Page 23 of Moonlight & Mayhem

“Bossy,” he grumbled.

“Mayhem.” He sat. Moon grabbed her grandmother’s journal and flipped through the pages. There, she found a passage she had skimmed before that suddenly made sense. She read it twice, and then a third time.

“What?” Mayhem asked.

Moon swallowed. “The carrier weakens when separated from the intended vessel.”

“That sounds bad,” he said.

“It gets worse,” she warned.

“Of course it does.”

She looked at him. “The closer the bond becomes, the more stable the carrier becomes.”

Mayhem’s eyebrows lifted. “Closer how?”

Moon’s face warmed and his mouth curved. “Oh.”

“Don’t,” she warned.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, feigning innocence. She knew that he was anything but.

“You were going to,” she said.

“I definitely was.”

She glared at him. “This is serious.”

“I know.” His humor vanished. “What happens to the vessel?” Moon looked back at the journal. That was the line she hadn’t wanted to read aloud. “Moonlight.” She hesitated. “Tell me,” he pushed.

“The ritual transfers the corruption through the bond,” she whispered.

Mayhem went utterly still. “It transfers into you?” he asked. Moon nodded. “No.” The word came out as a growl, and Moon closed the journal.

“We don’t even know if this is the same thing,” she insisted.

“No, I won’t let that happen,” she said.

“Mayhem—” she started.

“No.” He stood. Moon’s wolf recoiled from the violence suddenly pouring off him. “If getting close to me puts that shit inside you, then we’re done.”

Her heart stopped. “What?”

“No bond,” he growled.

Moon stared at him. “No claiming, no mating, nothing.”

A strange pain opened in her chest. “That’s your solution?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You don’t get to decide that by yourself,” she insisted.

“Watch me.”

Moon’s anger exploded. “You arrogant bastard. You just stood there and told me I wouldn’t have to give myself up for you.”