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“He’s fifteen, Shane. He’s a teenager and living in a cell with four or five other wolves. And he also suffered and saw everything Minsi did. He’s closed off but in a teenage-rebellious way.”
“Damn it. I have to help them,” he said, his voice low.
“Shane, I’m helping them as best as I can.”
“I know, I know, but … Raika, I think there’s a big misunderstanding about what happened the night our pack was attacked. You seem to think I abandoned you—”
“Then how do you explain what happened?” I asked, my voice bitter. I hated him, even when my core, my soul, my heart yearned for him. I shook my head, reminding myself that was the bond. Not me. Not my real feelings.
He leaned into me again. I fought not to glue myself against the rocks behind my back. “I was spelled and taken by those damn witches. I saw the town burning as they dragged me away. Later, they confirmed my fears, saying Conri and his demons had killed all of you and burned the town to the ground. There were no survivors.” I stared at him, stunned. He went on. “The witches kept me in their dungeon where they tortured me, and—” He pressed his lips shut. He walked into a patch of moonlight coming from a gap in the trees. He opened his arms wide and I gasped. He still had the tribal tattoo that snaked across his side and up his chest, but more than that, now he had dozens of small scars across his torso, around his shoulders.
My fingers itched to reach up and touch them. “Dear moon,” I whispered.
He lowered his arms and stood right in front of me again. “Six months ago, I was rescued from the witches, and I didn’t come directly here because I thought there was nothing left … that there was no one left. If I had known, I would have come back right away.”
I stared at him, into his dark eyes. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to call him on his lie, but deep down, I knew he was telling the truth. “That sounds horrible.”
“It was, but you know what was worse?” His hand moved toward me, but he lowered it. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to see you again? To find out you’re alive?”
All right, now he was pushing it. “Why are you doing this? Don’t pretend you care.”
He flinched as if I had slapped him. “I care—“
“No, you don’t.” If he cared, he wouldn’t have pushed me away the moment the bond snapped. When his father found us a few minutes after, instead of telling his father about it and standing by me, he told me to run back home and hide. He had been ashamed to be mated to the lowest-ranked wolf in the pack. And that rejection, that knowledge, hurt almost as much as the rest. Pride welled in my chest and my temper rose. “You don’t care about me; you don’t care about your pack. You might care for Minsi and Tyren, but that doesn’t seem to be enough, does it?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
I lifted my chin. He had rejected me. Now it was my turn to reject him. “We don’t need your help, Shane.” I wanted to make him suffer like he had done to me. “Go back to where you came from and stay away from us.”
I pushed him back with all the strength I had. I crouched down to pick up my discarded metal nails, and fighting against the constant pull of the bond, I ran.
