Page 105 of Immortal Bastard

“Good. Quiet is preferable at the moment. You’re my mate, and it’s time you understood the full scope of what that means. I expect you downstairs in five minutes.”

The door shut behind him with a conclusive snap.

Well…

Her mind reeled over everything she’d just overheard. Dane said he would help her leave the next time she tried to escape.

Dane also hurt Christian and, for that, she didn’t like him. But that made no sense. She had no reason to feel protective about Christian. She didn’t like him either.

Maybe she disliked Dane because he didn’t help her before and then he spoke to her in that condescending way that implied she was someone else’s property. He wasn’t trustworthy then, so why should she trust him now?

Tangled up with the urge to comfort her captor when she should be running for her life, she paced. The desire to escape overwhelmed her, but so did the ache in her heart, an ache that was not of her own pain.

Rubbing a hand over her chest, she wondered how she could feel such empathy for someone she hated. She physically felt his stress like a tightening web chilling her heart.

This was stupid. Christian wasn’t there. She could finally run. All she had to do was get up and go. Her mind reviewed the layout of the farm and she tried to think of the fastest route. How far was civilization? If she moved quickly…

He would be faster. Damn it.

But Dane would help her. Good old, untrustworthy Dane.

Dane. Christian’s half-brother. Dane, the guy who hurt Christian’s feelings. Gah! She was being ridiculous. None of this mattered. She hated Christian.

But again, he was in pain. She could feel it. Like, really feel it, as if his emotions were opening her chest. Empathy consumed her heart, indecision twisted her gut, until her mind instinctively reached for his.

An impenetrable wall slammed down between them, and she jerked back and stiffened.

Oh no he didn’t.

Shocked he would actually shut her out, she stomped to the door. He wasn’t waiting in the hall, hovering like he usually did. She scoped out the other rooms, wondering if he was spying from one of the doorways, but the other bedrooms were empty.

Without their mental link, she relied on her other senses to find him. Shutting her eyes, she breathed in and found his comforting scent.

Comforting? No, she meant familiar.

Creeping down the stairs, trying not to make a sound, she held her breath as the last step creaked under her weight. Pausing, she held her breath and glanced toward the open parlor, craning her neck to see the kitchen.

Christian braced his hands on the counter, his shoulders hunched and his back tense as his head dropped low. Her brow pinched. She couldn’t connect with him mentally, but the force and intensity of his pain nearly toppled her.

A soft breeze teased the loose hair at her shoulders and her head turned. The front door was open, hanging cockeyed off the hinges. She didn’t even have to touch it. She could slip right through the narrow crack. Two seconds and she could be gone.

She took a step, only to pause and look back at the kitchen. A strange tethering knot tugged at her gut, urging her to go to him as much as the temptation of freedom pushed at her back. Her brow pinched, and she looked at the front door once more. Jaw locked, she swallowed back a frustrated growl.

“Shit,” she hissed, her hand sliding down the banister as she rounded the staircase, softly padding toward the kitchen.

“Good, we can begin,” he said without turning the moment she entered the kitchen.

She gently placed her hand on his back and he tensed, glancing over his shoulder in question. They held each other’s stare for a pregnant moment.

She didn’t like being shut out any more than she liked being trapped in. “Are you okay?”

His eyes closed and his brow creased with worry. Mouth tight, he shook his head. “I’m losing you.”

“You haven’t lost me yet.” She didn’t understand why she reassured him or said such things. It was a lie. She was gone the moment she had the chance…

But she had the chance now. The door was wide open. What was she doing?

He didn’t deserve her compassion, but she couldn’t leave him like this. Sometimes, people just needed a moment without fear or pressure. A moment to catch their breath. Maybe they both did. This week had taken a toll on both of them, and her nerves were rubbed raw.

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