Page 62 of Midnight Mate
East jumped up and moved in, putting himself between Travis and me. Then, he stalked to where Travis now lay, bleeding from his throat.
Travis’s eyes were still crazed, but he didn’t move as East approached.
I held my breath, terrified it was some trick to lure East in too far. He was already bleeding from where Travis’s claws had gotten him earlier.
But when East got close, Travis only blinked in a slow, desperate motion.Mercy, his eyes seemed to plead.
Screw that.
I started to get to my feet, but East was faster.
He bit down on Travis’s throat, sinking his teeth in past fur and flesh. There was a ripping sound as East tore away tissue and muscle and tossed it aside. Travis whimpered, blood pouring from his ripped neck, puddling on the floor.
Even from here, I could see the dark stain spreading around him.
East didn’t move again until the life left Travis’s eyes, dead where he lay in a pool of his own blood.
The silence became a roar in my ears.
Slowly, East turned from Travis’s body and approached me. My leg was covered in blood, and I had a puddle of my own underneath where I sat. But all I cared about was East. He was bleeding—badly—from the cut on his neck and another along his ribs. Scattered over his body, there were several more patches of fur stained with blood. It was impossible to know how bad those were while he was a wolf.
When he got close, he stopped, and the air between us thickened with a mystical energy. The ends of my hair danced on an invisible wind. I shut my eyes against the sawdust flying. When I opened them, East stood on two legs again.
He crouched in front of me, concern lining his shadowy features.
“How bad is it?” he asked in a strained voice.
I noted the open wounds slashing across his collarbone and hip then followed his gaze down to where he was staring at my still-bleeding leg. I swallowed hard at the amount of blood pooling beneath me. It was a lot. Too much.
“Not terrible,” I said. “Just a lot of blood. I’ll be fine.”
East’s eyes filled with sadness. We both knew I wouldn’t be fine.
He took off his shirt and wrapped it around my leg above the cut, tying it tightly to stem the bleeding. I stared at his torso, completely in awe of his defined chest and rippling abs, and horrified at the angry slashes marring that perfection.
“Cat?”
East’s voice brought me back.
It was still so damn quiet.
“I’m going to carry you out of here, all right?”
Why did he sound like that? So careful and bland? Where was his temper? His worry?
I fought back the urge to cry. “Okay.”
He scooped me carefully into his arms, and I should have been glad at the way he made sure not to jostle my injured leg. But as he carried me outside, all I could think about was how mad he should be right now.
Outside, the light from the stars made it easier to see his face. It was set in hard lines, but when he saw me watching, it smoothed into an expression I’d never seen him wear before. Gentleness mixed with a terror that broke my heart.
I tapped his cheek. He looked down at me as he stopped beside Travis’s truck.
“You came for me.”
He arched a brow. “Did you think I would just leave you out here with that psycho?”
My thoughts were slow to come through the haze of pain. “And you’re glad to see me now?”
