Page 125 of Feral

“Let me go you son of a bitch!”

I snagged Liam's hand and squeezed. He gasped with pain.

“Agent Reynolds, stand down!” said Director Dearborne’s voice from down the hall.

I didn’t want to. It would be so easy to simply break Liam’s wrist and go after Fraser, damn all the consequences. But then I heard Liams grunt of pain, saw the Director come toward me with her Stinger out, ready to use it on me if I didn’t cease. Fighting in this way was pointless, and my logical brain knew it.

So I released Liam and I tore the gloves off, throwing them away from me. I gulped in air, my legs shaking and I fell to the wood floor.

“Fraser,” I whispered, praying the room would stop spinning.

The smell of blood and bile, the adrenaline of the gloves, the fear that Fraser might never come back to me, it all combined into one oily mix. I somehow managed to run to a bathroom before I promptly threw up.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Fraser

Ittookanhourto clean me up, and I was grateful that the whole time, Lowell didn’t say a word.

I was dazed as the soap and water were worked into my fur, my brain replaying the look on Daphne’s face over and over again. Her wide green eyes, the blood splatter on her face from my fur, the way her soft lips gaped at the sight of me. She’d been shaking, and her hand had come away from my arm soaked in the sin of my actions.

How could I think that I could hide this from her? That I could hope to be anything but what I was?

A monster.

“Are ya going to talk to her?” Lowell asked after I’d dressed in a fresh kilt.

“Why? So she can cower in fear?”

He stared at me for a moment and then snorted.

“You can be the dumbest bloody bawbag, ya know that?”

“I don’t need ya to give me a fucking pep talk.”

“How about a slap on the head then? That lasslovesya. I can’t fathom why, but she does. And yer just going to hide out in the back room of the house like a coward?”

I should’ve been angry at his words but all I felt was numb from loss.

“Tell me when she’s gone and I’ll come back out for the rest of the handfastin’,” I said.

I knew as the brother of the clan leader that I couldn’t just hide in here all day, no matter how much I wanted to. But I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the woman I loved run from me. Or worse, look at me with revulsion.

I closed my eyes and let the crushing weight of it all settle on my soul. Lowell looked like he wanted to say more but blessedly decided against it.

I’d woken this morning with so much joy because I believed Daphne and I stood a chance. But just because I could live up to any fantasies she may have about rutting a beast, didn’t mean she bargained for the flesh-ripping side of it.

The stench of blood still hung in the air around me, and I longed to simply run away. But that would never do. I had to go back out there, make sure there wasn’t any fall out with clan Campbell over this whole mess and give at least the appearance of solidarity with my brother. But only after she’d gone. I wouldn’t put her through the fear of seeing me.

Unbidden, visceral memories flooded my senses. The soft perfection of her body, the sound of her moans when she was about to come. The smile that felt like it was just for me. I’d been whole in her arms for the first time in my life, and now my chest cracked at the thought of losing her. A whine curled up through my parted lips and I hurt all over. Nothing had really happened yet, she still wore my mark. But just thinking of losing my true mate was enough to debilitate me. What would actually happen when the mark was gone and I never saw her again?

The pain was probably all in my head, a product of my morose thoughts, and yet it made me curl in on myself as my muscles cramped.

Hours passed.

I heard the Archive agents leave.

The sun made its slow progress across the sky, and the party for the handfasting eventually began. And the entire time, no one came to my door.

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