Page 19 of Prodigal Son

“Destiny?”

Her right arm shot out, bent at a ninety-degree angle, as her middle finger spiked toward the sky. He arched a brow. The finger gesture was not an endearment.

“You’re heading east.”

Her steps halted and her shoulders bunch in frustration. She flinched as the motion pulled her skin tight, likely angering her injuries. Pivoting, she swiftly marched back in his direction, chin high, stare averted, and her unwavering pride still intact.

They walked another mile in silence. Although he was too weak to get into her head, her hunger and thirst beat at him. He had nothing to offer her aside from the water in his nearly empty canteen.

He could only assume her occasional tremble came from pain or fear. She was sweating profusely, so he doubted it was the chill in the air. Unless she was ill. He knew very little about mortal illness, but instinct told him a hot body with chilled skin was a bad sign.

Damn her mortal fragility. He had too much on his mind to spare her a single worry. Her constant moaning and griping was only distracting him.

Cain needed to get home. Too much time had passed since he last heard Annalise. The silence that followed their severed link was maddening. He could rest and try to reach her through a dream, but he didn’t want to chance closing his eyes. He also didn’t trust the mortal female in his company. She’d already tried to kill him once.

His chest tightened, this time not from his injury, but from guilt. Anna was hurt. He knew it. And it was his fault. He could blame the mortal, but he’d been the one to place himself in harm’s way.

Hopefully, Anna’s immortal blood and Adam’s presence was enough to stabilize her and the baby, but without a telepathic link he had no way of knowing for sure. He only had his fury and guilt.

Although the mortal female played a part, Cain had been the culpable one. He had promised not to endanger Anna and broken that vow. His foolish actions plagued him with shame, and it was too easy to make Destiny the target of his blame when he was the one at fault.

Her blood atonement would have to be retribution enough. However, his human blood bag wasn’t strong enough to provide what he needed to properly heal, and he hadn’t spotted a single animal worth feeding from since they started their trek. His equilibrium was so off from blood loss, he doubted he even possessed the speed and agility to catch a deer at this point, let alone wrestle a bear.

Destiny paused and shut her eyes as her fingers pressed into her temples. Rather than keep walking, he held back and waited. Her olive skin held a greenish hue. There was no rosiness to her cheeks, despite the glaze of sweat.

His head tipped as he glimpsed the puncture wounds at her throat. Had he been so out of it at the cave that he forgot to close his bite mark the last time he fed? She seemed unaware of his thievery, which had undoubtedly contributed to her suffering. Perhaps he took too much. Signs of anemia and dehydration showed in her unstable posture and lethargic motions.

Yet part of his mind demanded he hadn’t taken enough. Forget this mortal. Annalise was in trouble. So long as he remained weak, Anna remained weak. He needed to fortify his strength for the sake of Anna and the baby. Destiny was merely a mortal, a weaker link in the food chain. Her cursed fragility was her own fault. He had to keep his focus on Anna and the baby.

The baby…

His gut clenched hard with regret. “Enough stopping. We have to keep moving.”

“I need a minute,” she barked, still massaging her temples.

“You’ve taken several. We must go.” The sun was setting and they had yet to find a safe place to bed down. The safest choice was to keep traveling toward the farm.

“I’m not fucking moving,” she snapped then winced. “My head is throbbing.”

Cain pressed into her mind only to hit instant resistance. A strange sting prickled along his scalp, and Destiny’s face scrunched tight as if sharp pain stabbed through her temples. He scowled at her stubbornness, but she seemed unaware she was deflecting him. Maybe she wasn’t. Perhaps he was simply too weak.

Mortals need constant rest to survive and heal their feeble bodies. If he could compel her to sleep, he could carry her, but attempting to do so only sapped more of his energy. Depleted as he was, he wasn’t sure he even possessed the strength to lift her for more than a few miles.

Furious with such unusual limitations he snapped, “We’re moving. Let’s go.”

“No. I want to go home.”

He spun and growled in her face, “Do you think I care what you want? We’re in this predicament because of you!”

“Me? You’re the one who—”

“Enough!” He snapped, gripping her shoulders tightly and ignoring her whimper of pain. He shook her roughly. “I decide, not you. We must get back to my family. No more stopping. No more lagging. No more crying. Shut your mouth and obey—”

The slap came out of nowhere. Stunned she’d been able to sneak in such a blow he staggered back a step.

She blew up like a rooster about to rouse the world. “Fuck off!”

His molars locked and he barreled forward, but she didn’t stagger back as expected. Nose to nose, he glared at her. “Listen here, little girl. I’m bigger, stronger, and you do not want to disobey me.”

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