Chapter 10
Sylvan
I was going to wipe her tears away.
But her flinch destroyed me.
Her reaction to me raising my hand burns in my mind. I can’t stop thinking about it. I would never harm her like that. Ever.
Did someone hurt her before? Did someone hit her?
I want to go back to the market and gut the male witch inside out. The only thing that would satisfy my werewolf right now is wearing his intestines like a fucking scarf, but that isn’t happening unless I truly want to put us both in danger.
My reaction was poor. This isn’t me. I’m always in control. I’m always measured with my decisions.
Except when it comes to Morgan.
We have three days until the next full moon, but I have no real plan to keep her safe. I’m certain having her in her room isn’t enough. But it’s not like I can lock her away. I’m not that insane. Yet.
She tears me apart. I can’t stop thinking about her expression. Her flinch. What happened to put that look in her eyes?
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the fear.
I gather the groceries from the foyer and put them away in the kitchen, fighting myself for a sense of normalcy.
My ass cheek hurts from my claws digging into her ass.
This is all too much. For both of us. I don’t even know where to start between the darkness we saw, the two snotty witches I want to murder, and the quickly approaching full moon. She brought out the absolute worst in me.
I listen for her. She hasn’t gotten out of bed yet, and I can still hear the soft sniffles from her crying. Panic claws at me, sharp and unyielding. But even sharper is the misery that follows.
I made her cry. I scared her. I overreacted and now I have no idea how to fix it. I’m not cut out for this. I’m not good with other people. There’s a reason I don’t have any real friends and why I’ve been a lone wolf for so long.
My heated shoulders are uncomfortable against the fabric of my shirt, which means she’s sunburned too. On top of everything else.
With a sigh, I pull out my phone and settle in at the kitchen nook. Werewolves don’t get sunburns. I have no idea how to take care of one, but I’m going to learn.
After a few minutes of reading, I find out what she needs. Aloe vera, ibuprofen, and rest. Unless we want to find a witch who is a healer, but . . . after our disaster in town, I think we’ll be outcasts.
I don’t know how bad her burn is. Not as bad as some of these are. I can never let her get truly sunburned. Photos flash on the screen and I growl. How could she let her stubbornness keep her from putting sunscreen on?
Never again. I’ll always keep some on hand for her from now on. Next time, I’ll pin her down and slather it all over her. Fuck, well I like that idea far too much.
Morgan can hate me all she wants, but I don’t care. It’s my job to protect her.
Actually I do care about her hating me. I don’t want her to be scared of me.
Fuck.
What do I do? Text Catriona again and be laughed at? She’s the only person I can think of who would have any idea how to fix this.
Reluctantly, I pull up her contact and press the call button. It rings a couple times, but then she answers.
“Finally,” I growl. “Are you busy?”
She snorts. “Wow. Why? Are we becoming friends, Sylvan Lunova?”
“No. Of course not. I need your help.”
“Again? What happened this time? Did you knot the witch?”
I don’t like her laugh or the way she’s already figured out this is about Morgan. “Shut up, Cat.”
Cat’s snickering turns into outright laughter. “Oh goddess, this must be bad.”
I glare at the table in front of me, tracing the wood grain with my fingertips. “I overreacted and commanded her.”
Cat’s laughs fall silent.
“I commanded everyone in the store, so now there will be whispers. And a witch knew me. He knew my history. He called me heir.”
“Did she notice that?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. She hasn’t asked.”
“Will you tell her the truth if she does?”
“No. I can’t.” I can’t talk about it with anyone. “But then I was rough with her and I made her cry and I have no idea what to do. I would never harm her. I . . .” My chest is tight. I feel nauseous. “I don’t know what to do.”
She’s quiet for a few seconds, but then clears her throat. “Did you apologize?”
“How could words possibly fix what I just did?”
“Well, what the fuck did you do to her? Did you hurt her?”
“My claws came out. She got a sunburn. Did you know witches get sunburns? Do daimons?”
“No. Well, yes. When you become mated and don’t know any better about staying out on the beach for six hours in high summer.”
I make a face. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. My mates took good care of me.” She sighs, and I hear voices in the background. “Okay, well. Leo wants to talk to you.”
I frown. Leo is one of her werewolf mates. He’s a beta. I like him alright, but I don’t really want to speak to him about my personal business. Reluctantly, I agree. “Sure, I guess.”
She hands him the phone, and his voice is gruff. “Is the witch your mate?”
I immediately bristle. “No. I don’t know. No. There’s no way she is. I don’t think she is.”
