Chapter Twenty-Three

It took Sera, Mackenzie and half a bar of soap to get Kat clean.

She ended up in the shower at the clinic, stripped to her bra and panties as the two women helped her scrub dried blood from her skin. Jackson had sprung the locks on the handcuffs before they made it back to New Orleans, but the damage was already done.

Kat winced her way through a haphazard bandaging before Sera dragged her under the spray. Then she stretched her aching hands out in front of her and watched through a dream as the pinkish water circled the drain until it finally ran clear.

Sera braided her damp hair while Mackenzie found her a pair of scrubs to wear. By the time she had her wrists clean and redressed, Andrew appeared, his own bandage just peeking out of the neckline of his T-shirt.

He took her hand and lifted it, studying her wrist. “Okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Everything felt distant—surreal—except for the brush of his fingers. Shivering, she leaned into him. “I think I have a new understanding of pain now.”

“Julio’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “Most of the wounds are already healing.”

The wounds were the least of it, and they both knew it. Julio’s berserk frenzy had exhausted his body, but it had taken Sera’s touch to lead him back to sanity. The magic of a true submissive shapeshifter, the power to balance rage with gentle acceptance. Sera might be trapped into obedience, but the true dominants—the good ones—were just as bound by their need to protect her.

Not so different from the balance between herself and Andrew, Kat supposed, though so much cleaner.

She and Andrew would always be tangled up in an edge of danger and the knowledge that they could hurt each other. It had taken her this long to realize it didn’t matter. They were creatures of instinct, both of them, and their first impulse would be to keep each other safe.

Turning her head, Kat pressed a soft kiss over his heart. “What about Patrick?”

Andrew hesitated. “The burns on his back are probably going to scar. Right now, understandably, he’s more upset about Ben. Anna took him to the apartment over Mahalia’s to get him set up there.”

Sera had been the one to break the news about Lia, conveyed in a soft whisper as she worked bloody snarls out of Kat’s hair. Maybe it was a blessing, that Ben had never found out. That he’d died so fast, so suddenly, and with no idea that the woman he loved was already gone.

Andrew stroked the tears from her cheeks. “The cleaner settled everything. He managed to stop the fire too, so Patrick can bury Ben after the ME releases him.”

“Okay.” The numbness was fracturing. No, melting—like ice around her heart laid bare to the sun.

Andrew’s warmth surrounded her, and the lingering echoes of pain drifted up. She’d made it her own, and she’d used it, and now she had to let it go, let tears wash away everything but the knowledge that she’d never have to cry alone again.

He rocked her and murmured gently as she cried, soft assurances that no matter what happened, horrifying and joyous and everything in between, he would be there. Holding her.

It was enough. Not a cure, not even more than the start of one, but it was comfort enough as she sobbed through the pain, through Julio’s pain, the agony he’d borne that had gone beyond the flesh. He hadn’t cried, not really, so she cried for both of them, until her head ached and she felt empty and hollow.

Swallowing hurt, but she managed, then rested her cheek against his chest. “I get it now. The instincts.

Being alpha. It’s not just because you love me, is it?”

“No,” he whispered. “That’s not all of it. I love you, and that’s the only reason I can rein it in sometimes. Because I know the crazy alpha shit makes you miserable.”

It would always be his challenge. Hers would be to love him enough to forgive him when the instincts spilled over. “I don’t know what hurt Julio more. Being tortured, or knowing they were using him to hurt me and not being able to stop it.”

“That.” He seemed certain. “Being helpless to stop someone else’s pain.”

He’d been helpless to stop hers for too long. All of them had been, and maybe that was the real truth behind Alec’s anger, the truth even Anna hadn’t picked at. He’d watched Kat cry, and it would have been so much easier if he could have dragged Andrew to her by the scruff of the neck and forced them to make up. But Andrew had been a danger to her, so Alec couldn’t stop her pain.

She didn’t have to be in pain anymore. So she let it go and struggled for a smile. “Thank you for coming to get me. I mean, we were in the middle of rescuing ourselves, but I’m just as glad I didn’t have to wrestle with Julio after I gave him the empathic version of a shot of adrenaline.”

He didn’t laugh. “Of course I came for you. Don’t ever think I won’t. Ever.

“I didn’t,” she promised, lifting a hand to his face. He looked grave, as exhausted as she felt. “I’ll always protect you. You’ll always protect me. That’s how it works.”

“That’s how it works,” he echoed hoarsely, his eyes intense. “Kat, I’m sorry. About everything.”

“Shh.” She smoothed her thumb over his lower lip. “I don’t hate you anymore. Not even a little.”

“Even if you should? For Ben, if nothing else?”

His name hurt to hear. Maybe it would for a long time. But this was a burden Andrew didn’t get to carry. “I’m the one who dragged him into it, and I’m the one who tried to bluff the people holding us. But it’s not my fault he’s dead. It’s theirs. I know you can’t stop feeling the guilt, but if you’re going to be with me, you have to give it up sometimes. I want a lover, not a martyr.”

He heaved a shaky sigh. “It’s not easy to give up, this martyr thing, but I can do it for you.”

