Page 59 of Bound By Roses

I force him. The sound of his pants ripping overtakes the silence, replaced only when a low growl builds in his throat when a wolf stands where a man stood moments before. There’s no threat in the sound, only annoyance.

“I don’t care what is waiting for us. Be it friend or foe, I don’t want to see your human face for the rest of the night. Until we figure this out, you’re a wolf from sundown to sunup. Are we clear?”

He looks away from me, but I know he won’t argue. Part of me feels sorry for him because I know how much he hates being in this form. Needing to spend his nights as a wolf is far too close to the curse that nearly destroyed him. The pain in my hand—although not entirely his fault—helps to snap me out of that momentary guilt. As does the pain of betrayal still stinging my heart.

We walk to camp in tense silence and a wave of relief washes over me when I spot Jade there waiting for us. Only when I remember that this isn’t the Jade I once knew is it replaced by the sourness of disappointment.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he says when he sees the bloodied fabric in my hand.

I sob a laugh because that is exactly what the old Jade would say. For some reason, seeing him here has the tears I’ve been fighting flowing freely down my cheeks. The pain, the betrayal, the fight with Quinn. I have every right to be a mess.

Jade’s eyes flick down to the bloody shirt. “Can I help you with that?”

“It’s fine.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks so much like the Jade I knew. I almost want to believe it’s him. Even just for a moment. “That’s a lot of blood. It might take more than a dirty shirt to stop it.” He holds up a hand and the lines of molten red glow brighter. “My way is a lot cleaner, too. You never know what kinds of diseases these beasts carry.”

Quinn growls at my side, but it’s not in refusal. I know he’d rather someone help me even if I won’t allow it to be him.

“Fine.” I take a seat next to our fire pit and Jade snaps his fingers. Sparks jump from his skin and fly to the wood, causing them to instantly ignite. I’ve seen him light fires before, but this is the first time that all it took was a spark.

Quinn glances in my direction before darting off into the trees with whatever remains of the torn pants hanging from his mouth. There will be no repairing them, so I don’t know why he bothers. At least he’s giving me privacy. I unravel the shirt and blood spurts from my second to last finger with every beat of my heart.

I think I’m going to be sick again.

“Ouch. I hope the information you got was worth it.” Jade’s words offer a decent distraction, so I do my best to talk through the nausea.

“You know why we’re here?”

“Aurelia told me.” I must have given him a look because his eyebrow raises again in question. “What?”

“I just thought you might call her mom.”

“She was never my mother. Not in any way that counted. I may not have my memories, but I know that much.” He holds out a hand for mine. “I won’t burn you. Unintentionally, I mean. I’ve been practicing.”

I hesitate only a moment before laying my hand in his. It’s hotter than it should be, but my skin doesn’t burn. It’s as if he’s moved the fire inside him elsewhere on his skin.

“The Spider told me how to save Quinn’s life.”

“Is he dying?” I flinch, but it’s only partially from him examining my wound. “That’s something I should already know, isn’t it?”

“It’s the reason you turned yourself into a living fireball.”

He laughs once, but there’s no humour in it. “That sucks. I burned myself alive, and I didn’t even save the bastard.”

I choke on a laugh that’s genuine. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny, it’s just… Sometimes you say things exactly the way Jade would say them.”

“And other times, I’m a total stranger.”

I nod, because what can I say?

“This is going to hurt for a minute. Are you ready?”

“It already hurts,” I mutter. I know if I opened the bond with Quinn, he’d be taking as much of this upon himself as he could, but I don’t want that. He refused to share his burden with me, so I’m not going to let him share mine.

He takes that as permission and presses a glowing finger against my stub of a finger. I press the soiled shirt against my mouth to stop myself from crying out, but the sound escapes regardless.

When Jade releases me, I can breathe again, but the burning sensation remains. It radiates through my entire hand and halfway up my arm. And then I remember that I don’t have to suffer through this. At least not at this intensity. I lay my uninjured hand flat against the ground and will sprigs oflavender to grow. I pick them, but processing the oil is going to be hand one-handed.

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