Page 25 of Untamed Instincts

A wounded Quinton, a lifeless body guarded by his mate, another dead guy in his apartment, along with a demented woman who’d tried to abduct him… It was as if chaos itself had manifested in the form of dead bodies and deranged villains.

This was all Noah’s fault and his worst fear was that more bad guys would show up to kidnap him, only this time they might actually kill Quinton instead of just injuring him.

That’s why Noah had taken off, but even though he was only trying to keep Quinton and his sons safe, all he wanted to do was turn back around and go home. Quinton had been injured, though he’d acted as if the wounds hadn’t bothered him as he’d stood in the hallway.

What in the hell should I do? Noah’s mind was a frantic mess. He just needed a minute to breathe, to get his thoughts in order. His hand trembled as he turned off his car in Harris’s driveway. Noah wasn’t even sure why he’d come here since he had no intention of telling his best friend what was going on.

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t stop seeing Quinton stabbed with those claws.

In that moment, Noah had felt like his life was over.

In that moment, he had never hated anyone more than he’d hated that lion shifter.

In that moment, Noah had wanted the guy who had hurt Quinton to die.

“Shit.” He pressed the pad of his index finger and thumb against his eyelids. “Pull yourself together.” A humorless laugh escaped. “Right, how am I supposed to do that after what just happened?”

The worst part? Noah had just been through the most terrifying moment of his life, and all he’d wanted was to be held and given comfort, but Quinton had acted more like a hall monitor, sending Noah back inside his apartment.

Seriously?

Just because his mate was used to the insanity didn’t mean Noah was handling it like a champ.

He wasn’t.

Noah was not okay. He was very far from okay.

“I should’ve never left. I need my mate.” Just as Noah was about to start his car and pull away, his best friend walked onto the porch then hurried to the driver’s door.

As badly as Noah wanted Quinton, he got out and simply stood there, trying his best to hold himself together.

“Wasn’t expecting you.” Harris’s smile faded. “What’s wrong, Noah? Why are you shaking so badly?”

“I—” Noah started, but the words wouldn’t come. His throat tightened, his thoughts tangled like knotted string. What could he even say? How do you explain that your life just turned into a horror-fantasy novel without sounding insane? Worse, it was your own fault.

The world seemed so different now. The overcast sky felt darker, the sounds around him muted, and the breeze colder.

All the vibrant colors had bled away, leaving behind a world that felt eerily monochrome, drained of warmth and comfort.

Noah stood there, trembling, the weight of everything crashing down on him all at once. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d been holding in until now, standing before Harris, his best friend—the one person who had been there for him through everything.

Harris’s concerned expression was the final straw.

As Noah stumbled forward, his legs buckled. He barely caught himself on the car door. He began to hyperventilate, his heart hammering as he tried, but failed, to pull himself together.

Harris gripped Noah’s shoulders firmly and pulled him into a hug. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, hon. You’re safe here. Talk to me,” he said softly, his voice steady and grounding in the chaos of Noah’s mind.

Clinging to Harris, he felt like a child who had lost his way. The floodgates broke, and tears slid down his cheeks, hot and unstoppable.

Without a word, Harris led him to the porch. As soon as Noah sat on one of the plastic green chairs, his mind cleared a bit. The familiar scent of coffee and Harris’ cologne hit him, but it did little to soothe the tension coiled in his chest.

He slouched, pressing his hands together between his knees. Harris crouched in front of him, the concern etched deeper in his features now that he saw just how rattled Noah was.

“Talk to me,” Harris urged. “What happened?”

“I’m...I’m in trouble,” Noah finally admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I got mixed up with something—something really dangerous.”

So much for keeping your best friend out of this.

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