He shakes his head slowly, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
Frack.In hindsight, I probably should’ve picked asanePack member to make my point.
"If she wants to leave your bed, she goes," Knox snaps, staring Blaze down. "Don't fucking trap her."
Blaze reluctantly nods once.
"It’ll be fine," I whisper, more to convince myself than anyone else.
Viper leans in and presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, his fingers smoothing through my hair like a balm.
‘I’ll be here if you need me. If he makes one fucking threatening move against you, I swear…’he murmurs into the bond, his voice steady even as I feel the undercurrent of unease.
He squeezes my arm, the gesture reassuring, but I catch the tightness around his eyes.
There is a smear of red beneath one nostril where Blaze landed a punch in his jealous rage.
‘How are you so understanding?’I ask, awed and aching all at once.
He exhales, long and suffering, but releases me, pushing me gently towards Blaze.
‘They’re my brothers. My Pack,’he answers simply.
He’ll do anything for them… even this. Even sharing his Omega.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Halley
I get ready to sleep next to Blaze.
I feel like I should be donning armor and preparing for battle. Instead, I slip into the small bathroom and brush my teeth. I change into a worn-soft shirt that once belonged to Jason and a pair of shorts that I am belatedly realizing ride up in all the wrong places. Hardly battle gear.
The shattered mirror distorts my reflection in a spiderweb of cracks. My eyes are sunk deep into their sockets, but my face is flushed with the remnants of my arousal. It’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for a single provocation to roar back to life. I wash my face, letting the icy water soothe the heat from my cheeks.
I take a few deep breaths and steel myself for whatever frackery Sergeant Blaze is going to throw at me tonight. I’m not naive anymore. I know that he’s going to try something.
Back in the room, Blaze is standing beside his bed in only his underwear. The raw fury from earlier is gone, his scent dulled, his eyes no longer manic.
But the stillness is worse. Scarier somehow, and discontent buzzes beneath my skin.
He doesn't speak, just reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion.
I suck air through my teeth.
Ohhh.
The firelight dances across his bare skin, defining every sharp plane of muscle. My mouth goes dry, my thighs clench, and I hate how fast my body betrays me.
His mind might be a mess, but rut-damn, his body is a work of art. A brutal tapestry of scars. Somehow, I’d forgotten how many he has. Skin warped from burns so deep, even his Alpha healing couldn't repair the damage. I ache to trace them, to press my lips to every raised ridge.
A thrill shoots through me as I release a shaking exhale.
Is it wrong to lust after someone whose mind is so fractured he might kiss me or kill me in the same breath?
Probably.
The shameful hunger simmering inside me pulls me forward. I take a step, then another, drawn to him like a moth with a death wish.
