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Abby hissed and clawed at him, her eyes wild as the beast came toward her. She scooted backward on the bed, still crouched as if any second she was going to leap through the air.
I held my breath.
Simian’s padded paws made no sound on the floor as he inched closer until his knees touched the mattress. Abby screamed and tried to dart past him, but despite his size, he was quick and agile. He grabbed her forearm and dragged her up against him. She struggled, her fists pounding on his chest.
“Simian.” I hoped like hell my Ink wouldn’t snap her neck.
He turned toward me, and for an instant, I thought I saw emotion from him, which was something Simian lacked—aside from hatred. He always looked the same, mean and cruel, with a hate-on for females. But when I looked into his eyes, I noticed uncertainty and something else. Remorse? Could Simian feel that emotion?
He wrapped his arms around Abby to control her struggling, burying her head into his shoulder to quiet her screams. His large paw-hand stroked the back of her head. Then he did something I had never seen before—he licked the side of her face.
Holy fuck.
“Tell him to shackle her, Damien,”Waleron said.
“Simian, Abby is sick. We must help her. I need her shackled so she doesn’t harm herself.” I tried to use a calm approach with the way my Ink was acting. For some reason, Simian was protective of Abby, which could be beneficial or completely backfire.
Abby was quiet now, her limp body up against Simian’s as he continued to stroke her head. Come on, Simian. For once, don’t be a fuckup.
He slowly lowered Abby onto the bed then, with careful hands, placed the chains from the bedposts around her wrists. I noticed how gentle and caring he was, as if he knew she’d react if he handled her roughly.
“Get him to cover her face,”Waleron said.
I nodded. What we were doing was to save her life—if we could. Abby was dangerous right now. Starving and needing blood so badly that she’d kill anyone to get it. Luckily for us, she was also weak and confused.
“Cover her face, Simian.”
Simian grabbed the pillow, pulled off the pillowcase, and tossed the pillow aside. He went to lower it over Abby’s head when she rebelled, flinging against the chains, her screams piercing. Simian backed away, his eyes wide and filled with—fear. Fuck. My Ink didn’t have that emotion. What the fuck?
“Yes, it’s fear,”Waleron confirmed, “but it’s for her safety. Simian has been with you these past months and has grown close to her.”
“But that’s—”
“Nothing is always as it seems, Damien. You know that as well as I. You’ve been vulnerable—Simian has felt that. He can rise from sleep enough to know what is going on around him. Call him to you,” Waleron said.
It made me nervous about the connection he held with Abby. “Come to me, Simian. Rest. Sleep. Be one with me.” I raised my hand, palm upright, and felt the stirring of heat in my skin as Simian moved toward me obediently.
He almost made it, his form changing to the white light and shimmering for several seconds, as if uncertain. But when Abby thrashed against the chains and gave a high-pitched scream, Simian pulled back from the light and went into form again.
“Fuck.” Now what?
Simian leapt to Abby and she calmed.
Waleron raised his brows. “We either kill her or your Ink keeps her controlled. She needs to be taken back to the Talde house.”
