“No, but?—”
“Did Hyde hurt her? Threaten her? Show any sign of violence?”
He thought back to that night, to Hyde’s enormous hands cradling Chloe’s belly, and the fierce protectiveness that had filled him.
“No,” he admitted.
“Then what are you so afraid of?”
“That next time will be different. That I won’t be able to stop it. That I’ll—” His voice broke. “That I’ll destroy the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
Flora’s expression softened. “Oh, my dear boy. Don’t you see? You’ve already destroyed it. Not through violence, but through fear.”
He sank into a chair, all the fight draining out of him. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Go to her.” Flora put a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder. “Before this storm hits, and make sure she’s safe. And while you’re at it, maybe you can let yourself have what you both want.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is.” Flora squeezed his shoulder. “But the complicated things are usually worth it.”
She left as abruptly as she’d arrived, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the sound of wind picking up outside.
A blizzard with Chloe alone in that cabin. He told himself she’d be fine. The cabin had a generator, and she had her phone. She could call for help if needed. Except what if the cell towers went down? What if the generator failed?
What if she went into labor?
Stop it, he told himself.I’m catastrophizing again. She’s fine. She doesn’t need me, and she definitely doesn’t want me there after what I said.
But Hyde was pushing restlessly against his skin, not angry but worried.
He paced his kitchen as the wind rattled the windows. Then he tried to focus on patient files, on anything other than the image of Chloe alone and potentially in danger.
By noon, the first snowflakes were falling.
By two o’clock, the wind had picked up to a howl.
By four, he couldn’t see across the street.
He stood at his window and watched the snow pile up with terrifying speed. Already several inches had accumulated and the forecast called for the storm to continue all night and into tomorrow. Three feet of snow with drifts potentially twice that high. And her cabin was on a dead-end road that wouldn’t be plowed until the main routes were clear.
She’s fine, he repeated like a mantra. Perfectly safe. She doesn’t need me to rescue her.
But his hands were shaking again, and this time it wasn’t from the suppression formula.
He grabbed his phone and stared at her contact information, his thumb hovering over the call button. But what would he even say?
I know I told you we couldn’t be together and broke your heart, but there’s a storm coming and I’m worried.
She’d probably hang up on him. She’d certainly have every right to do so. He set down the phone. Then picked it up again. Put it down.
Hyde was prowling now—pacing inside Victor’s mind with increasing agitation. The guardian sensing that something was wrong. Sensing a threat to their mate. Their baby.
Not ours, he corrected automatically. Not our anything.
But he couldn’t convince himself. He’d spent seven days trying to convince himself that leaving her was right, and that putting distance between them was necessary for her safety.
Seven days of misery for both of them.
