Page 37 of Binding His Fated Mates

“It’s noted,” Reed said. Then grudgingly, he added, “And thanks.”

Topher frowned at him, then crossed the room to Robert, who stiffened at his approach, his eyes wide. Then the vampire crouched in front of him, and began speaking in a low, soothing murmur. Robert’s eyes went glassy almost instantly, his rigid posture loosening, the panic draining from his face. Within moments, he was calm and compliant, allowing Topher to help him to his feet and guide him toward the door.

I resisted the urge to shudder.

Once they were gone, Reed turned to me. The tremor in his hands was worse now. “Daniel, you said you can use that residue you collected to find whatever did this?”

“Yeah,” I said immediately. “I mean, I’ll need a minute to recover, but I can—”

“Absolutely not.” Hunter stepped forward, positioning himself between me and Reed, and for a wild second I thought he might actually take a swing at the alpha. But he didn’t raise his voice this time when he added, “He just passed out from the last spell, Reed.”

“Hunter,” I said firmly. “I can do this.”

“That’s the problem!” He rounded on me, and the look on his face was something I’d never seen from him before—not anger exactly, but a furious, desperate protectiveness. “You’ll do anything anyone asks you to! You’ll drain yourself dry if you think it’ll help, and you won’t say a word about the cost because you think you owe us something! But you don’t, Daniel! You don’t owe anyone a damn thing!”

The room went very quiet.

“We’ll do it tomorrow,” Lee cut in. His voice was mild, but his expression told a very different story. His gaze locked onto Reed. “Daniel will do the locator spell tomorrow, after he’s had a chance to rest.” He paused, glancing at me, and added, “If you’re up to it and willing? This is your decision.”

Thunderstruck, I nodded at him.

Lee continued, “Hunter and I will stay with him. If we find whatever did this to Robert, we’re not going to engage unless we have to. We bring the information back to the pack, so we can figure out what to do next.” He looked back at Reed, raising his eyebrows. “That’s the deal.”

Reed held Lee’s gaze, looking momentarily startled. I didn’t blame him—Lee was usually pretty easygoing and definitely not the type to try claiming authority in pack affairs. Ever.

But then, at last, Reed nodded. “Yeah. Sure. That’s fair.”

Then Reed turned to me. “I apologize for asking so much of you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” I said immediately. “This is what I’m here for. I want to help.”

Hunter made a sound that might have been a laugh if it weren’t so bitter. He glared at me—a long, searing glare that I felt all the way down to the marrow of my bones—and then he turned and stalked out of the bar, the door slamming shut behind him.

CHAPTER NINE || HUNTER

Imade it about three blocks before the adrenaline wore off and I realized I was shaking. I made it another two before I realized I wasn’t actually angry at all.

Sure, I was pissed at Reed for pushing Daniel too hard. And at Daniel for letting himself be pushed. Hell, for welcoming it. He’d already proven himself to the pack time and time again. I was furious that we’d put him in a position where he felt like he had no choice but to do a spell that was way too much for him.

I paused on the sidewalk outside the general store, my hands trembling and my chest tight, and the ugly reality of it crashed over me like a goddamn tsunami.

I wasn’t angry. I was terrified.

Because that was twice now. Twice in as many days that Daniel had almost died. First the fork that would have gone right through his skull. And then the electrical surge, which would’ve fried him to a crisp.

Hell, it was three times, if I counted the spell—the spell he’d cast alone, even though it had clearly been too much for him. Daniel may have been pathologically self-sacrificing—one hundred percent—but he wasn’t stupid. He must’ve known damn well that what he was doing could burn him out, and he’d done it anyway.

Because that was what Daniel did. He gave and gave and gave until there was nothing left to give, and he never once asked if the cost was worth it because he’d already decided he wasn’t worth protecting.

Even if it created a world without Daniel in it.

That thought hit me like a fist to the gut. I ducked into the alleyway between the general store and the bookstore, leaning against the brick wall, and tried to get my insides to unknot themselves. I sucked air in through my clenched teeth, waiting for the sudden vertigo to pass and the world to right itself again.

A world without Daniel’s stupid pen-chewing and his cluttered desk. His too-bright, too-fake smile. The way he locked in when he focused, letting the world fall away from him. The way he always seemed to be hugging himself, almost without realizing he was even doing it. Without the mate bond humming between us. Without the shared dreams that bound the three of us. Without the possibility that someday things might be different. Without the one person who had always understood me. Who had always at least acted like he cared about me, even when no one else ever really had. A world without the only man I’d ever been stupid enough to let myself love.

It was a world I didn’t want to live in.

I stood there for a long time, breathing, letting the shade of the alleyway cool my overheated skin. Gradually, the shaking subsided. And in its absence, another uncomfortable emotion crept in.