“Only when it makes you miserable.” Touching his lips again, she smiled. “I know what I’m getting into. You’re an alpha wolf. Sometimes I’ll have to bite you to get your attention.”

Andrew closed his eyes and bent his head to her touch. “And I need you to do that.”

She knew, though she couldn’t say how. It wasn’t empathy, or instinct, either. Maybe it was like chiseling away at the new Andrew to find that the base was there, the outlines of the man she’d known.

Loving him now was like learning a new programming language, like switching from C++ to Java and realizing all the important stuff was pretty much the same, underneath the syntax and semicolons.

It would be awkward for a while. But one day she’d turn around and realize she couldn’t remember not knowing exactly who he was. So she kissed him, and told him the only thing she needed him to know. “I don’t want you not to be what you are. You’re a wolf. I love all of you.”

His arms tightened around her, and his breath stirred her drying hair. “Can I take you home now?”

Home was with him. Wherever he wanted her to be. “Yes.”


Empaths and funerals were a miserable combination, which made Carmen’s presence a blessing.

Ben’s service had been short—at Patrick’s request—but Alec and Carmen’s arrival had given the exhausted mourners a place to gather and grieve. It took a few phone calls and a Dixie John’s catering miracle, but eventually Kat found herself enthroned on one of Alec and Carmen’s newly upholstered couches.

Long sleeves covered the thick bandages around her wrists. A plate full of food balanced on her lap, filled with finger foods that she obediently nibbled every time Andrew looked her way.

Carmen took it away finally. “You can tell him I said not eating was okay right now.”

“He’s worried.” Which was an understatement. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d spent the last two nights watching her sleep. “I’m sure my appetite will come back eventually.”

Carmen’s dark eyes held shadows of concern. “I want to get Callum to come back here for a while.

You and Julio both could use…someone to talk to.”

Protesting that she wasn’t the one who’d been tortured would do no good. Not with Carmen—who knew, like only another empath could know, how little it mattered. “Callum was due another visit anyway.

At the end of February.”

“I think I’ll call him and see if he can make the trip early.”

“For Julio, if you want.” Kat found Andrew in the crowd, and smiled when she caught him sneaking a look at her. She didn’t need Callum. Not because she wasn’t broken, but because she had someone to talk to. Someone who could make her feel safe until she climbed back to her feet. “I’m not going to be here, anyway,” she added. “The Alpha’s private jet is waiting to bring us to Wyoming before my cousin actually self-destructs. I’ll be lucky if he lets me out of his sight before Nick has her baby.”

“He’s worried about her,” Carmen said. “Maybe having you there, safe and sound, will set his mind at ease.”

“I know.” Reaching out, Kat curled her hand around Carmen’s. “Is Julio okay?”

“You know better than anyone what he went through.” She took a deep breath. “No, he’s not okay. But he will be.”

“He’s strong,” she whispered. “I know that now too.”

Carmen looked over to where Julio stood in quiet conversation with Alec. “He’s strong, but sometimes I think maybe that’s harder. It makes him likelier to blame himself.”

“I know. I’m afraid Patrick will do the same.”

“He lost his brother,” she allowed. “I don’t think it’s possible not to feel responsible for that. But we find ways to deal with tragedy, and people to help.”

“At least we have a strong community. It’s better than being alone.”

“Absolutely.” Carmen squeezed her hand. “Give everyone on the ranch a hug and a kiss from me, okay?”

Kat opened her mouth to answer, but Carmen’s gaze had jumped to Alec, who was weaving his way through the scattered crowd. He seemed uncomfortable in his crisp black suit, but Kat had to admit he looked good.

Judging by the way Carmen’s eyes softened, she agreed. “Does anyone need anything?” she asked, touching his sleeve.

Alec nodded toward Andrew. “He needs to round Kat up and get out of here before Derek calls me again. I think we’ve reached the end of his patience.”

They’d probably reached it two days ago, when Derek had gotten Kat’s greatly sanitized version of the past few weeks. The explosion she’d expected had come all right, and she hadn’t even told him the worst bits.

Maybe she should have, in retrospect. Admitted everything before she was within arm’s reach and he could actually shake her to see if she’d rattle.

Oh well. Too late now. Kat released Carmen’s hand and rose. “Do me a favor, Alec?”

“What’s that, kiddo?”

“Keep an eye on Patrick? Just for the next few days…” Long enough for him to remember he had a community, even if it wasn’t one he’d spent much time in.

Alec glanced to Carmen, who smiled gently. “Patrick isn’t alone,” she said finally. “He knows.”

It was all Kat could ask for, and it would have to do. For now. After murmuring her goodbyes, she picked a path through the gathering and found her way to Andrew’s side. “Alec says it’s time to face the music.”

“So I hear.” He dropped one hand to the small of her back. “Will you still love me after your cousin smashes my face?”

She loved him most when he made her smile. “Will you still love me after my cousin smashes in your face?”

“Yes,” he said, suddenly serious. “Always.”

Kat lifted her fingers to his cheek, stroked his beard and wondered if she’d ever get tired of the thrill of touching him. Even with sadness and grief pressing in on her from every side, he made tomorrow worth living for. “Me too.”

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