Page 131 of Burdened Bonds

“Am I interrupting something?” Stone asks.

Immediately Azlan drops my hand and Renzo’s too. His cheeks are flushed and, with his gaze fixated on the ground, he marches out of the kitchen, pushing past his friend in the doorway.

“What was that about?” Stone says watching his friend go.

“We were casting protection spells,” I say.

Stone swivels his gaze back to me. “Are you sure? It looked like you were playing nursery games.”

“I’m sure.”

Stone nods. “I thought you might like to know that we’ve finished healing all Spencer’s injuries.” He rubs a hand against his beard. “He was in a pretty bad way. A really fucking bad way. Those people really are sick.”

“But he’s okay now?”

“Physically, yeah, but emotionally … I think you should go talk to him, Rhi.”

50

Spencer

The doorof the bedroom creaks open and Rhi stands in the doorway. Tristan lounging on the end of the bed where I’m laid out, jumps to his feet.

“Rhi,” he says.

“I need to talk to Spencer,” she tells him, then turns her head to look at me.

“Yeah,” Tristan says. “I think you should.”

She steps into the room and the overhead light catches her face. I think about Jacob, what he asked me.

Is she pretty?

Fuck, she’s damn pretty, far prettier than I even remembered. Those plush pink lips, those honey eyes, her soft skin. I’d hardly noticed her when she first arrived at the academy – this small, scrawny thing who seemed to hide in the shadows. I didn’t appreciate how pretty she was untilthat first day on the mats when I’d gazed down into her face and the thing in my gut had tugged me towards her, tugged me hard.

Tristan hesitates, then walks towards the doorway, stroking his hand down her arm as he passes her, making her body shiver. He steps outside, closing the door behind him and then it’s just the two of us.

For a moment we simply stare at each other, both knowing there are things that need to be said, neither knowing how to say them.

Although my body’s mended, I’m tired, drained by everything that’s happened. Yet, being in her presence revives me, has me alert and attentive.

She takes a step forward, then another, then seeming to make up her mind, walks around to the bed and lays herself down alongside me on the mattress, resting back against the cushions, her hands resting in her lap.

“Thank you,” I say finally, “thank you for rescuing me. I hear it was your idea.”

“You left,” she says.

“Wh-what?” I say, taken aback by the aggression in her voice.

“You left. You turned your back on our bond and you left.”

I hang my head in shame.

“You know the truth now,” I mutter. “You know what I am.”

“A werebeast.”

I cringe at the word. A werebeast. A mutt. A curseded. I swallow. “So you must see, you must understand. I had no choice but to leave.”