Page 36 of Lesson In Faith

His friend sighed. “Just calm down. I’ll tell you what I know.”

Supremely pissed, Merrick tried to step past him, but Ford rammed the heel of his hand into his sternum. The sharp pain was enough to calm him slightly, enough that he might not use the shredder, but just his hands instead.

“Your girl didn’t know what she was getting herself into, Merrick. Both Ericka and Violet attest to it. She came in wearing a robe, barefoot, and one of the guys thought she was just a nervous newbie. He was good with her, he didn’t pressure her. He just didn’t realize she was non-verbal.”

Something about Fordham’s tone set Merrick’s hackles rising. “What does that mean?”

The normally eloquent Master seemed to think over what he’d just said. “I—”

Merrick shoved him forcefully out of the way, then bulled through the doors into the main room. He stopped, disoriented by the dim lighting, squinting through the near darkness until his eyes adjusted.

The orgy was a sea serpent in the middle of the room, a writhing coagulation of bodies in every position imaginable. It was a knife to the gut, understanding his little owl had been in the center of all this debauchery. It only twisted further when he replayed those nine words over and over in his head.

He was good with her, he didn’t pressure her.

Who the fuck washe?

Searching the room for Tamsyn, he bit back the urge to flick the lights on and tell the frolicking, cavorting guests to get dressed and get the fuck out. His muscles relaxed a fraction when he saw Violet gliding through the darkness as though she was born there, heading straight for him.

He made a beeline for her, stepping around stray legs and a threesome slowly disengaging from the rest of the party. The unique symphony of an orgy held no interest for him now; he blanked it all out, focusing on Violet’s strained face and the rigid set of her shoulders.

“Keep a tight hold on your temper, Merrick,” she snapped in her lyrical drawl, abruptly turning on her heel when she reached him. She strode off again without pause, and he swore the darkness parted for her. “Do not lose your shit with Blake; he did nothing wrong.”

Merrick saw the guy first, standing to one side, stark bollock naked. But it was the sight of Tamsyn huddled against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees as she rocked, that took him out at the knees and sent his dominant urges roaring to the forefront.

“Motherfucker,” he growled, overtaking Violet in three long strides, his fist already bunched and raised to knock the prick on his ass.

“No! No, Merrick!”

There was suddenly a heavy weight dangling off his bicep. Violet’s arms were wrapped around the thick muscle, attempting to stop him swinging. He shook her off, determined to reduce the naked bastard into a broken heap of pain and blood, but a terrified whimper snapped his bloodlust.

Fuck.

“If you’re Blake, I’ll deal with you in a minute,” he snarled at the guest, pleased when the pissant took a hasty step back. Turning to Tamsyn, he crouched low, going down on one knee. “Bad night, little owl?”

She lifted her head slowly. He didn’t need the soft light to see how pale she was; she damn near glowed in the dark, thanks to the lack of blood in her face. Those eyes… those goddamn eyes, his ruination, were huge and distraught.

When they met his, her breath exploded on a long, hard wail.

She crawled to him, naked and trembling. The distance between them was short, but it took her forever to reach him, to rise up on her knees and throw herself into the arms he held out for her. She buried herself against him, her hand clutching at his shirt and the muscles beneath as though she couldn’t believe he was real.

“All right, darlin’,” he crooned gently, even as he ordered himself to sound strict and displeased. In order to do that, he needed to not have a heart, and unfortunately, his was too enamored with her to take heed. “Where the hell were you running to, little owl?”

She hiccupped sadly, patting his chest as she kept rocking herself for comfort.

That message was clear enough—to you.

Christ, why did he get the feeling there was a whole saga lurking behind this clusterfuck? She was terrified yet again, but it wasn’t because of his potential wrath for breaking the rules he’d explicitly set out for her safety. Whatever spooked her, it went deep, where he couldn’t reach until she found her voice.

“Violet, I need a blanket.”

“I’ve got her robe.” Ericka approached from his left, the garment draped over her arm. She spread it wide, laying it over Tamsyn’s back as his little owl cringed and hid her face against his neck. “Linnie’s on standby in case you want her checked over.”

“No, I’ll do it myself.” Of course, that meant prying her off him so he could get her into the robe, and out of the chaos in here. “Darlin’, I need you to let go, just for a minute. I ain’t going anywhere. Need to get you wrapped up again.”

“Oh shit,” Blake muttered. “Tell me that’s not Master Merrick’s sub.”

Easing Tamsyn’s grip off his shirt, Merrick managed to work the robe over her cast with a little help from Violet. Once she was bundled up and he tied the belt around her waist, he lifted her onto her feet, scowling when she immediately tried to take the weight off her soles. “Did you come out of the house in bare feet, little owl?”

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