Rule Breaker(219)

            That aloneness his brother had known since that moment.

            The curse that sizzled from him had Rule staring back at him with a distance Lawe no longer resented.

            How could he even apologize? To say he was sorry would be more a lie than any he had ever spoken, because it would mean telling his mate he was sorry for the understandings, the love, the complete togetherness they had found together.

            “There’s nothing to feel sorry for,” Rule stated absently as he gestured to the bartender again.

            Lawe stared at the five shot glasses, five beer bottles that stood empty on the table at Rule’s elbow again and realized he hadn’t spoken those words aloud.

            Strengthening the shields around his thoughts, he wondered just how strong that link with his brother really was. And suddenly, he wasn’t so surprised that Rule had learned so well to maneuver others so easily.

            “You’ve had enough,” Lawe finally told him, realizing Rule seemed determined to drink himself into a fighting drunk.

            Not a good thing.

            What the hell was going on here?

            “Not yet, I haven’t,” Rule sighed. “I’m still conscious.”

            ...

            It wasn’t the bleak darkness that filled him that had him drinking. It wasn’t anger or resentment; he even understood why Gypsy needed this time with her family first.

            Sort of, anyway.

            It was that damned Lion driving him insane. He could feel his instincts—fuck instincts—he could feel the Lion snapping at him furiously, demanding that he go to Gypsy now. That he force this whole “do you love me?” issue.

            It was sickening. He’d be damned if he would do it. He wasn’t going to beg her for shit.

            He frowned thoughtfully. Hell, maybe he was just going crazy.

            More than one Lion Breed had gone feral after escaping the Genetics Council’s labs. It wasn’t unheard of for any Breed to slip into the feral rages and never return. Was that what was happening to him now?

            Except mated Breeds didn’t go feral.

            There wasn’t a single instance of mated Breeds slipping into feral fever. As though the mating itself stabilized the creature’s rage.

            “Return to your mate, brother,” Rule sighed wearily as the bartender set the whiskey and beer in front of him.

            “It’s not safe here,” Lawe sighed. “If you’re going to drink yourself to a stupor, then I’ll stay with you until you’re ready to return to the hotel.”

            Rule shook his head. “Not returning yet. If I don’t get a little bit drunker, then I might embarrass myself.”

            He’d be damned if he was going to beg her to love him. He had some pride. He had some self-control.

            He lifted the shot, tossed it back, and thought with a measure of comfort that the bite of the alcohol wasn’t nearly as fierce this time.

            Staring back at his brother, Rule was amused to see the concern in Lawe’s eyes. No doubt, at the first opportunity—he snickered at the two Breeds that entered the bar. Ah well, perhaps he’d been smart enough to call in reinforcements before entering.

            He turned his gaze back to his brother broodingly.

            “Babysitters?” he asked.

            Lawe shrugged, the gesture dismissive. “I assume they’re here for a drink.”