“Anything else, ma’am?” he asks, smile forced and not even sparing a single glance at the frustrated people grumbling behind me in line. Like he’s more scared of what Havoc will do to him than whatever they’ll attempt.
I’m pissed that a thrill shoots down my spine at the knowledge that my fated mate’s name carries that much weight, while equally loving in it. That love also comes with a heaping dose of reality, though, and that shithurts.
“Thanks.”
Taking my haul, I loop all the bags on my arms and start the arduous trek home. It’s only twenty minutes, but with the heavy load and all the icy patches on the sidewalks? It makes me really appreciate Devlin’s efforts. He’s busy doing… whatever the heck a Devlin does when he isn’t breaking into my house, and still, he finds time to make sure I don’t get hurt on my commute to and from work. He acknowledges his flaws and workswiththem to find solutions to ensure the people in his life aren’t neglected.
I just don’t understand what Havoc’s playing at. What does he gain by paying off my house and covering my groceries? Absolution for his guilt?
“He doesn’t deserve a single bit of peace if he can’t even find the courage to admit he fucked up and apologize,” I mutter to myself, feeling a little feral myself.
If Havoc thinks he’s going to storm into my life and take over now that it suits him? He’s in for one hell of an unpleasant surprise.
Chapter 23
Zayd
The cold hits me first, a full-body shiver nearly chasing away the last remnants of sleep. Groggily, I reach blindly for my mate. She must have rolled over during the night, but body heat is the only way to survive this horrible climate. My fingers brush against empty space, the blankets carrying her sweet scent long since cold. I jolt upright, fully awake now as my heart hammers in panic, searching the room. The smoky, metallic scent of the demon that crawled out of the walls yesterday lingers in the air, but he’s gone as well.
He took her. Right out from under my nose.
A red haze descends over my vision.
Over my dead fucking body.
The bloodlust hits me hard and fast, all-consuming, and I temporarily black out. When I come to, my heart sinks as I absorb the damage I did without recollection of a single moment of it. Deep slashes rake down the walls of the hallway, as if I were trying to claw the demon back out of them. EvenIknow that doesn’t make sense. If he were hiding my mate within the walls, I’d be able to scent her. Hear her.
I’ve been feeling more like my old self the last few days, able to hold onto my thoughts for longer stretches. The rage had all but been doused to a low simmer, as if simply breathing in the air around my mate was healing the damage. I clasp my head between my hands, bowing over in silent, futile desperation.
Ican’tgo back to the feral beast I was when she found me, need to keep my shit together. She deserves far better, a mate she’s proud to stand beside, and Iwillbecome that man again. But right now? She needs a sign I’m not a lost cause, and I’m not about to throw away what may very well be my only chance of redemption. She needs me; I can’t let her down.
Wincing at the bitter cold, I rummage through the house until I find some stretchy pants and tug them on, but they’re skin-tight and dig painfully into my waist.
Better than freezing my dick off again.
Tugging the blanket she slept under free from the nest, I wrap it around my shoulders. It’ll help break the wind, and hopefully, being surrounded by her scent will keep my mind clear long enough to find her. It’s the dark gaps in my memory that truly scare me. Having no control over my actions… gods only know what happens while I’m out of it.
It was the only way to survive the torture, retreating so far within my mind that I could disassociate and block out the agony my body was enduring. But even though I’ve physically escaped that hell, my mind hasn’t. Always on edge, waiting for the next blow to come, for the wave of blistering electricity to seize through my body. I’m trapped in a constant state of fight or flight, my veins filled with more adrenaline than blood at this point. I don’t know how to turn it off, but Ihaveto. Somehow.
Because Kiara’s waiting for me.
Feet burning from the frozen concrete, coarse salt biting into my flesh, I follow her scent until a wave of deja vu has me slowing my steps. Glancing over at a dumpster across a parkinglot, I frown, searching my memories. I get a few fractured snippets; pain, cold like I’d never felt before, a howling storm. Enough food to remind me I was starving, then… warmth. Softness.
“I’ll leave the back door propped open a bit so you can get in, okay?”
My heart races as I slowly piece together the memory of my mate saving me from death’s doorstep, like an angel of mercy.
She’s too good for this world. Can’t let anyone hurt her.
Determined, I stride forward, shoving open the door on the small building. Instantly, I’m enveloped in heat and practically groan in relief. Her scent is stronger now, and my muscles relax automatically. She’s here. No undercurrent of distress, just her normal bright, bubbly scent. My sweet, beautiful Kiara.
I track her down a hallway, other scents making it too muddled to clearly follow, and open every door I pass in search of her. A raccoon lunges for my face, and I hastily yank the door shut in the nick of time, a thud followed by angry chittering that makes me hasten my steps. Empty, empty, empty. On the fifth attempt I’m rewarded with the sight of my mate, and I practically bow over to brace myself on my knees with relief. The demon didn’t take her; there isn’t even a hint of his scent here. After the way my mate responded last night, treating him like he was hers? I’d hate to have to kill him. I actually respect the demon’s skills and appreciate the idea of Kiara collecting more mates to surround herself with, especially in my current state. All it takes is one of us to fail for her to pay the price.
Maybe I should search out a few contenders to introduce her to for consideration. If she were surrounded by a small army I could trust, maybe my damned feral instincts would release their chokehold on my system.
But all those musings screech to a halt when the faint traces of blood orange and leather have me on the verge of vomitingand I see a strange man touching my mate’s shoulder. A menacing growl tears up my throat with the force of a chain saw.
“Oh shit,” he breathes, yankingmymate behind his back. As ifIwere the threat she needed protection from.
