Page 112 of Savage Claim

“I love you, Fane,” I repeated it, my lips trembling.

He tilted his head, scrutinizing me. After several long seconds, the mystical violet faded from his eyes, and his expression softened. He looked at his hand, his talons in my throat, and panic erupted over his features.

Fane cursed and stumbled off the bed, hitting the wall so hard a painting fell, the wooden frame cracking. “Not again.”

I scrambled out of bed, wiping the blood off my neck and smearing it on the shirt of his I’d tossed on last night. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!” He jammed his hand into his ebony hair, pulling on the roots. “I almost killed you.”

“You’ve almost killed me plenty of times.” I motioned down my body. “I’m still here.”

He frantically shook his head. “This is different.”

Was it different because we were mated now?

I approached him, ignoring his protests, and grabbed his face. “I’m okay.”

“But I’m not.”

The anguish tearing him apart pulsated around him like it had a life all its own. So I opened myself and took it from him, inhaling all the pain and guilt eating at him for hurting me.

The air catapulted from my lungs at the deep agony filling my veins and stealing my sanity. His anguish was so much worse now that I was his mate. A shifter’s natural instinct was to protect his mate, and Fane wanted to cut his own hand off for attempting to kill me.

“You can’t trust me,” he hissed.

“I trust you more than anyone.”

He cursed in a demon language and yanked my hands off, gripping them in an unrelenting hold. “You shouldn’t, Teague. You should stay far away from me.”

“I rarely do what I’m told, Maverick.” If I couldn’t stay away from him before we claimed each other, he was an idiot to think I could do it now.

Fane’s head cocked to the side as footsteps sounded in the hall. His nostrils flared moments before he yanked me behind him in a protective stance.

Like I needed protecting.

“It comes with the territory,” he growled into my mind.

The door suddenly swung open, and Ruin poked his head in. “Wrath said you two?—”

Logan shot past him into the room, his electric-blue eyes frantic. “Is it true? Are you two officially mates?”

Fane snatched a pair of my sweatpants off the couch, tossing them to me. “Yeah, and I just tried to kill her.”

I yanked the pants on without arguing even though I had every right to walk around in a t-shirt if I wanted to. Just because we were mates now didn’t mean I’d lost the ability to make my own decisions. But Fane was having a shitty morning, so I complied just this once.

“What?” Logan’s gaze dipped to the thin trails of blood streaking my neck. “I thought since you were willing to claim her, you’d overcome those urges.”

“Obviously not.” He grabbed a shirt from a drawer and shoved it over his head. “We fell asleep, and then the next thing I know, my talons are in her neck, and I’m seconds away from ripping her fucking throat out.”

Ruin motioned toward my arm. “Is someone going to say anything about the addition of your tattoo?”

Logan closed the distance between us and lifted my arm to study the markings. “They look like Fane’s except for the delicate ones covering your hand.”

As soon as the high demon touched me, a threatening snarl glided out of Fane.

“Look at you, getting all possessive and puffed up over your mate. How cute.” Logan chuckled as he released me and sauntered toward his friend, grabbing him in a bear hug. “Our little boy’s all grown up.”

Fane rolled his eyes and pushed his friend off. “Fuck you, Logan. And stop joking around. This is serious. I could have killed Tate.”

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