Page 28 of The Enemy to the Living (The Wild Hunt #2)

Asher

Q uinn is silent all the way back to my flat. I’m worried, of course, but I’d be more worried if he stopped curling into me the way he’s been doing the whole journey.

Once we’re inside, he trembles. I run my hands over him, absently noting the dried blood on his T-shirt. When I press down on the spot, he doesn’t wince, so I figure the wounds have already healed. “Shower,” I murmur, and Quinn blinks at me, then nods.

I turn the shower on and leave him in the bathroom with a pair of clean jogging bottoms as I make us both tea. He shuffles out a quarter of an hour later and drops into the chair next to me at the table.

“No T-shirts left?” Quinn asks, lips quirking.

“None that would fit,” I lie.

He huffs a laugh. Shadows still haunt his eyes, but the sound heartens me. I reach over and tangle our fingers together.

“I’ll get one if you want it.”

Quinn shakes his head. He doesn’t let go of my hand, and we drink the rest of our tea in silence.

I take him upstairs afterwards. He makes a quiet sound when I leave the room, but my own shower is brief and I only drag boxers on before I climb into bed next to him.

Quinn shuffles closer, tangling our legs together beneath the duvet. It’s already light out.

“Asher,” he says. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you everything.”

I kiss his cheek and wrap my arms around him. “It’s okay. Let’s get some sleep.”

Sleep eludes me for a while, and when I do drop off, I wake every half hour or so, somehow convinced that Quinn will have slipped away without my noticing.

He hasn’t. He sleeps fitfully too, whimpering and shaking, and I miss my wolf more than I ever have because if I still had him, I’d be able to shift and curl around Quinn, keep him wrapped up tight.

He wakes early in the afternoon. A small groan escapes, and I back off a little, stopping when Quinn’s grip on my side tightens.

“Asher?”

“Yeah, darling, I’m here.”

The word slips out. I don’t mean it to. Quinn’s cheeks go pink and his gaze darts away.

“Sorry, I—”

“No,” he interrupts. “I like it.”

“You didn’t sleep well.”

“No.”

“Quinn, what happened? Before you called me?”

He swallows hard, free hand plucking at the sheets. “When I got back to my flat the other night, Drew was there.”

“In your flat?”

“Yeah. He has a key, I guess. I mean, I know Kieran does.”

“Why? They shouldn’t—”

“Not as if I’m paying rent, is it?” Quinn shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not bothered about him being there. I’m bothered about what I did.”

“Yeah. Okay. What happened?”

“We… He asked who’d hurt me, first. If you’d —” Quinn sucks in a sharp breath. “I told him no. And then he asked me if I blame him for my parents’ deaths.”

Tears spring to his eyes and I hold him a little more tightly.

“We just got into it after that. I mean, I did. I-I told him that it was his fault. He left me there. Kieran left us both there, but Drew didn’t even tell me he was going to leave. And now he’s happy and has his mates, and I think part of me is happy for him, but I—”

He whimpers and I draw him close, pressing our foreheads together.

“Quinn…”

“I killed someone. That vampire. I did kill him. Maybe I should have pushed for the challenge with Augustine.”

“Augustine wanted to kill you.”

“I killed his partner. And everyone I know… I don’t know , Asher. I think I need to leave here. I don’t think they understand me at all.”

I sigh. Quinn’s pack has fucked up a little, but more as a result of their own grief and fear and need for survival than anything else.

“You have to finish with the fae first,” I murmur, and Quinn’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t indicate whether he agrees or not. “And then we can take it from there, okay?”

“We?”

“Yeah. I’ll help. You know that.”

“I don’t. I didn’t.”

“Drew won’t be upset forever. I’m sure he knows what you meant.”

“I hope not.”

“Why?”

“I did mean it. I know it’s not all his fault. I know what Hale and Tamesis did. But if he hadn’t left—Things might have been different if he had stayed.”

I sweep a hand up and down his back and kiss his forehead. “You can’t dwell on that, pup. We can’t change what happened.”

“No?” He huffs. “You don’t have magic for that?”

“Someone out there probably does, but not me.”

“What if he hates me forever? What if Sam hates me for making him upset?”

“Then I’ll keep you here,” I murmur because I can’t imagine letting him go now, not for a second. “We’ll have our own pack of two if you want.”

Quinn is silent for a long time—long enough that I lean back to look at him. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted. “You—You’re serious.”

“Of course I am.”

“But you’re part of the Hunt.”

I can’t explain what I feel, mostly because I don’t understand it myself. Quinn has wormed his way under my skin and right here, right now, I don’t ever want to let him go.

“I serve the Hunt,” I say, an agreement, “but I won’t abandon you, Quinn. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I just did.”

“Asher—”

“Quinn.” I shuffle down the bed until our faces are level. He looks so serious, and I know that’s usually how I am, but I mean every word I’ve said to him—every word I’ve ever said to him, come to think of it. “Can you trust me? I’ll never abandon you. No matter what.”

He bites his lower lip, then shakes his head. “What if not abandoning me meant you’d get hurt?”

“Then I’ll be hurt.”

“ Asher ,” he says, still with that same hint of disbelief from before, but I care little for that when he presses a trembling hand to my cheek and kisses me.

I fight the eagerness that makes my heart want to leap out of my chest, instead keeping things slow and gentle.

Quinn groans into my mouth when I splay one hand over his back and my entire body shakes in response.

“Quinn,” I breathe when we part. The taste of him lingers on my tongue. “We should rest some more.”

It’s a weak out, but I don’t think taking things any further right now would be a good idea. Quinn’s lips twitch. He kisses me again, more of a brush of his lips against mine than anything else, and then settles in my arms.

“Like this?” he asks.

