Caught Beast Mate(24)

“Dewlyn told me he burned with the other dead beasts after the raid. She lied, she lied because of her beast, Vice. I thought she was my friend. I have no friends.”

“You know it’s me,” I said.

“I know your beast. Those eyes, the way your lip curls up, and the patch of reddish hair that sprouts on your shoulders. Your tattoos, your voice, your everything is in my nightmares. I remember your everything. I hate you and yours. I don’t want you to get better. I want you to die.”

I gripped the back of her head and kissed her back. She let me, opened her mouth so I could taste the sweetness of her tongue. I wanted to suck it, I wanted to devour her, but I had enough sense to let her up. “Listen to me. That beast is dead. I’m not that beast, and I’m here,” I said. “Hate is a powerful word. There’s only one other like it. It’s love, baby, and I love you. I’ve loved you all this time. When they broke my leg, I thought of you. When they broke it again, I thought about you. Out there in the desert, I thought about you. I kept going, thinking one day I’d see you again. You are all that’s kept me alive.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me. I’m…I’m bouncing with whatever gets thrown at me. From one place to the next, from one person to another. This”—she waved her hand about the room—“all that’s happening around me is some sort of twisted game where only the fittest survive. And I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do with you. You will pair…with…me…”

I blinked, my vision blurring, her voice echoing as if she were miles away. I tried to lift my hand and wipe her tears. I tried to say I’d take care of her from now and forever, but my jaw slackened, my muscles went weak and unresponsive. I swallowed drool, and my eyelids dropped.

I welcomed her soft embrace.





Chapter Eleven





Sienna



The beast slept. His breaths shallow, his body warm. During the time I’d spent with Momma Jo, he’d cleaned up nice, even braided his hair. I hugged him once more, then glanced at the clock. It was almost one. By now, Hasel would have retired and the kitchen would be empty. I took the vial and the stopper, put those in my pocket, and cleaned up around the sleeping beast. Perhaps I could’ve found it in me to forgive him. Perhaps I would have if I didn’t believe Momma Jo would shun me for not following her instructions.

Nobody would know, I told myself as I left his room. Nobody would know I’d poisoned him. He would pass in his sleep. Hasel and the others would think he’d died from his wounds, that his body couldn’t recover, or that he’d self-medicated more than he should’ve. On the other hand, had I not killed the beast, everyone in the human wing would know I’d disobeyed a direct order from Momma Jo. Momma Jo would declare me a “beast lover” and shun me as an outcast. Where would I go, then? To the beast side with Torrent? I shook my head. I couldn’t. He’d taken everything from me.

And, damn him, I shouldn’t feel guilty.

Down the hall, I rounded the corner and went into the basement where Hasel stored medicine. I took three vials—as many as Hasel had given me before—emptied them down the sink, and put them in my pocket, then went back into Torrent’s room and dropped them on the floor by the bed. Two broke into pieces. It was done. He’d overdosed.

Now what? I had to act like all was normal. I didn’t know where to go, where to hide, so my feet, as if of their own accord, took me outside, past Cole, who shouted after me, and straight inside the shed.

I bolted the door behind me, then leaned against it. I fisted my hands at my sides, nervously biting my lip, waiting for someone to chase after me, call me a murderer, and end my life. I stayed like that for quite some time, perhaps five minutes, perhaps fifty, I couldn’t tell, and when no shouting came from the main house, on shaky legs, I walked a few steps to the workbench and got my spare backpack from behind it. Inside, I didn’t have fresh water, but the week-old water bottle would sustain me for a few days. I walked to the door, hand on the wooden bolt.

I should leave.

Definitely.

But if I left, they’d know. They’d know, and Daddy wouldn’t find me. I had to stay at the community.

It was the beast or me, and I’d eliminated him, moved on with my sad existence.

Backpack off my shoulder, I decided to spend the night working. One of the benefits of growing up with a guy was that I knew how shit worked. Like this engine I’d found in the shed. I was trying to fix it so that I could put an engine on the bicycle and make myself a motorbike. If I made this work, I wouldn’t have to pedal through sand when I got out to mark the community for my dad.