I need to be near him, to touch him, to smell him, even if he smells slightly wrong right now. He’s stillmine. I don’t care how fucking uncomfortable it is, the thought of not doing any of that for the next hour or so makes me want to claw my skin off.
But will it be okay for him?
Ignoring everyone else, I walk over to stand in front of him and deliberately touch the marks on my neck. “Will this bother you?”
He bares his teeth.
“I want to ride with you, Ineedto, but not if it’s going to hurt you to be that close to me.”
“It hurts me to fucking look at it.” He screws his eyes shut, blocking it out, and my heart sinks. “But you’re still mine,” he whispers, echoing my thoughts and capturing my gaze again. There’s a new fierceness to his eyes that grips my heart and yanks it back up. “Nothing can change that. Especially not fuckingBirch.” He holds out a hand. “You ride with me.”
“Well, all right then.” Flint claps his hands, but I don’t look at him.
I only have eyes for Lynx as I take his hand and let him lead me through the trees to where they stashed their bikes. I’ve never ridden on the back of one before, pretty sure it’s not thedone thing,but I don’t give a fuck, and neither does Lynx.
Yes, my wounds pull as I climb on behind him, the aconite making me slow to heal. I can already tell it’s going to be a long, uncomfortable ride back, but as we pull out onto the road and lead the way home, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
LYNX
“You’ve got ten minutes,” I grit out, already feeling the tug of separation. “Then I’m gone.”
We aren’t bonded. We aren’t even the samepack—a fact that cuts through me every time I catch his scent. But it makes no fucking difference. The need to be with Morgan is overwhelming. Goddess help me if we ever— No. I’m not going there.
“How’s he doing?” Flint asks, but everyone else around the table pays attention.
How d’you fucking think?I don’t say that though. They all know what he went through, and not one of them takes that shit lightly. “Better than I expected.” Then because I’m thinking it, I add, “Or maybe it’s not really sunk in yet.”
Jet lets out a low whistle. “Wouldn’t blame him. It’s a fucking lot to get your head round.”
He’s not wrong.
Kidnapped.
Bitten and turned against his will by the same cunt that left him for dead in the forest.
Then put in a fight ring and tortured.
I have to close my eyes and take a fucking moment.
Callum’s scent hits me before I feel hands on my shoulders, and I relax instead of snapping at him. He doesn’t say anything, just draws me in so our foreheads touch, and his fingers tighten, grounding me until the urge to kill something passes.
Then he returns to his seat as if nothing happened.
I open my eyes, but I’m met with nothing but understanding, and I almost buckle under the weight of it.
I love every fucker in this room, more than I can ever say.
“What about the other guy?” Mal asks, breaking the silence. “Has Corey finished with him?”
“Yeah.” I sit down, relieved to have something else to focus on, and this is an easy one to answer. “He’ll heal, but it’ll take time. They almost killed him in the ring.”
“What are we gonna do with him?” Jet this time. His face gives nothing away, and he has his scent locked down tight now.
This one’s a little harder to answer, because Luke’s important to Morgan. “I don’t know. For now, he’s not going anywhere. He’s still unconscious, so we’ll have a better idea about things when he wakes up.”
“You thinking about letting him stay?” There’s nothing in Jet’s tone that says he’s opposed to the idea, and a quick glance around the table tells me no one else is either. But it’s not my call this time.
I know Morgan wants him to stay, but it’s not up to him either.
