Page 20 of Prodigal Son

Fury exploded as she shoved him back. “I’d intentionally catch myself on fire before I’d ever give obedience to an arrogant prick like you! I’m not a fucking dog, and you’re certainly not my master! Your privilege doesn’t work with me, got it?”

He wanted to throttle her. Bend her. Break her. Prove he could soften all of her hard edges and have her following him like a kitten chased a string, but he didn’t have time for any of that. Nor did he understand why her outburst impressed him on some level. If she had enough spark to yell at him, she surely had enough energy to keep moving. In a strange way, he was starting to like the stubborn brat.

“Walk.”

“No.”

They scowled at each other, neither one backing down. He scoffed and pivoted away, calling her bluff. “Fine. Stay here and die. The sun’s setting and you won’t make it past dawn on your own.” He purposely bumped his arm into her shoulder as he marched toward home.

Mortal women were the death of immortal men, and he should have never gotten tangled up with this one. He was a fool for trying to help her. Had he left her for dead, he could have easily found another blood source on his own. She was not his priority. Anna was his only responsibility.

His mind instantly wrapped around his sister-by-law, hating that he’d trained himself to label her as such. Annalise was so much more than a sister to him. She was a fraction of his soul—but she also shared the soul of his twin brother, Adam.

Never had there been a recorded case of two males sharing a call to one female until both he and Adam experienced their calling to Annalise. Adam would have never been able to successfully bond with Anna had Cain not permitted it. It was his life’s greatest sacrifice.

Without a mate, an immortal had no purpose. Hunting the creatures in the woods seemed an honorable cause, but it was far from satisfying in comparison to his brother’s life. And look where Cain’s foolish cause landed him.

He glanced back at Destiny who grudgingly followed several yards behind. Her palpable disdain wasn’t a new concept. Females tended to resent him long before ever entertaining softer emotions toward him. Anna also didn’t love him, at least not the way he’d hoped she would. Not the way she loved Adam.

He should be grateful he maintained his brother’s affection, although that might be gone now. Was the baby gone? Why couldn’t he feel Anna?

His speed doubled. He wanted no woman who loved another man, yet he could not shut off his affection and loyalty toward Anna. It had grown more platonic with time, but somehow more intense as well. Her safety meant everything to Cain, and he’d jeopardized that.

For all of Adam’s noble traits, Cain knew his brother dreamt of a simpler life without him, one where Anna wasn’t sharing another man’s dreams or endangered by Cain’s choices. The moment Cain’s destiny had been forsaken he should have ended his unfulfilling life, but death wasn’t an option, not while Anna suffered all of his injuries the same.

He was cursed. There was no other way to explain it. Cursed by an endless, bleak, lonesome eternity. The loss of his soul mate would likely require an eternity to accept, though he might never fully understand why fate had overlooked him.

There were so many peculiarities he still struggled to comprehend. Such as why had he not lost his mind when he surrendered Anna to Adam? Cain suffered early symptoms of feeishness, but they faded the moment he shared his blood with Anna. A blood exchange was only part of the bonding. Adam had fulfilled the rest. Yet here Cain was, sane enough to process the ongoing agony of his circumstances. Insanity would have been a welcomed sign of God’s mercy.

He inwardly sneered. What kind of god allows such suffering? Certainly not a merciful one. With his mate, he surrendered the dwindling scraps of his faith.

Cain was a loner. Loners didn’t need a partner and they certainly didn’t need a god.

Incensed with only his own choices to blame, Cain seethed as he marched over the twisted roots of the forest floor. At the moment, anger seemed an easier emotion than worry so he reveled in his spiraling, bitter thoughts.

Adam might have Anna’s body and access to her awakened mind, but he no longer shared her dreams. Only Cain could share her unconscious mind. A selfish part of him enjoyed that he and he alone knew such an intimate, unguarded part of his brother’s wife. If he lost that link…

“Hurry up,” he barked over his shoulder.

The crunch of the underbrush filled the silence and he paused, registering the absence of Destiny’s following footsteps. He looked back, squinting through the gathering shadows but didn’t see her.

“Destiny?”

Silence answered and he huffed, retracing his steps until he spotted her body heaped on the ground.

“We don’t have time to rest. The sun is setting.”

She didn’t respond. Her lashes formed dark shadows over her pale face and her breathing was uneven. An air of malaise surrounded her like an aura. He touched the back of his fingers to her forehead and winced. Her skin burned to the touch yet she shivered.

Pressing a finger against her pulse he frowned. The accelerated thrum wasn’t a good sign.

“What do you need?” he whispered, unwelcome concern twisting his focus.

She moaned, her expression tight as her eyes remained shut. “Cansada.”

Cain didn’t know what cansada meant. Destiny spoke a different language aside from English. She often mumbled this native tongue in her sleep.

“What is consada?”

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