Page 63 of Wild Games

I fall silent. That’s the part I don’t have figured out.

“More help from Zane’s team is coming tomorrow.” Her voice stays steady, but I catch the flicker of hurt in her eyes, and the slight tension in her jaw. “If I’m not wanted here, I’ll go. Take the next assignment. Move on.”

A vicious snarl flies from my lips, but she looks at me with the patience of a mother dealing with a toddler’s tantrum.

“It’s not that simple…” Does she not see that I’m trying to protect her?

“It is.” She cuts me off with a bittersweet smile. “I trust you. And I want you. All of you. But I’ve already waited for a man who didn’t want me enough before. And I won’t do it again.”

She climbs the stairs without another word.

As the door closes behind her, I slump against the chains, her scent still surrounding me, her taste still on my lips.

Jealousy floods through me at the thought of someone having her and not treasuring her, not fighting to keep her. And the thought that she’ll leave here, move to a new job, probably be pursued by other males, makes my blood bubble with rage.

The thought of another wolf touching her, marking her, making her smile the way she smiles at me, turns my vision red.

The chains groan dangerously as my wolf demands we act now, muscles bunching with the need to hunt, to eliminate any threat to what’s mine.

With one final furious lunge, the chains snap, leaving silver shackles around my wrists as the broken links fall to the ground with a loud clank.

As I stare at the chains, that realistically I could have broken at any point, a glimmer of hope lights inside me. Maybe she is right. Maybe I do have some control when it comes to her.

But that’s not going to help me with the council.

I pace, chest heaving, Dean’s words echoing in my ears.

If I want to have a future with my mate, I need to get my act together.

28

JAX

I've been pacing the basement for hours. The chains drag behind me with each turn, metal scraping concrete. The broken silver shackles are still locked around my wrists, cutting deeper into flesh that won't heal properly until they're off.

My wolf has been raging, replaying every second of her on her knees before us. And how she walked away.

I reach out across our tentative bond, making sure she’s still in the building. She is, but as I focus on the thin tethers that stretch between us, I don’t like the feelings I’m getting.

My heartbeat picks up, all thoughts of apologies, promises, and choosing the right words are gone from my mind.

Something's wrong.

I stop mid-stride. Not pain. Something else. Pressure building in my chest.

My wolf stirs. Mate.

She's fine, I tell him. Sleeping in the clinic. There’s no way Dean would have let her go back to the cabin by herself.

But the feeling gets worse. My wolf paces in my skull, agitated.

Go to her, my wolf demands.

No. She told us to think. To decide. We're doing what she said.

The pressure sharpens. My wolf slams against my control, and this time, I pay attention. This isn't just restlessness. Something is really wrong.

She could be in danger.