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“She alright?” I clipped, worry settling over me in a way I’d never experienced before.
“You don’t—”
“IS SHE OKAY?” I roared.
“Denver?” That was Valerie.
“Let me pass, Beau,” I growled. My body was tight with rage and fear. There were so many emotions running through me right now. Beau was being the man he was—kind of man I respected—but he was blocking me from my Enchantress. That was just pissing me off. “Move, or I’ll move you.”
He raised his chin. “You put your hands on her,” he hissed.
I ignored the stab I felt in my gut, the knife deep, piercing my organs.
The door behind Beau cracked open, and over his shoulder, I saw her step out. Her pretty dress seemed duller now. My eyes immediately went to her neck. It was red—dark red. I shoved Beau out of the way and went to her. My men where on my heels, staying close to protect her, and fuck, that made me feel good, knowing they would protect her, even from me.
She was the enemy weeks ago, but now she was family. She was mine and they knew it. My hands cupped her face in an instant, my thumbs brushing over her reddened cheeks. She wasn’t crying, but there was uncertainty in her eyes.
I didn’t like it, but somehow, I knew it wasn’t fear.
“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice quiet and low.
Her hands came up to my forearms, her touch sending jolts of electricity throughout my body, followed by an aftershock of calm. Her eyes bore into mine, searching.
“Smoke,” she whispered.
“Fuck,” I groaned, pulling her to my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her to me. Slowly, tentatively, her arms slide up to wrap around my shoulders. My eyes closed, and I focused on her warmth, her steady breaths.
“Dad?”
Caleb. Shit.
Did my son see the monster inside of me?
My eyes snapped open, and he was holding the door, a new book in his hand. His little brow was furrowed, and his gray eyes were on Valerie.
“Is Valerie okay?” he asked.
The woman in my arms pulled away from me. She turned to my son, and I stayed close to her. Fuck, I needed to have her near me.
“I’m okay, sweetheart.”
“What happened to your neck?” Caleb asked. The men around me tensed; I was still as fucking stone.
I put my hands on her.
Fuck.
I put my God damn hands on her.
Suddenly, I wanted to chop them off. I didn’t deserve to touch her, to feel her softness, my skin burning against hers. I was waiting for her to say it, to tell my son I am nothing but a monster.
A worthless man.
At least this time, she wouldn’t be lying. Not like Cathy. No, Valerie would tell the truth. My son would hate me.
He would hate me for my past.
He would hate me for my nightmares.
