15. Chapter 15
Gunnar
I saw it. It was horrific, and I hadn’t been able to stomach looking, not for long.
Even after getting a good look at them, my eyes won’t look away. I’m frozen in place, trying to figure out if what I’m seeing is real. How is he still alive when his chest has been torn apart?
Claw marks crisscross his chest, bisecting his left nipple. There are teeth marks on his shoulder. A savage bite mark is embedded in his arm. Scars cleave their way down his chest until they reach his groin. Such a deep cut would have disemboweled him.
I swallow hard against the sudden urge to vomit. Not from disgust. I’ve seen my share of scars and all manner of gore from countless battles. It’s because of how old these marks are. The monster that did this could have killed him. I could have lost him before I even had the chance to meet him.
It’s why I hadn’t been able to leave him.
Like a craven, I’d come into his room with the intention to end things.
It was the decision I’d come to during my run.
I would return, tell him I couldn’t do this, and leave.
In hindsight, it makes no sense. His family would have been devastated.
Arlo would have been left without the means to get his potion, although in all fairness, he likely would have devised a different plan.
He’s clever. As for me, I would have locked myself away in my cabin and let the beast have me.
What I’d felt for him had terrified me. I’d thought to end it then and there as I’d entered the bedroom and found him lying where we’d made love.
He’d been asleep, looking so peaceful and vulnerable.
I’d thought to wake him… until I saw those scars.
I hadn’t seen them when we’d lain together, so they must have appeared sometime after.
How could I leave him when he’d already been hurt so deeply?
Arlo sucks in a gasp, then another. I’m horrified when his knees give out and he crumples onto the bathroom floor, arms around his scarred upper body.
“Lo. Lo, it’s all right.” The tiles dig into my knees when I drop down beside him.
He doesn’t reply. Tremors rack his body, and he sounds as if he’s suffocating.
I reach for him, but the second my fingers brush his shoulder, my mate flinches and withdraws into himself. My heart shatters in my chest.
“Lo. What can I do? Tell me what I can do.” I feel so useless, so damned helpless. “Please, Lo. Can I hold you? Do you want me to draw you a… a bath?”
A choked sob rattles his shoulders.
Hooves clop behind me. I whirl around and find Truffles, her tail lowered and ears drooped. “I can hear his thoughts,” the familiar says softly. “He thinks you’re disgusted by him. That he’s weak and stupid and ugly.”
A lump rises in my throat. “He isn’t any of those things. What does he want? Can you tell me?”
She’s quiet for a moment, her tail flicking side to side. “He wants you to hold him, but he’s too ashamed to ask for it.”
Goddess, my sweet mate.
“Lo. Let me hold you. Please. Don’t shut me out. You’re strong and beautiful and I could never be ashamed of you.”
Arlo curls into himself with a gut-wrenching sob.
“Please, Arlo.”
He moves fast, flinging himself into my arms. The shock of his acceptance almost paralyzes me, but when he sniffs and shivers against me, I pull him into my arms and hold on tight.
He breaks down against my chest in broken sobs I’ve never wanted to hear from him.
Carefully, I lift him and carry him to the bath.
I get the water running and the tub fills quickly while I rub his shoulders and kiss his hair.
The tub’s over full, water sloshing over the sides when I settle in with him.
I hold him for what feels like hours, kissing his hair, stroking his trembling back. Arlo’s sobs quiet to whimpers and sniffles, then to slow breaths. I tighten my hold on him, worried he’ll get embarrassed and try to distance himself. My wolf needs him close.
“He was my friend,” Arlo whispers. “My best friend. I trusted him. I—I loved him.” His voice shakes, and by Fenrir, I want to howl my anguish until the walls come crashing down around us.
“H-he told me I was his chosen mate. I was scared. B-because we weren’t fated.
I thought he’d leave me for someone else if we mated.
” The words come out strangled. Arlo takes several shuddery breaths.
I want to beg him to stop, but he needs to get the pus out so this agonizing wound can begin to heal.
“It was an accident. My rejection pushed him into a berserker rage.” He heaves in a shuddering breath.
I grind my teeth against the sudden rush of fury and pain.
Now I understand why his friends and family were so suspicious of me. Why Arlo would panic around me sometimes.
“Is he dead?” The words are a growl.
“H-huh?”
“If he isn’t, I will hunt him down and make him beg for mercy at your feet before I kill him.” I mean every word. No one hurts my mate. Not ever again.
“That… shouldn’t be such a turn-on.” Arlo laughs wetly. The sound is so fragile and sweet, I want to cradle it in my hands for safekeeping. I need to remember that despite his pain, he can still find the strength to laugh.
“You are… what is that word Kieran uses? Freaky, aye?” I press a kiss to his forehead.
“Says the werewolf.” He sighs, sniffling. “No, he isn’t dead. He turned himself in to the Council, and they stripped him of his wolf. He apologized to me again and again, begged for my forgiveness, but I just—I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t trust him anymore.” A sob falls from his lips.
“Is…” I squeeze my eyes shut against the sting of tears. “Is this why you’re making that potion?”
I feel him nod. “It is. So no one else gets hurt like I was, and so wolves never have to fear hurting the ones they care about.”
My mate has the purest heart.
“That wolf wasn’t your true mate, Arlo.”
“I shouldn’t have been so selfish. Because of me, he lost control. I was so stupid—”
I hook my finger under his chin and make him look at me. “Do not finish that sentence. You will never speak poorly of yourself around me.”
His lips attempt a smile. “How about when I’m by myself?”
“I will find out.”
