Chapter Forty-Two
Elena foundLogan in the gym, beating on a punching bag secured to the floor and ceiling. He hit it with so much force it jerked against the bolts holding it in place. When he spun and kicked it, the bolt in the ceiling tore out; the bag and the elastic holding it in place hit the wall with a loud thud.
She winced, almost feeling sorry for the bag as Logan stood there with his shoulders heaving. His back hunched forward, and she assumed the gray tank top he wore was going to tear across his flesh, but it somehow remained in place.
They were alone in the gym, thankfully. If anyone else had seen what he did, he might end up locked away like Leonardo and Diego. When she strode toward him, he lifted his white-blue eyes to hers.
The violence etched onto his face caused her step to falter, but then she threw back her shoulders and approached him with a confidence she didn’t feel. Normally, he’d never harm her, but it was clear he wasn’t in complete control of himself.
When she stopped in front of him, her gaze fell to his fisted hands. Her heart plummeted when she saw the hint of black coloring seeping across the backs of them. A viselike grip choked the air from her as she gawked at that coloring.
Had he somehow gotten their blood on him? Was he likethem? Was she going to lose him?
The possibility was more terrifying to her than the idea of Leonardo and Diego escaping. She loved him too much to lose him.
“Logan, no,” she breathed.
Logan frowned at the devastated tone of her voice and the tears swimming in her eyes. “What is it?”
When he stepped toward her, the color faded from his hands. Elena blinked in confusion at his hands. Had she imagined the color being there?
But no, she hadn’t. She waspositiveshe’d seen it, so what was going on here?
He stepped toward her and rested his hands on her shoulders. When he’d lifted his hands, her gaze had remained riveted on them. She winced a little when they settled on her shoulders but didn’t try to pull away from him.
“Elena, what is it?”
“Your hands… they were… they were black, like Leonardo’s and Diego’s.”
Shit.He hadn’t realized he’d lost that much control of himself. Removing them from her, he shook his hands out before rotating his shoulders back a few times to loosen up his body.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “It’s something that happens to purebred vampires and at least some turned hunters too, or at least to me. I’m not like Leonardo and Diego. They couldn’t talk to you like this. Look at me; I’m in control of myself.”
Elena studied him carefully. What she’d seen had sent her adrenaline into hyperdrive, but he did seem to be in control. He certainly wasn’t as crazed as Diego and Leonardo. His eyes had resumed their pine green color, and he didn’t have black spreading throughout his body.
Still, something wasn’t quite right, and she knew it.
“Why did you have that black color on your hands if you’re in control?” she asked.
Logan dragged a hand through his sweaty hair. “Okay, maybe I’m not incompletecontrol.” As much as he’d like to keep it from her, he couldn’t lie to her. “But I’m not like them.”
“Are you going to become like them?”
“No.”
“Are you going to lose control?”
He hesitated before replying. As much as he’d like to tell her that he’d maintain perfect control no matter what happened, it wasn’t the truth. He had no idea what would happen to him if she decided not to become his mate.
He was loath to add more pressure to her. She already had enough going on without him heaping more onto her, but he didn’t know how to answer her.
“Logan?” she asked with a small crack in her voice.
“I hope not,” he admitted honestly.
“But you could?”
“Yes.”
