Page 110 of Savage Hunt

His nostrils flared as I turned my back on him and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Thankfully, I found a toothbrush, and once my mouth had been thoroughly sanitized, I left the counter and headed for the shower.

“What are you doing?” Fane’s gruff voice reverberated through the solid wood door as I cut on the water.

“Isn’t that obvious?” I was definitely poking the bear.

“What about your bandages?”

“I’ll put new ones on after the shower.” When I tried to lift my shirt, a flare of pain had me grabbing the counter for support.

Fane burst into the bathroom. “You’re going to pass out and crack your skull open.”

“That should make your life easier.” I brushed long, tangled strands of raspberry hair back. “Then you won’t have to feel guilty for killing me. Maybe you should have let Dorian and Dominic finish the job last night.”

The tiny muscles in his face jumped as he bared his teeth. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

“You always did have a possessive streak, Maverick.”

He helped me out of my tank top and gently pulled the bandages off, revealing the healing wounds on my chest and back. “And you have an annoying streak.”

“Well, you’re very good at—” My brain malfunctioned as he shucked his shirt and kicked his boots off. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, throwing my own words back at me. “I’m taking a shower with you.”

“Why?” My voice came out in a shrill, high-pitched squeak.

Fane lifted the bloodstone necklace off, dropping it on the counter. “Like I said, I’m not letting you die unless I’m doing the killing.” He unbuttoned his pants and shoved them and his boxers down, revealing his huge, distracting length. He noticed where my attention had gone and smirked.

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I looked away, unhooking my bra and tossing it off. When I tried to push my jeans down, tiny explosions erupted through my insides. Fane either felt the pain or noticed me struggling because he gripped my jeans a moment later and dragged them down my legs.

I held back the shivers as he drew my underwear off while I used his shoulders for balance, his hot skin burning my palm. His gaze traced my bare body as he stood, looming over me. I was a mess, but a flash of desire whipped through his scorching irises.

He strode past me to open the glass door of the shower. “Come on.”

I tried to steady my breaths and stepped into the hot spray, groaning as the water hit my aching muscles. Fane’s presence choked the shower stall as he stepped in, his masculine scent washing over my senses.

A shudder rippled through me, and it took every ounce of control not to lean into him. I avoided his eyes and wet my hair. His arm brushed my chest as he reached for the shampoo, and I bit back a moan.

“You killed Dominic,” I blurted, trying to think of something to distract myself from the intimidating demon shifter I wanted but couldn’t have. Did Amelia flip out when she discovered her son was dead? She probably wanted to kill Fane and me for it.

His fingers burned my shoulders as he spun me and squeezed shampoo into my hair. “I felt something strange, like your panic and fear mixed with anger. And then your pain.” A snarl built in his throat. “I was suddenly there as those two assholes gloated, Dominic holding the silver knife. I knew it was Demise.”

“You could feel the poison?”

“Yes.” Fane turned me and directed my head under the spray to rinse the shampoo. “After you fell, I slammed back into my body. And then I just ran. By the time I arrived, my instincts had taken over, and the moment I saw Dominic, my beast ripped out. Killing him was the only thing I could understand.”

So his instincts were to slaughter the men that hurt me, the opposite of Kaspin’s spell.

As if he heard my thoughts, his jaw ticked, unable to deny it. “I wanted to destroy Dorian and would have if Marissa hadn’t stepped in.”

“What about Marissa? Would you kill her?” I asked.

He didn’t need to answer. I felt it through the bond. Yes, he would. He would kill his former fated mate for me.

As rage transformed his face, his pupils elongated and teeth sharpened. His longing to end me battled with his instincts to protect me. The clash of opposing emotions twisted his insides into knots and made him feel unstable, crazy even.

A growl burst out of Fane, and he punched the wall behind me. The porcelain tiles shattered and tumbled to the bottom of the shower. “I’m losing my fucking mind!”

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