“I know.”
“We need to increase patrols and tighten our perimeter. No one is allowed outside without at least two other wolves. That includes you, Jer.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about!” I snap. “It’s Evan! And Evelyn. It’s you! All of you!” I wave an arm. “Do you really think I put myself before you? Or the other packs? It’s my fucking fault you’re in this mess!”
Grant furrows his brows, then shakes his head. “We were in this before we ever knew you.”
“Yeah, Sasha died because of Foxx, remember?” Ivy says. “We fight forher.”She winces as she takes another breath.
Forest gives her a pointed look. “What happened to you?”
“Missed a jump,” she says. “Pretty sure I cracked a rib.”
“Then go shift!”
She sweeps her dark hair over one shoulder. “I had to make sure Jericho was okay.”
“Go,” Forest commands.
She gives me one more parting glance before leaving the room. Grant follows her.
“What happened here?” Evan asks, pointing to my arm.
I wince. I forgot all about that. “One of the vamps has daggers for fingernails. Cut me to the bone. But I’m fine.”
Evan scoffs. “You’re notfine.”
“I will be.” I already feel a thousand times better, thanks to the blood.
He steps in close, studying my face. Slowly, he reaches for my hand, like he needs that physical contact but isn’t sure if I can handle it yet. “Don’teverdo that to me again.”
Setting the glass down, I slide an arm around Evan’s waist to pull him close. His warm breath is a sweet caress against my cheek. When my hand bumps the gun in his jeans, I raise a brow. “Where’d you get this?”
“Grant gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“What do you meanwhy? If I’m going to be your boyfriend, I need a way to protect myself from all the crazies.”
My heart skitters, and I immediately forget all about the gun. “Boyfriend, huh? After one make-out session?”
Evan smiles. “It was a damn good make-out session.” He leans in like he’s going to kiss me again just as Evelyn enters the room. I turn away quickly, tipping my chin at the door.
Evan freezes when he looks over his shoulder. “Uh, hey.”
19
EVAN
My heart jolts when I see my mom, yet I can’t bring myself to let go of Jericho. Not after the last forty minutes wondering if he’s alive.
“Uh, hey,” I say awkwardly.
Mom’s eyes glint as they dart between us, and for a dreadful moment, I fear what she’s going to say. There is no denying what Jericho and I were about to do, especially with the way we were holding each other. Will she hate it? Reject it? She already doesn’t trust him as a vampire. I doubt she’ll like him as my boyfriend.
“I had to be sure you were okay,” she says simply.
I frown. Does she mean me or Jericho?
