Page 53 of The Alpha's Silent Mate

“Iknow you wanted to come with me, but I think it’s safer if you stay here.”

Shay’s voice still echoes in my head as I sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at the blood-soaked sheets. He left more than an hour ago, but I can still see Daniel’s body.

I could clean the blood from him, but that was all I could do.

There was nothing I could do to bring him back.

Another tear slides down my face and drips onto the sheets.

Shay will be back soon. Not that I know how long it takes to bury a body, because I’m always the one causing the deaths while someone else deals with the burying part.

If I knew Shay wouldn’t immediately come after me, I’d leave. Now.

But he’d know where I went, and he’d get to me before I reached the men who did this to Daniel. And I would put him in danger.

So instead of doing the one thing I know I should, I brush my tears away with the back of my hand and strip the sheets from the bed.

Shay finds me scrubbing at the blood staining the mattress minutes later. I don’t know if it will ever come out, but that doesn’t stop me from scrubbing all the harder.

“Lexa?”

I lift my head to find Shay standing beside the bed.

His hands and body are covered with dirt, and there’s a bone-deep exhaustion on his face that I know isn’t because of his physical task. He holds his hands out to me. “Come here, pup.”

And that’s when I hear it. The pain. The knowledge that one of his pack is dead and there’s nothing he can do to bring them back.

I drop my cloth and go to him, not stopping until I’ve pressed my face against his chest and wound my arms around his hips. Shay holds me tight with his hand on the back of my hair and the other on my lower back.

We stand that way for a long time, neither of us saying a word.

Minutes later, Shay kisses my hair before releasing me. “Give me a minute to get cleaned up, and I’ll make you some food.”

I’m already shaking my head before he’s finished speaking. “I’m not hungry.”

His fingers grip my chin and tilt my head up so we’re eye to eye. “You need to eat, pup.”

I consider arguing. But one look in his eyes and I know his need to feed me is less about us having not eaten in hours, and more about his need to do something for me, so I sigh. “Okay, but only if you let me help.”

Because I need to do something for him too.

When a faint smile touches his lips, I know he’s read me as easily as he always has. “Okay, pup. I’ll get cleaned up. How about you rummage around in the cupboards and see what other ingredients are lurking in there you want to eat?”

There’s nothing I want to eat. But I smile and head toward the kitchen, because it’s something to focus on, and it means for a moment at least, I can forget about the bloodstained sheets—and Daniel.

* * *

Neither of us eats much of the stew.

Throughout our meal, Shay keeps his hand on my lower back as we sit at the bench-style dining table beside the kitchen.

By now, darkness is falling.

More and more, I find the windows drawing my gaze as I think about the courtyard, and how many more are dead or dying.

“How about a story, pup?”

I glance at Shay. Seeing him dressed for the first time since we came to the treehouse in a gray t-shirt and sweatpants makes me realize just how much has changed.

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