Page 33 of Fated Exile

"You sure about that?" Nervousness crosses his face. "I'm afraid that I'll hurt someone."

"I found the infection that was inside you, making you do things you didn't want to do. Now it's gone. Don't you feel the difference?"

"I do."

"Then trust yourself."

I pace over to him and kneel, reaching into my pocket to pull out the key to his cuffs. They come undone easily enough, and he rubs his wrists as they slip off. My heart hurts at the sight of reddened skin just beneath the edges.

Next are the ankles cuffs and chains that lead to them.

Leaving him well and truly free—or at least, he will be once we leave this strange, cold, wretched place.

"C'mon." I stand up and hold my hand out, giving him a smile. "We've got to go tell the others how it went. Also... there are some things I want to tell you about."

"Okay." He answers my smile with one of his own, and grabs my hand. "I hope there's some good news."

I'm about to answer when energy shoots up my arm, like static shock. It starts at the place where Bastian's hand meets mine, then races up my skin and shoulder—running around the back of my neck and disappearing.

Unnerved, I look up into his eyes. There's no more red in their depths, and just a normal amount of worry. Reaching out, I brush his long, silky black hair behind his shoulder—then freeze when I hear the clearing of a throat.

"So?" Lance is at the door, waiting, along with the others. They look inside impatiently. "Did it work?"

"It did," I tell him, "so now we have to talk about what's going to happen tonight."

Fourteen

Lance

Idon't like the way this feeling makes me...feel.Like a stupid, uncaring, doltish brute without two brain cells to rub together. It's made me so simple that I can't even properly describe why I feel as I do, or seem to control my own emotions.

When I see Delilah move near Bastian and shyly reach out to brush her hand against his, the wolf inside me growls and thrashes like a beast ready to pounce.

The others can sense it. Kieran keeps eyeing me warily from the corners of his eyes, clearly uncertain why I'm so worked up. Though Finn hasn't said anything, he stands closer to Delilah as we all gather in the parking lot of the moon sickness compound. Roarke, of course, has been trying to pretend like he doesn't notice I'm out-of-sorts, even as his instinctive alpha nature leads to him pushing out calming signals and pheromones. They only make me feel more irritated, because I'll relax subconsciously only to remember why I'm so worked up.

Even Niall seems to sense it. As Delilah haltingly tries to explain to Bastian that she's fated to have five mates, and tells him she wants to test the mating thread connection, Niall paces over to stand next to me. He reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder, which just makes me feel like snapping it off at the wrist.

I push the emotion down and keep my cool. Looking over at him, I frown a little. "What?"

"You're worried," he notes. "Not just because you think Bastian might be a threat, I think, but also because you're jealous."

I stiffen. "I'm trying not to be. I don't like how it makes me...feel."

"Inferior?"

"Like the world is... outside of my control."

"Isn't it for us all?"

"Yes," I bark, "but I don't have to like it."

He chuckles and drops his hand from my shoulder, glancing over at Delilah. She's explaining things to Bastian in a low voice, color rising on her cheeks, and I have to tune her out. I can't stand the thought of her explaining the mating ceremony to him. Even though I know it isn't fair, I resent him for being a lone wolf, outside the pack and uninitiated.

It would be so much easier to trust him if he were one ofus.

Even then, I have to admit that I'm not thrilled to learn Delilah will havefivemates instead of the four I'd almost resigned myself to. At least previously, I could even hope that she ultimately would choose three or even two of us as her favorites. Sharing with four other male werewolves will mean fighting over every second of her time and energy.

It's uncharitable to Delilah, but I can't help imagining five feral wolves snarling over a single skinny ham bone. The woman is far more valuable than that, of course. She's no piece of meat or gnawed-off bone. Still, I can't guarantee that there won't be blood if I have to share my mate.

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