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A muscle at the side of his jaw twitched.

“I’m needed in Hell. You won’t see me out here anymore.

I leave in the morning. Didn’t want you to think…

” He looked lost for words. “I wanted to reassure you that you’ll still be safe, that my brothers will be here as long as you need them,” he said gruffly.

Alarm raced through me, hard and fast, like ice water had been pumped into my veins and was overflowing through all the wounds covering my body, spilling at his feet.

The level of dismay I felt was irrational, but there was no stopping it, and because of what he was, he had to feel it. No, he didn’t have much of an emotional range, but a hound understood fear when he sensed it, and the way his head jerked back, I knew I was right.

“What’s going on, Sutton?” He was frowning deeply.

“Nothing.”

“You’re afraid.” He looked around us, as if there was an enemy closing in and he was ready to tear their head off. He turned back to me when he realized there was no threat, and his brows shot up. “Are you afraid of me?”

My face burned with embarrassment, but I sure as heck wouldn’t let him believe I was scared of him. “I’m not afraid of you, the opposite in fact.”

That glowing gaze bored into me. “Spell it out,” he demanded.

As annoying and blunt as he could be, it didn’t change the fact that he deserved the truth. This male had literally saved my life. “You…you, ah…”

“I what?” he said impatiently.

My irritation flared. “You… specifically , make me feel safe, okay?” I huffed out a breath. “I have no idea why, it’s not like you’re all charm, right, Charming?” I said and rolled my eyes. “But that’s the truth of it, and I don’t… I don’t want you to go, all right?”

He stilled, and his shoulders seemed to grow wider under his jacket while he studied me some more. Finally, he grunted, the growly sound lifting goose bumps all over my skin. “I have to go. Lucifer’s orders.”

I nodded and bit down on my lips when stupid, humiliating tears sprung to my eyes. What the hell was wrong with me?

Jagger didn’t miss those either. His eyes actually widened, and he looked ready to run for the hills. “Don’t you fucking cry,” he growled out.

“I’m not going to cry,” I fired back as tears spilled over and slid down my cheeks. “Why would I cry over you leaving? That’s ridiculous.” More tears fell as a horrified Jagger watched on. “And you can’t order me not to cry, Charming. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I don’t do tears, female.”

“Well, I don’t cry. It’s just a…a psychological response to you saving my life. My brain obviously associates you with safety, that’s all. Your voice and your…your scent was the first thing I became aware of after it happened.” Oh gods, did I just say his scent ! “Don’t look at me like that?—”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to throw up.”

“Hounds don’t throw up.”

“Well, lucky you.” I kind of thought I might throw up myself. Another round of tears slid down my cheeks. There was no stopping them now.

Jagger jerked back again. “What the fuck, Sutton.”

I tried to mop them up with the sleeve of my cardigan. “Just ignore it.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

“Stop cursing at me.” Now I was trembling. “You’re leaving, aren’t you? Just go.”

His fingers curled around the iron bars of the gate. “My brothers will still be around,” he said again, looking as awkward as I’ve ever seen a hellhound look.

“I know.”

“The danger’s over.”

“I know that too. I mean, logically, anyway.”

He cursed again, standing there with a strange look on his face for probably a full minute, then he shrugged off his leather vest, hooked it on the gate, and reached back, dragging off his T-shirt.

I blinked at him in shock. His wide, ripped, and tattooed chest was perfect in every way. Muscles, so many muscles that were defined as if he’d been sculpted by one of the masters, and with just the right amount of chest hair. My cheeks burned hot and my mouth went dry. “What are you doing?”

He put his leather vest back on, then shoved his hand, and the T-shirt, through the bars at me. “Take it.”

“What? Why?”

His monster biceps bulged. “Pups feel safer when they’re surrounded by their parents’ scent. It might help?”

“I’m not a pup, and you’re not one of my parents,” I said, and my parents had never made me feel safe.

“I know that,” he said, grinding his teeth. “I’m thinking the same principle could apply here?” He shrugged a gargantuan shoulder. “Fucked if I know, Sutton. You’re the one who mentioned scent. So maybe having something with mine on it will help while I’m gone?”

He was literally giving me the shirt off his back to get me to stop blubbering, and pathetic as I was, I took it from him. “Fine,” I said, barely stopping myself from pressing it to my nose right in front of him to test the theory. “Is that all you wanted? To tell me you’re leaving?”

His gaze lit up again, switching from green to gold as he jerked up his chin.

I hugged myself tighter. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Charming.” Why did this feel so awful? Why was the thought of him going so painful? The words, don’t leave me , were dancing on the tip of my tongue. “Look after yourself,” I mumbled instead.

“You, too, babe,” he said as I spun away and rushed back inside the house.

Still, he didn’t leave, he stayed until the sun came up.

I knew that because I couldn’t sleep, not when my stomach was churning and the thought of him leaving made me feel physically ill.

I’d lain there, wearing his shirt, surrounded by his scent, while I listened for the sound of his bike taking him away—like some obsessive fangirl.

It finally came when the rest of the house stirred, starting their day.

There was a pull in the center of my chest when the rumbling growl of his engine starting, reached me from outside.

The hideous feeling inside me spiked viciously, and before I knew what I was doing, I’d shoved back the covers, and not caring that I was only wearing his shirt, tore out of my room and down the stairs.

Flinging the front door open, I ran along the path. Jagger’s head jerked my way as I reached the gate. He was sitting on his bike, and my heart slammed in my chest as I punched in the security code and opened the gate.

He stood, swinging his leg over the bike and frowning. He started toward me as I ran at him.

“What’s going on?—”

I slammed into his chest, wrapping my arms around his massive body, clinging to him. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but I had to do it. I couldn’t stop.

“What’s going on? Are you all right?”

I shook my head.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

I shook my head again.

He took my face in his hands, tilted my head back, and his intense green eyes searched my face. “Are you hurt? Talk to me,” he growled.

Something built in my chest until it was unbearable, and before I realized what I was going to do, I lifted to my toes and slammed my lips against his.

Jagger froze, going rock solid as fire—no, fireworks—exploded between us.

Oh my gods . Goose bumps lifted all over me, my scalp tingled, and my belly heated.

One of his massive arms banded around me, and he gave me a rough squeeze, and his lips finally moved, just once, a gentle press, then he lifted his head.

My breath was shaking when I looked up at him. I couldn’t read his expression, but his eyes glowed . His hand lifted, and he ran his fingers down the side of my face, over my hair, fisting it lightly, then released me.

He said nothing, but his chest was heaving and his nostrils were flared as he stared down at me, a rumble rolling from him.

I’d kissed him. I’d kissed Jagger. Just a touch of lips really, but it was the best kiss I’d ever experienced.

I stood back as he swung his leg over his bike. “Take care, Sutton,” he finally said, his deep voice full of grit.

Then he revved his bike and roared off down the street.

As the sound of his engine grew distant, the only way I was able to soothe the feeling of loss inside me was to fist the shirt at my chest and lift it to my nose again.