Page 18 of Predator

“I guess that’s why my grandmother really thought handing me over to you as the beast was a sacrifice.” I say it light-hearted, but I kind of mean it. “Not because I could’ve died?—”

“I never would’ve harmed you,” vows Lucas.

I pat his naked thigh. “I know, babe. Well, not then, but I know now. Still, if Marie really hated the idea of her granddaughter being with the Alpha of the pack, that explains a lot of things.”

Just not the coincidence that Jolie was hunted down the night she was meant to bond with Lucas.

Unless—

“Remy was like that, too,” I remember. “He seemed so insistent that he get a shot with me. Never gonna happen, trust me, but that would explain why he went after Tristan the other night.”

The moment his name is out of my mouth, Lucas goes still. The hum of the bond stretching between us quiets, too, as though he’s purposely concealing his emotions from me.

No need, babe. The way his features sharpen when I glance over at him gives him away.

My mate is jealous of his Beta.

I shouldn’t push it. I really shouldn’t, but just mentioning him reminds me of our last meeting.

The last time I saw Tristan, he was his wolf. He had been set upon by Remy, and while he gave as good as he got, Tristan had his fangs to protect him against a silver blade and that was all. Remy stabbed him, he went down, and I could’ve sworn he was dead before he vanished, leaving me alone with the witch before he turned on me instead.

“How is he?” I bite down on my bottom lip. “He never came to visit me when I was…” What’s the best way to describe these last two weeks? I gulp. “You know.”

A shadow covers Lucas’s expression; it’s not his glower, but it’s close enough. “That was on my orders. He needed to heal.”

“Heal?” “From the fight.”

“He ran on an injured leg,” Lucas explains. “As shifters, we can heal a lot.” He taps his throat, drawing my attention to my bite. I still flinch when I see it—and hope that I’ll get over that eventually if only because I know it bothers Lucas—before he reaches out, taking my arm in his hand. With his other, he runs his pointer finger down my inner forearm. “This should’ve been our first clue you were more than you seemed.”

I don’t get it. “There’s nothing there.”

“Exactly. But two full moons ago, Marie cut you with a silver blade. If you were fully human, you’d have a scar. If it wasn’t silver, the wound would’ve gone by morning. Since it was… you had a mark for a week or so, then it was gone.”

And I never even paid attention to that.

“Remy stabbed Tristan with a silver knife. That was two weeks ago. Isn’t he better now?”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. “He’s… better.”

I don’t like the way he says that. “But not completely? Is that why I haven’t seen him since their fight?”

“For the most part.” I wait, and he huffs out a breath. “I told him to heal, and he did. But once he felt he had, he’s been combing the woods.”

“For what?”

His look tells me I should know.

“Remy?” I guess.

“Yes,” confirms Lucas. “I couldn’t go after the witch again, but he’s my Beta. He insisted. He refuses to stop searching for the witch until he can find him, but it seems as though he’s up and disappeared.”

Good riddance. Though that does make me ask, “So that’s it? The curse is over, but the wolves and witches are still at war?”

“He hurt my Beta. He hurt you. Marie didn’t step in to control her witch. She’s stayed to her coven, completely abandoning you once word spread around Winter Creek that you shifted.”

I take that as a ‘yes’, then.

I’m not too upset about that. If I knew that all I had to do to get the witches off of my back was fuck Lucas and let him bite me—and that I’d get a gorgeous, devoted mate out of it—I would’t have wasted any of my damn time.