Page 61 of Fragile Heart

Everyone dissipates with an impressive thoroughness over the next several minutes, leaving the campsite quiet and undisturbed. I stretch my neck and roll back my shoulders, closing my eyes to try and get the damnable need to subside. Ifshe hadn’t stayed over last night, it wouldn’t be so bad. Waking up to her scent all over the fucking kitchen just about took me out.

And those damnbruises.She didn’t even attempt to hide them. Not this morning, and not now. Like… Like she wants the world to see them, too. Like she wants what they’re symbolizing. Like she wants to take his claiming bite and forge the unbreakable bond with him.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

Unease wars with dread and a primal desire I have no tools to handle. My mint scent explodes around me, so strong it overpowers every single aspect of the wilderness around me.

Yeah, it’s probably time I admit that I need to go on a damn rut suppressor. I’ll just consider myself lucky that the only scent I’m reacting to this poorly ishers. The last thing I need is to lose my shit around Melissa or Triston.

After another long, deep breath, I start toward the cars to grab lunch. The relative stillness of the campsite and mundane work of prepping food help settle me better than anything I’ve managed since the end of May, since that day I walked into my own damn barn and was confronted with the ghost of my biggest regret. By the time I’m grilling the first set of hamburgers, the need to find Brielle and shove her against a wall is nearly gone entirely.

As long as I don’t think about the silvery scars Faedra and Olivia have. Or the way she smells like a goddamn mountain meadow in the spring.

Which I’m not. I’mnot.

Footsteps rip me from my thoughts. And then the flash of mahogany hair with sun-kissed highlights has them slamming into me even stronger.

I hold back a groan by the skin of my teeth.

She doesn’t say anything as she digs through the small piles on the other table, her hand cradled close to her chest. A small trail of red drips down her wrist, and my stomach drops out.

“What happened?” I ask.

I pull the hamburgers off the grill and stash them on the serving plate.

Her cheeks flush as I close the distance between us.

“I’m fine,” she says.

I frown, watching as that trail grows and traces down to her elbow.

“You’re not fine.” It’s a goddamn growl, and I don’t apologize for it.

I grab her wrist and force her hand flat. There’s a deep gash along her palm, nearly perfectly straight and spanning her entire hand. With a scowl, I focus on the trail leading to the lake. Where the hell is Caleb? There’s no way he wouldn’t be beside himself over her getting hurt.

“I’ll be fine,” Brielle repeats. She tries to pull her hand away, but I tighten my grip around her wrist. She whines, and something twists in my chest. “I just need to clean it and get it covered.”

I curse under my breath and grab the first aid kit she’d clearly been going for.

“What happened?” I ask, trying to calm the fierce possessiveness that’s roiling through me right now. I’m not upset that she’s hurt. I’mnot. People get hurt all the time.

She doesn’t immediately answer, and I focus on pulling gauze and vet wrap from the kit while also ripping open several of the alcohol wipes.

“There was a broken beer bottle on the shore,” she whispers. Her hand trembles as I cradle it in my own. “I grabbed it to keep Camden from stepping on it, and it accidentally sliced me. So I threw it away and told Faedra I’d be right back.”

She hisses as I clean the gash and again when I press the gauze into the cut to gauge how quickly it’s clotting. When it bleeds through before I count to twenty, I curse.

“Fuck.” I press it harder into her palm. “Can you hold this? I need to find the butterfly bandages.”

Her fingers brush mine, and lightning shoots up my arm.

JesusfuckingChrist.

I shut down my focus to just the task at hand, pulling out a few of the specialty bandages and getting them situated on her palm. As soon as I have them covering the cut, I layer a new piece of gauze over the top just in case of bleed-through and then cover it with the vet wrap. The moment it’s secured, I drop my hands away.

Another damn second with her skin against mine, and I’m going to fucking lose it.

She watches me as I reassemble the kit and gather the bloody pieces of trash. The last thing we need is blood getting on the ground and attracting bears.

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