that makes the room feel quiet and settled.
A brief hint of jealousy tightens in my chest. It’s swift and gone almost as quickly as it shows up.
I feel like I’m missing so much.
Cass was right. Being in charge of everything is bullshit.
I ease the door shut and let it latch, the click barely audible. I stand there for a moment with my hand still on the knob, my head crowded with too much noise. I want to talk to my pack alpha more than anything, to get some of this chaos out of my system, but I don’t want to risk waking Gray or Tansy.
Whatever I need to say can wait until morning.
My knuckles throb once again, and I release the doorknob.
I reach my room and push my way inside. The lamp on the dresser is already on, casting a low yellow light across the space.
Beck is asleep in my bed, sprawled on his stomach with one arm flung out and his face turned into the pillow. I’m so happyhe’s here.
I desperately need the comfort.
Moving carefully, I set my car keys on the dresser next to some loose change and a couple of folded receipts. Then I slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. The light clicks on, too bright at first. I brace my hands on the counter and look up at my reflection.
I look fucking rough.
My eyes are dark and blown out with lingering rage and adrenaline. Dark flecks of blood are splattered across my forearms and dotted along my neck.
And my hands…
I unwrap my right hand, then frown. The knuckles are split and swollen, the skin red and shiny, dried blood cracked along the creases.
Beck lets out a soft hum in the other room, and I push away from the sink. It takes me seconds to strip off the rest of my clothes.
I reach out and slide open the glass shower door. The track rasps softly as it moves, then I step inside and crank the water to scalding.
A cold spray hits me square in the chest, before slowly warming up.
I bow my head under the spray, watching red swirl down the drain, washing away the evidence of the night. Once the water is scalding, I wash my hair, then scrub my skin raw, letting the heat seep into my muscles, trying to cleanse the violence from my system before I crawl into bed next to Beck.
I desperately need to hold my sweet beta.
