Mine.
Oh fuck.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jason’s heart thundered, the tell-tale sweet ache of a potential bond sitting behind his rib cage.
He’d imagined this day would be the best day of his life, he’d wanted this for as long as he could remember.
But as he stared into Daryl’s horror-stricken face, all he felt was utter devastation. As much as he’d welcome this bond with a huge smile and open arms, Daryl wanted nothing to do with it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. It wasn’t his fault—deep down he knew that—but right now, it sure as fuck felt like it. Daryl had hurt himself to save Jason and somehow triggered a potential bond. “So fucking sorry.”
For both of them.
This was going to hurt.
He’d witnessed first-hand the pain Rachel had gone through the weeks she’d spent without Sara.
But at least she’d known Sara would bond with her if she could. Jason had the added knowledge that Daryl didn’t want this, would never want it. Without thinking, he rubbed a hand over his chest, as if that would soothe the hurt. The scent of blood was getting stronger and it took him a moment to remember Daryl was injured. “Shit!” He traced the back of Daryl’s hand where the barbed wire punctured his skin. “We need to get you down from here so you can heal.” Daryl was strong enough to hold them both up by one arm for hours, but that had to hurt.
“Jason, I—”
“Shh.” He moved his fingers to Daryl’s lips. He knew what was coming and would rather not hear it with an audience. He didn’t think any of the others were aware that a potential bond had a distinctive scent, or if they did they wouldn’t recognise it. Well, he hoped.
Nathan and Rachel on the other hand . . .
“Let’s get down from here, and then we’ll talk. Later.”
“Yeah, okay.” Daryl winced. “I think my fingers are going numb.”
“You two coming down, or what?” Jenn yelled up to them, sounding curious. He wondered if she’d heard their conversation and put two and two together. Maybe the others had too, maybe they wouldn’t need to smell it on them. Either way, Jason didn’t want to have that talk here.
“There’s a key in my back pocket. Can you get it out and throw it down to Jenn?”
“Yeah, sure.” Jason retrieved the key and dropped it into Jenn’s waiting hands.
A few minutes later, they were being gently lowered. Jenn came over as soon as the cage settled on the ground, and Jason extricated himself from Daryl’s grip.
She took one look at Daryl’s hands and feet, then let out a low whistle. “Fucking hell, Daryl.”
She carefully peeled his hand off the top of the cage and then motioned for him to sit down. “What were you thinking? I know it would’ve sucked to fail the task, but Jason would only get sent home. It’s not like his life was in danger.”
“Jenn,” Jason cautioned.
She glanced between the two of them, eyebrows rising to her hairline. He saw the moment the penny dropped. “Really?” she hissed. Before either Jason or Daryl could answer, a familiar scent wafted into the clearing.
Great.
Now everyone would know.
AFTER CHECKING Daryl was healing properly, Alpha Cornell declared the task a success and requested that everyone return to the lodge where a celebratory lunch had been laid out, courtesy of the council.
Everyone, that was, except Daryl and Jason.
Jenn shot them a cautious glance, obviously wary of leaving them, so Jason gave her a nod.
Facing the alpha council was the least of his problems right now. Facing a pissed off Daryl, alone, back at the room, was a much more daunting prospect. No way they could come out of that without someone being hurt.