I wrap my arms around him and fight the urge to throw a leg over him too, see if I can keep him safe and whole next to me by tangling him up in my limbs. “Perfect, darling.”

He flushes like he did before and makes a pleased little sound. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of him. For a second, it’s as though I’m entirely in sync with myself—like my wolf is merely out of sight, instead of well and truly gone.

I don’t say anything about it. The feeling swells and settles, and by the time Quinn’s breathing has evened out, I’m back to myself again.

I try to fall asleep again, but it’s difficult. My mind spins out a million different scenarios—I want to keep Quinn here, keep him with me, but I know the Huntsman will have his own opinions, and I need to be careful not to anger him because without his blessing, I’ll be gone.

At some point, I must drift off because I wake to the sound of my phone buzzing on the bedside table. Quinn is still in my arms, face pressed against my chest, and I smile and kiss the top of his head before I reach back and snatch up my phone.

Vlad. Of course. There’s a chance I could not answer and face no consequence, but perhaps not today.

“Vlad,” I murmur when I answer the call. Quinn sleeps on, but I don’t want to risk disturbing him, and I think climbing out of bed, letting him go, will do that.

“Asher,” Vlad replies. “The wolf is dead.”

I don’t flinch. Only just. Vlad is blunt as ever. “I know.”

“Very well. We will make moves to capture the twins tomorrow. Maurice identified some vampires last night who he would like to question before we take them.”

“Sounds good. Do you need anything from me before then?”

Vlad is silent for a moment. “Are you with the wolf, Asher?” He doesn’t sound all that surprised when he speaks, but I can hear the undertone in his voice.

My hackles rise. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Quinn. Are you with Quinn?”

He’s worked out then that Quinn means something to me. Of course he saw him the first night we went in, same as I did. I can’t even be certain that Vlad didn’t notice him last night. There’s a good chance he’s far better with his blessing than I know.

“What if I am?”

“Just…” Vlad sighs heavily. Wherever he is, I doubt Grant is too close. I’d be able to hear him right now. I’m sure he has opinions about all this. “Be careful. Please. He is far too entangled in all this.”

I’m going to get him out of it , I don’t say. Mostly because it’s not true. Quinn’s going to get himself out of this, and I’ll be there for him through it.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Make sure you’re with us tomorrow night.”

“I will be.”

I hang up and drop my phone back on the bedside table, then settle in next to Quinn again. He blinks awake a few seconds later, though I think maybe he wasn’t asleep for half of the conversation.

“Am I causing trouble, being here?” he murmurs.

“No. Of course not, no.” I stroke my fingers gently down the side of his face. “Are you feeling any better?”

He blinks again slowly. The smile that crosses his face is small, but it grows the more I look at him, so sweet that my chest aches. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.” I want to kiss him again, but I don’t. It’s not all about that. Quinn seems to agree. He tucks himself up against me again—we’re practically the same size, but it works—and runs his fingers over my tattoos.

There’s one spot still conspicuously free on my chest. It’s right where a mating bond would go, if I’d ever had one. Iris has something designed. I passed on drawings from an artist I used before her, and from one I used before that.

We’ve yet to put ink to skin, though. It’s been centuries, and I’m still not ready.

“What’s going to go here?” Quinn asks. The words are hardly louder than a breath.

I catch his hand and bring it up to my mouth, then press my lips gently to the tip of each finger. Quinn’s breath hitches.

“My wolf,” I say against his palm. His fingers jerk for a second before they relax.

“When are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know. When I’m ready. I’m not ready yet.”

Quinn hums. He presses his face to my throat and kisses the base of it. “Okay.”

“Some wounds take a long time to heal. You know that, don’t you? You can go at your own pace.”

“Yeah,” Quinn says, voice sounding a little thicker. “I know.”

We fall silent for a while, not sleeping, not ready to get up and move around. I’m comfortable here, warm and safe, and though the rest of the Hunt might be the closest allies I’ve had since I lost my wolf, I’ve not felt pack like this since then.

I can get there with them. With Grant and Paxton, for sure. With Maurice too, though I imagine that will be like putting a cat amongst the wolves. The others are softened by the rest of them.

It’s not a bad thing. We all know it’s not bad . Things are changing, and we’re all changing with them.

The buzz of Quinn’s phone is what startles us both this time. He goes tense in my arms, then pushes up so, for a second, all I’m staring at are the smooth planes of his chest. I clear my throat, and he flushes, then rolls to snatch up his phone.

Whatever the message, his face pales, and I fight the urge to take his phone from him and look. “Is it your pack?” I ask.

“No.”

The twins, then. Another fight? I clench my jaw, irritated beyond belief that I didn’t figure things out earlier. I have no idea what exactly Quinn has to do to keep up his end of whatever bargain they’ve struck, and now I’m not sure I ever will know.

“I have to go,” he says and makes sure the screen is dark on his phone before he sets it aside. “Can I come and see you tonight?”

A sudden eagerness enters his voice, and the way his body turns towards mine. I sit up, moving close enough that we share our next breath. “Yes, of course.”

His smile returns. It’s dimmed, compared to before, but it’s there all the same. Quinn nudges his nose against mine, then kisses me again. His lips linger, tongue darting out to taste, and he presses forward with an intent that hasn’t been present so far.

“I’ll wait for you outside the pub?”

“No, I’ll meet you here,” Quinn says and licks his lips. His eyes darken. “We’ll stay here.”

“Oh, will we?”

I’m anticipating the next kiss, and I grip the back of Quinn’s neck and swallow his groan. Whatever is going to happen tonight, Quinn seems pleased about it. Excited. Maybe he’ll have fulfilled whatever end of the bargain the twins gave him. Maybe it’s all over.

Cheeks flushed, lips swollen, Quinn pulls back, breathing hard. “Tonight,” he says, and I grin back at him.

“Tonight.”