Page 48 of The Baritone's Rival

Oscar kept quiet. Maybe Trent didn’t have full knowledge of it. He got up from the chair, crossing to stow the medical supplies in a kitchen cabinet.

“Don’t walk away, Oscar.” Trent’s tone was commanding. “I lived with vampires. I know what that means. Your mate was in mortal danger. And we both know Elliott isn’t your mate.”

Oscar closed the cupboard and leaned against the counter. He couldn’t say anything. He’d done his best to avoid this conversation, and his best hadn’t been good enough.

“I’m your mate?” Trent’s face was unreadable. Oscar nodded.

“You are.”

Chapter 16

Trent

The room closed in around Trent. He wasn’t sure if it was this new information, or the blood loss, or just general overwhelm, but the atmosphere pressed down on him. His chest tightened as he gripped his legs, his hands on his thighs.

“Oscar—”

“I would never force you to accept the bond, Trent. Never.”

“I don’t want this.” Trent couldn’t temper the harshness of his tone. This was the thing that had destroyed his mother, that had haunted his teenage years.

“I wouldn’t have revealed it to you.” Oscar stayed plastered against the butcher block counter, far across the cabin. “I didn’t expect an attack or for your life to be in danger.”

“Wait.” Trent pushed down against the arm of the couch, fighting his exhaustion to come to standing. His core was shaky, and Oscar stepped toward him to help. Trent held out a hand to stop him.

“You…you knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

Oscar paled, his already fair complexion going sheet white. His hands gripped the wood of the countertop.

“I knew that you wouldn’t want it. That you couldn’t. And I didn’t want it either. You’ve seen Elliott. You know what I ran from?—”

“When? When did you know?” The adrenaline was banishing Trent’s grogginess, strengthening his uncertain legs. He needed details, and now.

Oscar took a deep breath. “The day of the attack. When I dressed your wounds. I was drawn to your…your blood. After we were done, I tasted a drop. I knew then that you were mine.”

“I am not your property!” Trent’s voice echoed off the wood of the cabin walls. He was trying so hard to keep control, but this was too much. “Why would you taste my blood? What an invasive, disgusting?—”

“I was pulled to it. Drawn to it. Because you are my mate. My demon pushed me to try that single drop, to know for sure.”

“You should have told me.” Trent’s jaw clenched. “You didn’t have any right to hide something like that from me.”

“I wasn’t?—”

“If I had known we were mates, I would have never come here with you!” Trent’s knees buckled at the exertion, and he collapsed down onto the couch. He hated not being one hundred percent. He hated having to rely on someone else.

Oscar walked over to Trent, sitting across from him, perched gingerly on the armchair, scooched to the front of the seat cushion.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t?—”

“I want to go back to New York.” Trent fought against the panic and desperation threatening to stop his voice. “They know we’re here. It doesn’t make any sense to stay.”

Oscar flinched almost imperceptibly, then nodded. “Freddie and his First are on their way. Once they get here?—”

“No. I want to go now.” Trent knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t help it. This was all too much. He just wanted to be home.

“Please,” Oscar said. “Elliott probably won’t return so soon after being injured. We should wait for Freddie and Lillian. They can take on anyone. And even if we were attacked again, the cabin is the best place to be. We don’t want to run into Elliott and more of his coven alone on an empty backwoods road.”

Trent sighed, almost whimpering. Anxiety churned in his stomach. He couldn’t purge the raw panic from his system. It was silly, all this inner turmoil in a ridiculous, rustic cabin in the woods of Maine. Was he gonna shoot a bear and then cry about his childhood trauma?

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