A Mate's Denial(26)
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He felt her panic as if it was his own. Needed to calm her down.
She dropped to her knees beside him. “It’s bad. You need a hospital. We need to call an ambulance. You’re losing too much blood. You… you… I can’t do this again. You have to live.”
“Baby, listen. I will heal. I just need to get inside. Where’s Farrow?”
She shook her head. “Farrow?”
“The man… in the house.”
“I… I hit him. He’s down.”
“You hit him? With what?”
“A skillet,” she screeched. “What does it matter?”
Fuck. A skillet. Cast iron, he’d bet. It kind of made him proud.
“Okay. Okay, baby. Calm down. Come here.”
She leaned over him, her tears falling on his battered chest.
“I need you to touch me.”
“Wh-where? There’s so much blood…” Her voice dropped out.
“Face.”
She laid her shaking hand on his cheek.
“Yes, that’s perfect.”
Already, his wolf was healing his body. But the touch of his mate amplified the process. Wolf was only half. Mate completed him. Together. The magic was in their togetherness.
More proof that he needed her, that his life would be shit without her.
“More,” he pleaded.
She used both hands now, rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs. Petting his hair. Her forehead pressed against his. “What is happening?” she whispered.
“Don’t stop.”
She kissed his lips, carefully. Gently. Over and over, while he focused on breathing. He felt his wounds patching, healing, pulling together. Ripped blood vessels mending.
Kerrigan gasped. “Trager. You’re skin. It’s… it’s…”
“I know.”
“What is this?” Her voice was the strangest mixture of happy and terrified.
“I have so much to explain. I promise, I’ll tell you everything.” In another few minutes he’d be able to stand. Then he’d see to Farrow, and set everything straight with his mate.
***
Kerrigan stared at the faux granite countertop in Trager’s kitchen. She counted the black spots in an area about the size of her fist. There was a hundred and nine, but she wasn’t sure if she’d counted them all, so that number probably wasn’t accurate.
Trager and his… whatever… were arguing, and although she knew what they were arguing about, all her brain heard was blah, blah, blah, mate, blah.
This was the twilight zone. Had to be. None of this was real. Not the people who shifted into animals, not the threat to the pack, not her responsibility to help them—as Farrow had put it—and most certainly not Trager.
A fist came down hard on the counter. “This is ridiculous. All you have to do is come with Trager to the camp, so he can talk to the alpha. One night. That’s all it would take, and then we can take it from there.”
“Leave her alone, Farrow.” Trager’s voice was lethal.
“It’s the only way they’ll take the threat seriously, Tra. You know that. And now that my mate—your sister, might I remind you—could be in danger, I’m not willing to wait any longer. Her safety is all I care about.” Farrow flung his arm in her direction. “She needs to grow a spine.”
“I swear,” Trager snarled, “if you don’t back down, I’m going to rip you to shreds. Again.”
Farrow bent over the counter, pushing into Kerrigan’s space bubble. Her gaze broke from the counter to glare at him. “Is it really that much of a sacrifice, pretending to be his mate for a night? Just help us warn the alpha, and then you can leave, okay? I know you don’t want him, but—“
The growl that cut him off was purely animalistic. There was no human sound to it. Before she had a chance to react, Farrow was jerked backwards by his neck. Trager threw a punch to his face so quickly, it was like watching a movie on fast forward. Then another, and another.
No. This was ridiculous.
“Trager, stop.”
He didn’t listen.
“Stop!” she screamed.
He jerked to a halt, Farrow stumbling backwards.
“I’ll go. I’ll do it. Just stop.”
Trager’s bare chest heaved with ragged breaths. He turned back to Farrow, yanking him by the hair, toward the door. “Never, ever come back here. I’ll kill you if you do, and being my sister’s mate won’t save you.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Mate comes before sister. Always. Remember that.”
With that, he shoved him out the door, and slammed it. The silence after the rattle of the walls, was deafening. Trager stood stock still, head down, fists clenched.