Page 51 of The Reaper's Vow

“If he touches her?—”

“He won't,” Elias interrupts, his blue eyes serious for once. “I'll make sure of it. I've already told the security team that no one enters this area of the compound without my explicit permission.”

I holster my weapon, eyeing him skeptically. “And your father's okay with that?”

“My father's distracted with the border issue. Some kind of territorial dispute with the Lockhart pack.” He shrugs, but there's tension in his shoulders.

“More like getting your father out of town while he creeps in on his business.”

“Probably, but Lockhart suspects you're with him, so there’s that.”

I grunt in acknowledgment, strapping a knife to my ankle. “If anything happens to her?—”

“You'll tear my throat out, rip my balls off, feed me my own intestines. I know the drill.” Elias's attempt at humor falls flat. “But seriously, Dom. Are you sure you're good to do this job tonight? Your control seems...tenuous at best.”

My jaw tightens. “I don't have a choice.”

“Everyone has choices.”

“Not me. Not anymore.” I check my watch, forty-five minutes until the meeting. “If I don't show up tonight, Anselm will see it as a direct challenge to his authority. And right now, he is the only thing keeping the other alphas or your brothers from making a play for Karina.”

Elias's expression softens slightly. “You really care about her.”

“She's my mate.”

“It's more than that. I've seen you kill for my father without blinking. I've seen you take bullets without flinching. But I've never seen you like this—ready to tear apart anyone who looks at her wrong.”

I turn away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “I don't have time for this psychoanalysis bullshit.”

“Make time. Because if you go out there half-crazed with bond sickness, you're going to get yourself killed. And then what happens to her?”

“I'll be fine,” I growl, shoving the last of my equipment into my pockets. “Just keep her safe.”

A soft noise from the bedroom doorway makes us both turn. Karina stands there, hair tousled from sleep, wearing one of my t-shirts that hangs to mid-thigh on her smaller frame. The sight of her in my clothes sends a wave of satisfaction through me that I struggle to restrain.

“You're leaving.”

“Put some clothes on, Karina.” The request spills from my lips as a demand. She flinches. Fuck. “Please.”

Karina looks down, realizing how naked she is in front of Elias, and moves to cover herself up with the door frame.

I force myself to stay where I am, knowing that if I get too close to her now, I might not leave at all. “I’ll be back. Just like we talked about.”

“Just be careful,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest like she's holding herself together.

I nod stiffly, not trusting myself to speak. If I open my mouth now, I might tell her everything—how the thought of leaving her tears at my insides, how every cell in my body claws to stay, how I’d rather cut off my own arm than walk out that door.

“I’ll be back before dawn,” I manage.

With one last look at Karina—memorizing the sight of her in my shirt, her scent saturating my space—I wrench myself away and stride through the door. The night air hits my overheated skin like a slap, carrying traces of other wolves on patrol around the compound. Every part of me howls to turn back, to barricade us inside until we can complete the bond under the full moon.

Instead, I force myself toward my car, each step feeling like I'm dragging lead weights. The distance from Karina creates an immediate ache in my chest.

I slide behind the wheel, gripping it so hard it creaks under the pressure.

I fucking hate this.

Every step away from Karina feels like tearing off a piece of my own skin.