“No, you won’t.”
I press my mouth to his, silencing him. He doesn’t return the kiss, but he doesn’t pull away either. Tears glisten in his eyes when I pull back. “That man wasn’t your fated mate. Ask me how I know.”
His lips tremble with an attempted smile. “Because you are.”
I smile. “That, aye, but there’s another reason.” He seems too tired to guess, so I tell him as I run my fingers through his hair. “Because a wolf would sooner die than harm their fated mate.”
Arlo nods like he knows this, causing a tear to spill down his cheek. “But there are other ways you can hurt me, Gunnar.”
The pain his words cause aches worse than any wound I’ve endured. “So can you.” It makes my heart race with terror, knowing that without even trying, I’ve bared myself to him. We wolves are taught never to show our throats, never to give anyone the chance to hurt us.
If I’m not careful, I’ll give this man my heart for him to do with as he likes.
Arlo nuzzles into my chest. “I’d never hurt you.”
My arms tighten around him. “I know.”
Not intentionally.
Gods, help me. My heart’s already been broken once before. The next time it breaks, I know it will be the last.
As soon as we’re back in bed, Arlo falls asleep using my chest as a pillow.
I can’t seem to quiet my mind. My heart races as if I’ve been running. What are we doing? This was supposed to be a short-lived arrangement. It was meant to be fake, but at some point things between us started feeling real.
I care for him more than I’ve allowed myself to care for anyone in years. When did it happen, and how can I stop it?
If only my feelings were one of those… eye-phones Kieran’s always going on about. You turn them on and then turn them back off. That’s what I wish I could do with my feelings. Shut them off when they become inconvenient, turn them back on when I’m damned ready to deal with them.
The gods are cruel to have made mortals so complex.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because when I open my eyes, the room has brightened. Arlo isn’t in bed, which causes me to sit up straight, heart in my throat. Where did he go? Is he all right?
I’ve got one foot on the floor when the door opens and Arlo walks in with a bright smile. “Good, you’re awake! Just in time for breakfast.” He’s carrying a tray piled with a variety of eggs, crispy bacon, and those things Anders loves. Oh! Pancakes.
My stomach roars when he joins me in bed. “This looks like a feast worthy of Valhalla itself.”
Arlo laughs. “They have pancakes in Valhalla?”
“Surely they do.” I spear a piece of bacon and pancake on my fork and devour it, groaning at the sweet-salty flavor. We eat in companionable silence until our plates are cleared. Patting my full stomach, I lean back in bed with a contented sigh. “I’m stuffed.”
Arlo’s face brightens with pride. “That’s a relief. I haven’t cooked for anyone but myself in years.”
“So that’s why the bacon was so crunchy.”
He squawks in indignation and elbows me in the ribs.
A lie. The bacon was cooked to perfection.
“I hope you aren’t too full. We’re supposed to go cake tasting today.”
“We’re tasting cake?”
“For the wedding,” Arlo adds. “We’ll need to decide on the right flavor.”
“That won’t be a problem. I could easily fit a horse in here.”
After so much food, I’d like nothing more than to shift to my wolf and curl up for a nap. Arlo doesn’t give me the luxury, rolling me out of bed to get ready for the day. Once I’ve showered and dressed, I follow Arlo downstairs.
“You seem to be feeling much better,” I remark.
Arlo gives me a crooked smile. “Thanks to you.” He winks, making desire stir low in my stomach.
“Good morning, dears!” Nan calls from the kitchen, doing the crossword over a cup of tea.
Bill stirs cream into his coffee. “Where are you off to?” There’s no trace of a wound where he’d been struck in the barn. Seems he’s recovered.
“Cake tasting,” I say. “Then I’ll go along with whatever Arlo wants to do.”
After a sip of coffee, he adds, “Look after my boy, will you?”
I’d be less shocked if Bill had slapped me with a fish.
“Shall we also be back before curfew, Father?” Arlo teases, taking my hand and leading me to the door.
“I will,” I promise Bill.
“I know.” He tips his head at me then turns to look for something in the refrigerator. It’s not much, but it’s a start.
The frost that settled on the grass overnight is beginning to melt under the sun’s rays. Arlo unzips his coat, smiling. “Good weather today.” The cheery tone doesn’t sound forced, but his smile also doesn’t touch his eyes. He unlocks the car for me, and I settle in.
“Fancy some music?” Arlo asks as he starts the car.
“Whatever you like,” I say.
He changes the song a few times on his phone before he settles on one about a man who likes himself better when he’s with his lover. My chest tightens as I watch Arlo drive, the music flowing through the car around us. I think I understand what this singer means.
Arlo suddenly says, “About yesterday, I… I’m sorry I was such a mess.”
“You weren’t.”
He laughs bitterly. “I think we both know that’s not true. It must have been awkward having to deal with me, and I’m sorry about that. I should have had a better handle on my emotions.”
I shake my head. “Lo…” Damn it, what can I say that will convince him he could never be a burden to me? How can I tell him what it meant to me to be able to comfort him through his pain? I couldn’t comfort Leif, but being there for Arlo soothed the ache of my guilt and shame.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to show me your mess.” I wince. That sounded horrible.
“You make it sound like I peed on the carpet.”
I bark a laugh before I can help myself.
Beside me, Arlo starts giggling, which only makes me laugh harder. Then he holds out his hand in offering. I tangle my fingers with his and squeeze, turning to face the window so he doesn’t see my foolish smile.
“Thank you for being there,” Arlo says, so softly I almost don’t catch it over the music.
Heart clenching, I hold on to his hand tightly.