Page 55 of Savage Claim

“It’s a warning.” Saint’s nostrils flared, and his hands curled into fists as if he was having an internal struggle. “Anything could tear her right from your grip if you’re not careful.”

My nightmare of walking into the warehouse years ago to find my friends dead and Jayla being attacked suddenly blurred out of focus. The metal, concrete, and partially burnt walls evaporated into smoke.

When the scene re-formed, I stood inside the mystical forest within Silver Ridge’s compound, a full, round moon hanging in the starlit sky.

What the hell is going on?

A shaft of silver light shined on the dark, wet splotches along the leaf-strewn ground.

Blood.

A metallic hint perfumed the air.

As I traveled through the tall pines and maples, an ebony shape emerged, pacing back and forth with agitated movements. Fane’s beast form always sent tingles down my back. That impossibly black fur, the long sickle claws, and those gleaming spikes down his back and on his paws were as mesmerizing as they were terrifying.

He halted and hovered over a small form on the ground, his shoulders tightening. Fane’s head craned back, and he let out a bone-shaking growl that had my hands clamping over my ears. The painful cry tore through the atmosphere like an explosion ripping apart reality.

What the hell happened?

I shook off the ringing in my ears and stepped toward the scene, my heart dropping when I finally understood Fane’s anguish. Another version of me was sprawled on the ground, my throat torn out and gaze fixed on starry sky. Dead.

This wasn’t my nightmare.

It was Fane’s.

He’d pulled me into his mind.

Chapter

Twenty

My stomach churned and sweat beaded my forehead as I stood within Fane’s nightmare. Was this how he saw mine? Was he an invisible bystander watching my horrible memories unfold?

This wasn’t one of his memories, though. He’d killed me. And instead of rejoicing in my death, he mourned.

Fane’s beast trembled, and moments later, he stood in his human form, blood covering his mouth and running down his neck and bare chest. My blood. He frantically shook his head at the sight of my corpse.

“No, no, no, no.” He raked his shaking hands through his hair, his eyes wild and unfocused. “I-I didn’t mean it.” His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the ground at my side.

Invisible claws tore at my insides as Fane grabbed my body and cradled me against him, rocking back and forth. The agony in his expression punched me right in the gut and ripped the air from my lungs.

“I’m sorry, Tate. I’m so sorry.” Fane rested his hand over the wounds in my throat, trying to heal me like he took away my pain. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please come back. Please. I need you.”

I couldn’t watch this. My heart was being torn to pieces. His agony flowed through our link, and it was so debilitating the forest spun around me. I walked closer, drawn to him as the urge to take his emotional distress drowned me.

I could take it all away. I could make him feel better.

My hand reached out, landing on his shoulder, but before I could draw his pain into me, his head jerked in my direction.

“Tate?” He studied me and then the dead version in his arms, tears streaking his face. “I killed you.”

He could see me.

I slowly lowered next to him. “I’m not dead, Fane. You’re dreaming.”

His brows pulled together as he tried to make sense of the scene. “I didn’t want to kill you. It just happened. I couldn’t stop. You were there, and then you were on the ground.” His arms tightened around my dead form, his muscles quivering. “And now you’re gone.”

Invisible knives drove through my heart. Fane didn’t remember our time together, and the desire to kill me filled his veins, but he didn’t want to do it, even knowing I ended his brother.

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