Page 19 of The Alpha's Arranged Bride

He’d lay all the blame at his own feet.

He’d feel, above all, the heavy weight of responsibility that he bore for the dead and those who had survived. The men she’d driven in that SUV with the night she’d first gone to Arizona, all those people in the cave, the children she hadn’t met… were they all gone now?

Agnar wanted to speak with her, but what could she offer but more horrible silence?

Chapter 9

Agnar

Prairie Rose entered the small cabin without wrath or anger but drenched already in sorrow. There was only one bedroom in the back and a living room, kitchen, bathroom that were all basically one room, the bathroom with a thin wall and a door between the rest. Someone had hastily thrown wood into the metal stove in the kitchen, and it was slowly warming up. He could no longer see his breath in the air.

It was midday, but a storm was howling outside. The weather was brutal, but not nearly as difficult as their journey north.

Crystals of snow clung to her long white-blonde hair, gleaming like hundreds of stars in a dark night sky. She had a thick black jacket on which went all the way down to her knees. It stabbed him in the already aching pit of his chest that she’d thrown it on over one of those long dresses she always wore. When she moved, he saw a flash of her black leggings underneath as a concession to the cold. Impractical, but still as beautiful as one of those desert flowers he’d never hold in the palm of his hand again because that land was lost to him.

She paused, taking in the state of him before she flung herself across the room. Her hands hovered at his face, and he wondered how mad he must look with the dried blood, the scrapes and cuts, the bruises, the black eye, and his broken nose. Her fingertips stayed just out of reach, shaking.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and her voice grew hoarser with every word, shredded by her frayed emotions.

He needed to say what he’d planned to tell her and leave. Get out before the sight of her and the scent of her was too much for him. He inhaled too sharply, his lungs pressing against his battered ribs. He’d probably cracked a couple, but so what? He was alive when others were dead.

The realization had slammed into him after he and the other men fought until they were sure that whoever could escape already had. He’d let his men retreat and he’d covered them. He should be dead, but he wasn’t.

They’d let him live. Alexander wanted him alive. For the rest of his years, he’d live with what had happened. The deaths. The blood. The failure.

He stepped back and away from his mate’s shaking hands. She studied him with shimmering eyes. A question burned in those depths. Why? Why won’t you let anyone help you? You’re hurt. You need to be treated.

“I asked for you because I have something I need you to promise me.”

She tensed, her hands dropping to her sides. They flexed there and then balled into fists. He imagined her digging her nails into her palms to try and compose herself. She didn’t speak. Didn’t give her word before she knew what it was, she was putting her vow to.

“I need you to look after my sons. I know they’ll be loved here. I might have mated you for peace, but a fate I don’t believe in chose you. It was the kindest thing that has ever been handed to me. You’re a good woman. You have a soft heart. I scoffed at that before, but I know now that you were made this way because my sons have to follow a different path. Because of you, they’ll live and thrive. They’ll grow into good men. You can choose their path now. You’ll guide their future.”

Her face collapsed. “What? I don’t understand. You’re here. You’re going to stay here.”

“No. I won’t stay. I can’t stay. I have nothing left of my pack. I’m no longer alpha. I’m a beaten man.” He finally raised his hands and let her see. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t, because all she could see was the blood. He’d refused any aid along the way. He’d seen the remainder of his pack to safety, but he didn’t need aid. He wouldn’t wipe away or wash away the evidence of his sins.

Her eyes were smoky and wet, fire burning on water. “I don’t understand.”

“They let me live. Alexander wanted me to endure this. He wanted me to know that I was the alpha who lost. Who failed. A warrior emasculated. He wanted me to spend the rest of my days purposeless, knowing how unworthy I am. He wanted me to know that I led my pack straight to their slaughter. That through mercy and softness, I dug their graves. They set on me and I fought them off until I couldn’t stand any longer. I would have died fighting, an honorable death, but they let me go. Not before they chewed through the tendons in my hands. They know I won’t go to any hospital. It’s dangerous for a shifter, there will be no surgery. I’ll never hold a weapon again. They took the pack from me, our lands, our home, but they took this from me too. I can no longer defend and protect my family, let alone anyone else. I have lost everything. I am an unfit mate. You need to reject me so I can leave.”

He’d expected disgust, and an immediate rejection when Prairie Rose found out how emasculated he’d been. He was no longer anything at all. He was unworthy to even stand here and look her in the eye, but he did so because she deserved that respect.

Instead of condemning him, she burst into a fresh round of tears. She cried so hard that she choked on it, hiccupping and gagging. She cried like her heart was broken for him because it was part of him, but that was impossible. She couldn’t own his heart. He couldn’t give what he didn’t possess.

She surged forward, grabbing his blood-stained, tattered shirt. Her fingers curled through the fabric, and she tilted her head, practically snarling at him while he took another ragged breath, wishing he was dead.

“No! You’re in shock. You’ve been through the worst kind of hell and it’s broken you. A man can only take so much. You’re just a flesh and blood person under that armor of courage you throw on.” Her palm shoved up against his heart. “You’re alive and whatever reason they didn’t kill you, you’re here. I’m not letting you go. I’ll never renounce you. If you leave, I will find you. You have two sons here who love you more than anything in the world. I refuse to raise them alone. They need you.”

“They don’t need a father like me.”

“Yes.” She backed off and picked up his broken ruined hands. The healing had already started, the shifter in him working what would be considered a medical miracle, but the tendons would heal all wrong. Even now he had little use of his fingers. He couldn’t feel the damage, but then, he couldn’t feel anything. He’d numbed out after he’d been left to flee with the others.

He’d promised himself he’d get his pack north, take them to safety, and then he’d go off somewhere. Disappear. Go back for vengeance and die in the process. He deserved nothing.

She traced his bloody fingers carefully. “We have a good healer. She’s excellent. The best in the country, likely. She could help you. I don’t know that she could make your hands how they were before, but she could do something. Or, or…fuck!” The word tore through him like a bullet as she spun and paced the cabin. “We have money. Our pack. I’ll force my brother to get a doctor. A surgeon. If we can’t find a shifter, we will… I don’t know, kidnap someone and force them out here to do it.”

She spun back around, frantic. He’d seen men like this before a raid or going into battle. Filled with too much adrenaline. Dangerous. On edge. Barely holding it together. He’d seen men like this in the aftermath of battle. Clinging to what little sanity remained. He’d pushed a good woman to this, but why? She owed him nothing. Nothing for a man who was nothing.

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