Page 88 of Blood and Trouble

The words drew me from sleep sometime around dawn, and I cracked my eyes open, wincing against the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. Ava’s head rested on my chest, her arm draped over my stomach, one of her legs entwined with mine. Magic whirled through my veins, and it took a moment for my brain to recalibrate and come back online.

Ava marked me.

I marked her.

Mate.

Mine.

I ran my palms over my eyes and sighed.

Fuck.

I’d let my wolf take over, let him run rampant through my worst impulses, and now we were screwed. When Lycan came back, he’d see what we’d done and…what? What would he do?

He couldn’t be mad about it, not when he refused to mark either of us, not when he didn’t want anything permanent. He’d said so himself. Several times. That didn’t make me feel any better. My gut churned, and my heart throbbed, and I chastised my wolf for getting me into this situation. But it hadn’t just been him. I’d been there every step of the way, and I winced to think about leaving Lycan out of it.

My phone buzzed from somewhere overhead, and I ignored it, choosing instead to hug Ava closer and dip my head to breathe her in. Gods, she smelled good. Like me and her and Lycan. Like hope and divinity, my own saving grace.

She stretched and blinked open her big, gorgeous eyes.

“Hey, there,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“Hey.” I pressed my lips to hers. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” She brushed her fingers over the mark on my neck, and I hissed in a breath. It was still tender, but my mated friends said the tingling never really went away, especially not when your mate touched it.

“Any more bad dreams?”

She pulled her lips into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No.”

“Good.” I’d sensed her fear and grief through the mating bond, and it had shaken me out of a dead sleep. It seemed too big, too old, like trying to fit a grand piano into a jewelry box. Almost like it came from a part of her that didn’t belong to her, which made me curious…and nervous. I wished she’d talked to me about it, but I understood someone wanting to keep the haunting confines of their own mind to themselves.

“How are you?” she asked, drawing my attention back to her.

“Okay.” I tried not to let my internal struggle show. I didn’t want her more stressed out than she needed to be.

“Did we make a mistake?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, running a hand over my face and back through my hair. “It’s too late now, in any case.”

She sat up and touched her own mark, curling her lips into a soft grin. “I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither.” I was surprised how true that felt. My wolf had known since the first time I saw her. The connection between us had been building, avalanching into something unmanageable. She must have known it, too. Her wolf responded to its instincts, and neither of us should feel ashamed of that.

“What do we tell Lycan?” she quietly asked, and her fear snaked through our immature bond like a cobra strike—hot and quick and venomous.

“The truth,” I said, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek. “He’ll see it. He’ll sense it.”

She tilted into the embrace, rubbing her face against my hand before kissing my wrist. Fuck, I wanted to take her again. I wanted to hold her down and make her moan and slot myself inside her for the rest of my life.

My phone buzzed again. Just as I reached for it, footsteps echoed on the grass outside, pounding up the steps to the porch. I shot to my feet and grabbed my jeans, shoving my legs into them as quickly as I could.

“Stay here,” I told her. She grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around herself as I walked to the front door, opening it before the intruder could knock.

Locust and Bow stood on the other side, putrid panic and gut-curdling adrenaline wafting off them.

“What is it?” I looked between them. “What happened?”