Page 47 of Pleasure and Mane
Where the hell is he?
Cold dread flooded through her body like ice water in her veins. She sat up, her heart hammering against her ribcage as the terrible realization crashed over her. That stubborn, protective, impossible Alpha had snuck out to hunt down Vincent. She knew it with the same certainty she knew her own name.
"Damn it, Caius," she whispered to the empty room.
Quinn pulled on one of his t-shirts, the fabric still carrying his intoxicating scent of cedar. She padded barefoot to his living area, settling onto the leather couch by the fireplace to wait. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled her knees to her chest.
He knew I would never agree to this. He knew I'd try to stop him.
The minutes crawled by with agonizing slowness. Every creak of the old mansion made her heart leap, and every distantsound made her strain her ears for his familiar footsteps. Through their newly completed mate bond, she could sense echoes of his emotions—fury, determination, and something darker that made her stomach clench with worry.
At 1:23 AM, she heard the soft click of his bedroom door. Caius crept through the darkness with the practiced stealth of a predator, clearly expecting to find her still asleep and blissfully unaware of his midnight excursion.
"Going somewhere?" Quinn's voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Caius froze, his imposing frame silhouetted in the doorway. Even in the darkness, she could see the tension radiating from his powerful shoulders.
"Quinn." His voice carried equal parts surprise and resignation. "You should be sleeping."
"And you should be in bed with your mate, not sneaking out to play vigilante." She rose from the couch, anger and relief warring in her chest. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
He stepped into the moonlight streaming through the windows, and her breath caught. His black henley was torn and bloody, angry scratches marred his handsome face, and the way he held his left side suggested damage beneath the fabric.
"Jesus, Caius." All her anger evaporated, replaced by terror at how close she'd come to losing him. "What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that bastard tried to murder my sister's unborn child today." His blue eyes blazed with unrepentant fury. "I was thinking about all those families he destroyed, all those innocent babies?—"
"And I was thinking about how I could have woken up to find out my mate was dead." Her voice cracked despite her efforts to stay strong. "Now that we're officially bonded, you can't justgo off on impulsive revenge missions that could get you killed. That's not fair to me or our future."
The fight seemed to drain out of him all at once. His broad shoulders sagged as he sank onto the edge of the bed, cradling his ribs.
"You're right." The admission came out rough and pained. "I let my lion control me tonight. I let my rage make me stupid and reckless."
Quinn moved to him, her medical training overriding her emotional turmoil as she gently tilted his chin to examine the claw marks on his face. "These need cleaning. And those ribs..." She carefully lifted his torn shirt, revealing three parallel gashes that were still bleeding sluggishly.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his intense gaze searching her face. "I'm sorry for scaring you and for going behind your back. I just... I've spent fifteen years protecting this pride, and I failed them. All those babies died because I didn't see what Vincent was doing."
"Stop." Her voice was fierce as she pressed her palm against his uninjured cheek. "You can't blame yourself for something you couldn't have known. What matters now is us stopping him the right way—through justice, not vigilante revenge."
Something shifted in his expression, pride mixing with love as he gazed at her. "You said 'us stopping him,' not 'me stopping him.'"
"This is my town now," she said simply. "These are my people too. I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."
The raw emotion in his eyes nearly undid her. "God, I love you."
"Good thing, since you're stuck with me forever." She stood, extending her hand to help him up. "Come on, let's get you to the medical wing. You're bleeding all over your expensive sheets."
The medical wing was quiet and sterile. Quinn worked with practiced efficiency, cleaning his wounds and applying antiseptic while trying to ignore the way her hands shook slightly thinking about how close he came to getting seriously hurt or worse. The scratches on his face were superficial, but the gashes on his ribs were deep enough to require careful stitching.
"Did you at least hurt him back?" she asked, threading a needle with steady hands now despite her inner turmoil.
"I drew blood. Sent him running." Caius winced as she began the first suture. "But he got away. Used some kind of chemical smoke bomb to blind me."
"Fighting dirty. Doesn't surprise me." She tied off the stitch with perhaps more force than necessary. "I swear, if you ever do something this stupid again?—"
"I won't." His hand covered hers, stilling her movements. "I promise you, Quinn. No more going behind your back, no more reckless missions. We're partners now, in everything."
She searched his face, finding only sincere remorse and love in those blue eyes. "You better mean that, Caius Haider. Because I can't... I can't lose you."