“You’d know because your wolf would want her.”
Panic rears up. “No, no. No.” Yes, yes, yes the wolfish part of me chants.
“If she’s your mate and you don’t soothe her next heat, you’ll both suffer. Cat told us about your situation. The binding spell. That’s fucked, but you have bigger problems. The moon is almost here. Take your mate, Sylvan. She’ll need you.”
I can’t handle this. Especially from a fucking beta wolf. He doesn’t understand what I’m going through. “It’s complicated, and I don’t really need your opinion on things, Leo.”
He chuckles, completely unbothered. “You can be angry about it, but I’m telling you. If you don’t knot your mate—”
I hang up and toss my phone down on the table.
Who the fuck does he think he is? I’ve met Leo once, maybe twice. He has no idea what he’s talking about.
A text comes through from Cat.
Catriona
He’s right, you know. If she IS your mate, this next full moon will be brutal and could be a risk to her health. Don’t be afraid of finally trusting someone else, Sylvan. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have a home.
I don’t deserve anything. I swallow hard and flip my phone over so the screen won’t distract me. Fuck.
Well, that didn’t help.
Morgan has stopped sniffling, but it doesn’t lessen my gut-wrenching dread. I squeeze my eyes shut, considering my options. I can’t ignore her.
Maybe the garden has aloe vera. I run my fingers through my hair, still listening for her. My hair is going to be gray by the time we get to the end of our contract.
I get up from the table and step out onto the back porch, the heat a sticky blanket.
Summer is close, and it’s one of my favorite seasons.
I love running through the woods on a hot night with the stars out.
I love shifting beneath a June full moon.
It reminds me of my childhood before all the death.
The nights we ran as a pack and I wasn’t scared of the threats I’d heard whispered about—or really anything in the whole world.
Invincible, the way only a child can be. Bulletproof.
Except I wasn’t bulletproof. No one is. I’ve spent my entire life protecting others to atone for the fact that I couldn’t save the people I loved, but it will never be enough. I’ll always be trapped with the memories of what was and the longing for what could have been.
I’m right about the aloe vera. There’s a small red pot in the garden with the plant. I break off one of the leaves and carry it back inside. I spend the next fifteen minutes making her a paste, finding medicine, and making her iced water with a lemon.
She wasn’t even out in the sun that long. It’s concerning that she could burn that fast. I can’t understand how witches could be so fragile when they hold so much magic.
I put everything on a tray, considering how to go about this.
I don’t know how to apologize for overreacting. I’m not good with words or soothing other people—I can’t take her sadness. It’s killing me.
And I need to know who hurt her.
The flinch. I can’t let things simply sit between us after seeing that spark of fear in her eyes.
I carry everything to her room and linger at the door. She’s going to be pissed I’m back, but I’m okay with that. I’m okay with anything other than her Yes, alpha-ing me. I go to kick the door open, but then pause.
I should probably knock. Right? Even though the door is still broken. I guess the house hasn’t fixed it yet.
Gently, I tap my knuckles on the wood.
“Go away.”
“I have water and aloe vera for you,” I say.
Morgan’s frustrated sigh sends a wave of relief through me. The door opens and I step in.
The scent of her fear still cloys the air. She’s sitting on the floor and she’s changed out of her dress. She’s wearing shorts and a bra. But that’s it.
My body freezes. She has to know how stunning she is, right? I hope she does.
“I want to look at your shoulders,” I grunt.
She nods, but doesn’t say anything else. I kneel next to her, but then settle down on the floor.
Cat’s words come back to me. Did you apologize to her?
I clear my throat. I’m bad at this, but I’m going to try. “Morgan, I’m sorry.”
She still won’t look at me.
“I overreacted. I should not have commanded you. I . . . I brought you aloe vera for your shoulders and chest, and ibuprofen in case you have a bad reaction.”
She makes a small noise and finally turns her head. She’s hugging her knees, her eyes shining. She looks so sad. Her skin is splotchy from crying.
I want to wipe the tears I still see, but I’m scared that if I lift my hand, she’ll make that face again. Once was enough.
“Who hurt you?” I whisper. “Tell me and I’ll kill them. Covenant be damned. I’ll hunt them to the ends of our world and tear them limb from limb. I’ll devour them for . . . for this.”
More tears spill over, but then she laughs. “She’s already dead.”
Maeve. It hits me like a bag of bricks. All of this is because of the old witch, and damn it—I had no idea just how bad she was.