“Does it matter?” Daryl raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t that the whole point of a bond?
“Not to some, no. But to you, I think it would.” She dropped her hand and stepped back. “So please, think carefully before you make any rash decisions. I’d hate for you to have to live with regret.”
Daryl opened his mouth to answer, then snapped it shut. He’d made his decision, but something in her eyes made him bite his tongue. “I will. Thank you.”
She nodded, her glance drifting up the stairs. “Tell Mr Black that he can use the room next door to the one you’re in now.” Her lips twitched. “It’s the only one on that floor that’s ready for guests.”
With that, she turned and headed outside.
Daryl stared after her, a little shell-shocked after her speech. Despite clinging to the fact he’d made up his mind already, her words ran through his head again and again.
“NEXT DOOR?” Jason repeated when Daryl went up to their room to tell him. “She couldn’t offer one a little further away?” He stood in the middle of the room, arms full of clothes, with his rucksack over his shoulder, suitcase at his feet, and looking as frustrated as Daryl felt.
“Apparently not.” Daryl remembered the twitch of her lips and suspected she was talking bollocks. Not that he would be so stupid as to call her on it or investigate any of the other rooms. “Do you need a hand with anything?”
“Nah.” Shaking his head, Jason met Daryl’s gaze briefly before looking away. “I can manage.”
He walked through the open door, pausing with a sigh and glancing over his shoulder. “See you at dinner, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Daryl swallowed. He was moving into the room next door, for fuck’s sake, not leaving the pack. It was what they both wanted.
Then why does it hurt?
Unconsciously, he rubbed a hand over his heart.
Jason caught the movement and offered him a small smile. “It’s the bond.” He shrugged. “The ache’ll go away after a while.”
The slight tremor to his voice made Daryl’s hands itch to reach out for him, but he curled his fingers into fists. He nodded once, not trusting himself to speak.
As the door to Jason’s room opened, then clicked shut, Daryl walked forward and pushed his own door closed. The soft snick of the lock, loud and mocking in the empty room.
He leant his head against the cool wood and closed his eyes.
Fuck everything.
Jason’s scent lingered in the air, but it wasn’t the same as breathing it in fresh on each inhale.
Daryl smacked his fist against the door, hating how out of control he felt, how he couldn’t seem to get a handle on his emotions. Suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but that room, wanted to go home, back to London. He needed the safety and comfort of his flat.
He needed his alpha.
Two quick strides had him across the room. Snatching up the landline phone, he dialled Cam’s number and then sank to the floor, waiting for him to answer.
“Cameron Harley.”
His voice alone soothed Daryl’s nerves, and he let out a soft sigh. “It’s me.”
In the two-second pause that followed, Daryl pictured his alpha, brows drawn together as he tried to work out why Daryl was calling. The heavy sigh made Daryl’s wolf curl in on itself. “Is this about you and Jason?”
“Yeah.” Daryl let his head knock back against the table. “Shit, Cam. How could I have been so fucking stupid?” He shoved a hand into his hair, gripping the strands for dear life, needing something to anchor him. “I can’t . . . I don’t know—”
“Daryl.” Alpha power laced his voice, the effect as powerful as if they’d been in the same room.
Daryl’s shoulders sagged, his breathing was still a little shaky, but he clung to the calmness radiating down the phone line. “Tell me what happened.”
“We did the track-and-rescue task today.” Remembering waking up to find Jason gone made his hackles rise even now. “They took Jason.”
Cam cursed softly, and Daryl automatically tilted his head to one side, baring his throat in supplication. He rolled his eyes when he caught himself, but the guilt remained.
