Page 25 of The Warrior's Captive

That caught him like a punch straight to the jaw. It came out of nowhere, breaking the somewhat tense silence. He’d thought she was going to want to talk about what they’d done in the hotel room. How it might change things.

He didn’t have a fucking clue how to answer that if she did. He was trying to figure it out for himself. He shouldn’t have touched her, but he’d lost it. He’d never felt so mad for anything in his life. It was more than just wanting her. It was like she was an antidote to a poison that was slowly eating away at him from the inside out.

He couldn’t offer her forever. He couldn’t offer her half of what she hoped for. But she knew that. He’d made that clear. Hadn’t he?

He’d taken her virginity like a beast, even if he hadn’t known that’s what he was doing. He’d still watched her crawl on top of him and he’d let her. He’d fucked her and tasted her. He’d bathed her and held her. She was precious and he knew she couldn’t belong to him. Something so soft was all wrong for someone as cold and hard as he was.

“Will you tell me about him?” she asked without pressuring him. She left space there for him to say no, and he knew that if he did, she wouldn’t press him.

He was afraid to talk about it. Where did his thirst for revenge go? Why did no one warn him that it would hurt this much to allow himself to feel anything? Why had no one told him that it could break him? That it was the ultimate weakness? It was never laid out for him like that in words, but he could see why his pack chose practicality, training, and hard discipline over a soft touch. Vengeance could warm a body just like whatever he felt for Briar May.

He hadn’t felt anything like it before. It made him feel warm and stupid, and he knew that was a weakness. Anything less than total focus could get them killed. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. Vengeance could make a person blind, and that was equally as wrong as letting that strange buzzing in his head bloom into anything more. He had to tuck it away.

“It didn’t truly sink in with me when you told me at that farmhouse. That was wrong. It was insensitive. You’re in pain, Castor. I don’t like that you’re hurting. You’re hurting because of my pack, and I don’t know how to make it right.”

“I’m not,” he snapped curtly. His hands tightened on the wheel.

“Yes, you are. You didn’t come all this way because losing your brother meant nothing.”

“An eye for an eye. That’s how our pack lives. We always have. That’s why I came.”

“You came because you loved him. He was a part of you.”

“He was my twin.”

“Oh my god.” She choked on a sob. He didn’t realize that she was going to cry, but she was. She threw one hand over her mouth like she could press the sadness back in. The other thumped herself in the chest. “The two warriors. Your tattoo.” He didn’t dare turn and look at her. If he saw her tears, he’d need to pull over. He’d need to take her in his arms. He’d need to kiss them away. He’d need her because having her close made it hurt less for him.

He was a bastard. What she needed him to do was to keep driving her to her pack. To safety. They were getting closer now. Not more than an hour. He had to be hypervigilant. His pack was hunting him. They might never have left the area, hoping he’d be back. Maybe they were watching and waiting to take someone else to use as a hostage. If they thought Briar May was his mate, they’d want to hurt him in any way they could, and hurting the pack would get to him because it would devastate her. Also, her pack was looking for her. They didn’t know that he was bringing her back. They didn’t know anything of what transpired between them. He could count himself lucky on that score. If her brothers or her father knew that he’d taken her honor, they’d kill him on sight.

He had to say something. The silence was a brittle thing, the air like lead in the car. “He was a part of me. We went to war together.”

“I don’t know what to say, Castor. I do know what happened and why, but I’ll never give up the one who did it. I can’t do that because like your brother was to you, he’s a part of me. He’s not just my pack—he’s my family. I can tell you he was banished for life and no one from my pack even knew about it until it was too late.” She paused, and he considered her words. He could sense that what she was telling him was the truth, she wasn’t trying to make excuses or tell lies. “My father was alpha at the time, and he never would have allowed it. We don’t just… we don’t kill people. The one who did it acted alone. He was mad with grief. The Rangers have rules. I don’t know if you know that? No attachments, no mates.”

He let the question hang unanswered, right now she wanted to offer him comfort by telling him about his brother. It might hurt, he might know how Pollux died, but he wanted to know why.

Briar May continued, “He loved a woman who was a member of their pack. They killed her brutally for breaking their code and dumped her body on our land. She was in wolf form, and they’d tortured her like that. They cut off her paw and stuffed it in her mouth. We didn’t know who she was, but we buried her in our pack burial grounds and gave her a ceremony. We didn’t know until it was too late that she was a mate of one of ours. When he found out what happened, he went crazy. There was no stopping that kind of bloodlust. In your pack, are wolves like that? Like they are just mad with it? In both forms?”

Castor saw his mother, bleeding out before his eyes. His father hadn’t gone mad. He’d buried his grief and he’d acted on it. Turned it into a bloodbath and vengeance. No one in his pack ever acted like a madman. They were cold and ruthless, they were used to death. Grief never drove them to the brink because they didn’t know how to love like that. Or was it because they were seasoned against feeling any emotion too greatly?

“For us, the greatest achievement has been staying alive. Existing. Not getting stamped out. A lot of what we’ve done in our lives was born from necessity.”

That didn’t answer anything. That didn’t excuse anything.

“Will you tell me one thing that brings you joy? I know it’s not the right time to ask, but I just need to know. One thing that makes you happy or comforts you.”

He turned slightly and saw the dreamy look in her eyes that nothing was going to kill. What was he thinking of touching her? What did he have to offer her? He was a contract killer. He’d led the kind of life where regular people would say he got fed tragedy from the time he was a baby and shake their heads, offering up a sighed no wonder he turned out how he did. Soiled. Sullied. Wrong. Briar May would always be in danger with him.

“Food,” she pressed. “I haven’t seen you eat anything. Or drink. You made sure I had everything, but you haven’t worried about yourself. You almost bled out. You’re just a person, Castor. You have to have a favorite food. You have to eat. And grieve and love.” She sounded heated and a little desperate. Like she was trying to convince herself. They were close now. Only an hour or so from her pack. Things were absurdly dangerous. He had to keep his head, not talk about the mundane things that normal people thought were important.

I eat to stay alive. I don’t love because nothing in this world lasts. I grieve like I live, rough, and then I tuck it away and get on with survival because that’s the only way to exist.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” he snapped. “We’re running for our lives, not living out a fantasy.” He had no right to drag this woman down with him. Even in the best case scenario, he’d be dragging her all the way to hell with a millstone tied around her pretty neck.

“I know what you’re doing,” she snapped. Her hand shot out to his leg, and she squeezed like she could make him stay, like she could suspend the moment. She squeezed so hard and tight that her nails bit into his leg through the thin fabric dress pants. “You think unkindness and hardness will drive me away, but you’re wrong. You think that just because we’re close to my pack, you can wash your hands of me and go off and face the world alone again. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“You don’t know anything about me, and you know even less about how the world works.” Hurting her burned like acid in his gut. He’d done a lot of shit in his life, and he’d stomached it, but this bothered him. This made him feel sick. She was so pure and innocent and didn’t deserve to be sullied with the dark shit that followed him around, permeating every facet of his life.

“I can learn.”

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