Page 41 of Revenge of the Blood Pack

“Or you’re reading too much into nothing,” I tell him.

He looks at me and raises a brow, but then he changes the topic. “Thanks for laying with me during my nightmare. Trouble is the only one who seems to be able to help with them, but even he has limits. Sometimes I just have to ride it out.”

“No worries.” I hesitate, then decide the hell with it. “I have nightmares sometimes too.”

“Yeah? About what?”

My guard goes up so fast it almost steals my breath. “The past.”

But he doesn’t push further, just nods. “Mine is the past too. Sometimes I wish my dreams weren’t about real things though. It’d be easier to shake off weird, crappy nightmares than it is to shake off things that really happened.”

Like shooting a child?I tried not to think about what the homeless man had said because I don’t even know if it’s true. But even if it is, I’m the last person who should judge anyone for doing what they have to in order to survive. Especially when Braxton strikes me as someone who would only hurt someone if he had to.

“Agreed,” I say, and again I wish he was still holding me.Who knew a pair of big, strong arms could be so comforting?

“But some things we can’t forget. Some things weshouldn'tforget. It’s our cross to bear for what we’ve done.” He doesn’t sound like he’s talking to me, but rather himself, but still, his words feel like blows.

That night comes back to me like it’s come back a thousand times before. Some moments are only broken fragments that live freely in my mind, and others are as clear as day. I see the moment the building crumbled. I see my brother on the other side of the flames holding that bloody heart, and then dark magic explodes all around him and red-eyed creatures emerge from the smoke.

And… and I ran.

I hadn’t thought anything in that moment. That was the thing. I never rememberdecidingto run away. I just remember being terrified and then the town was suddenly flying by around me. Growls and screams came from behind me, along with the scents of dozens of shifters and other supernaturals. But hearing the sounds and picking up the scents only made me run harder.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I said goodbye to my brother. Goodbye to everyone.

Never did I think about the fact that I was a coward who was running away. A coward who could have fought at my brother’s side. I was just running. Maybe crying. Saying goodbye to him and everyone else in that town.

I hit the woods and just kept running, circling around to the End. But I barely made it onto the path to the End when I saw them. A group of Blood Mages. My mother is on her knees in front of them. One of them said she was too old to be of use, and then they shot her with a bolt of purple light, and her skin melted from her body. She screamed, and screamed, and screamed.Skin gave way to blood and muscles, and finally her skeleton collapsed onto the ground.

But I was there. Tearing out one of their throats. Scratching. Biting. Clawing at the others until they’d restrained me on the ground.

In the distance I heard my sister scream my name, and then her scream was cut off in a way that told me what her fate had been.

I wish everything was a blur after that, but it wasn’t. Bodies were piled into the center of the town. Even pack members who were still breathing, just unable to fight, and the pile was lit on fire.

The smell. The sounds. They haunt me. Would haunt anyone, I’m sure.

It wasn’t until I was thrown into a cell that I saw who had survived. That, somehow, my brother had lived. It felt like… a relief. But not, too. And then my brother was taken away, and I never saw him again.

But how can something like that be a relief?

And when the Blood Mages revealed that I was the reason they came to our town, that I was the reason for all the death and destruction, even that small piece of relief was stolen from me. Everyone in the cells hated me. But I hated myself too, so that was okay.

“Asha?” A hand runs down my arm and I jerk away from it, coming back to the motel room and the bed with Braxton. My heart’s racing and I feel sweaty as my gaze meets his.

“I lost you for a minute, but sorry about the personal bubble.” He tilts his head, studying me, those pale eyes of his filled with understanding.

“It’s okay. My personal bubble… gets smaller as I get to know people,” I tell him, but my teeth are chattering, so it sounds kind of weird.

He smiles. “Just let me know. I never want to be the person who scares you or makes you feel uncomfortable.” And I believe him.

The door to the room opens and Max walks in with his phone in hand. When his gaze meets mine, I can feel the tension in his body. He glances from me to Braxton, and I inch a little away from his brother.Is Braxton right? Is there really something between Max and me? And how does he feel about me sharing a bed with his brother?

“We have to go. There’s been a murder,” Max says, storming past us and heading for his bag.

I think of the shredded body I left behind and try to keep my face blank. As long as Clinton did as I asked and got the hell out of there, everything will be fine. I just have to not give myself away.

And stop wondering about Max’s feelings.

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