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As soon as they entered the house and Eli closed the door, Vivienne tugged harder. When he didn’t release her, she looked up into those cold eyes. “Sloan, I’m not a child. Let go of my arm.”
He didn’t say anything, which she expected—she’d almost thought the man was mute—and she repeated her request.
“You say you’re not a child, but you just acted like one.” Vivienne wasn’t sure what surprised her more. That he’d spoken so many words at one time, or that she’d just been set down by a man she didn’t know.
Anger won out. Who the hell did he think he was? She’d been goaded. She had the patience of a saint, and Samia had completely crossed the line by licking her ear. She wasn’t going to justify it to him. She wasn’t a child, and Sloan, beta or theta or whatever the hell he was, was going to have to get that through his thick skull.
“Release me now.” Her voice was whiplash soft, and she held herself still.
“Or what? Will you use your powers to blast me as well?”
Vivienne yanked her arm, trying to dislodge him, but only succeed in hurting her arm. She winced as her arm began to throb and he slackened his hold.
“There are rules. You cannot go around—” he began in a calmer tone of voice but she was beyond listening.
“Get off of me!” she hissed, pulling her body away from him even as he held her arm.
***
Sloan blinked at the burst of strength and used his other arm to secure her. He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted her to listen. The fact that Samia had instigated the fight hadn’t gone over his head. He and everyone witnessing them had seen Samia touch Vivienne first, but she hadn’t drawn blood. The law would still favor Samia as Vivienne had drawn blood…again. Samia’s previous demand for a blood rite was still pending but with this new attack, it was almost definite she was going to get it.
“Vivienne!”
“No!” She pushed against him, shaking her head when he refused to budge.
“Sloan, maybe you should let her go. She doesn’t look so good.” Eli’s voice sounded far away.
***
She closed her eyes. There it was again. The darkness. It was clouding her mind, swarming her senses, and this time, weakening her body. A lock clicked, and what sounded like footsteps rushed into the room. She heard a curse, and pushed weakly at Sloan.
“Release…me.” To her own ears, her voice was whispery-soft, barely there.
Sloan was suddenly off her, and she heard a grunt and distinct thud, followed by swift curses as she fell backward, allowing the warm arms of darkness to ensnare her.
Chapter Twelve
Conall couldn’t find words to explain the rage overpowering his body. When Vivienne had projected her fear to him, he had been about half an hour away from Cedar Creek. After the call to Sloan, he’d driven like a maniac, cutting the journey down to fifteen minutes, and had stepped through his door to find Sloan holding his struggling and distressed mate.
He’d reacted immediately, rushing Sloan and throwing him up against the wall with such force the wall cracked.
Caught off guard, Sloan gripped his shirt, but gradually, he relaxed. Conall wasn’t appeased in the least. He slammed him into the wall again. A grimace touched Sloan’s lips, but he remained immobile, his eyes watchfully alert.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Vivienne whimpered somewhere behind him, and Conall briefly took his gaze off Sloan to look at his mate. She was on the floor unconscious, her head in Eli’s lap. A growl erupted in his chest at the intimate position, and he had to force himself to remember that Eli had caught her, broken her fall. Her breathing was even, but her mind…. Her mind was filled with garbled voices, whispers. It was all erratic. She’d suffered some form of trauma.
Conall’s vision blurred, and his grip on Sloan tightened.
“I didn’t hurt her, Conall.” Sloan’s voice was calm as he tried to rationalize what had happened. He shook his head slowly. “I was holding her—”
A growl escaped his lips as he returned his attention to Sloan. He’d been holding her? Why was he even touching her?
“Change!” he commanded, stepping away from Sloan and pulling at the expensive cream tie he’d donned with the three-piece navy blue suit. It was all coming off, and then he was going to physically explain to his beta why touching his mate was off limits.
Sloan held up a hand, as if doing so would succeed in calming the frantically stripping alpha.
“Conall, I didn’t—”
“CHANGE!”
“Oh, shit.” That was from Raoul, who’d just entered the room to find an unconscious Vivienne, a pissed-off, screaming Conall, and Sloan, looking extremely uncomfortable against the wall.
