Revolting

Chapter Forty Three - Loss William

Hannah came out of the barn, her eyes glued to the ground, her face slightly flushed. I noticed she kept her hands fisted at her sides, and the buttons of her dress were out of line. I raised my eyebrows at Heath. Poor, over protective brother pressed his lips into a grim line. "Hannah..."

"Ryborg Pharmaceuticals," She snapped, without looking at her brother. She continued past us and back toward the pack house. It wasn't exactly a location, but with a name, and Google, we would be able to track it down. Once she went into the house, I went back into the barn, followed by Heath. I half expected to find our prisoner gone, but he was still there, exactly as we had left him, strung up to the post, his head leaning back, eyes closed. Only now a small smile played around his lips. Satisfied that she hadn't set him free, I mind-linked one of our guards. Someone would have to keep an eye on him until morning. For now, we had more important things to worry about, namely my friend Gabe. I went into the house, and leaned against the door to Daisy's room. Gabe was sweating profusely now, and shivering, despite the fact that they had piled warm heavy blankets on him in the middle of summer. His hands had been bound to the bed posts with strips of fabric. Daisy sat beside him, her face crumpled with worry and anxiety, mopping his head with a cool washcloth.

Hannah was in the room too, sitting in a chair with her knees drawn up to her chest, her cheek resting on her knees. Her face was sad, her expression withdrawn as she watched her friend, probably her first and only real friend, nursing Gabe. I was struck again by how small and child-like Hannah appeared. But she wasn't a child, was she? She was a young woman who had the ability to bring a powerful alpha to his knees. Literally. She was a serious bad-ass in a pint-size package. I felt proud to call her my new sister.

Heath's hands came to rest on my shoulders. Instinctively it seemed, he began to rub at the tight muscles and sore knots there. The comfort of his touch seemed to slow my heart rate and lower my blood pressure immediately. I leaned into him, but spoke to Daisy. "Daisy? Do you need a break?"

She looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "No. No, I can't leave him."

Hannah stirred in her chair. "You two can go. I can keep watch if she needs to use the bathroom or take a break."

I swallowed. "It's going to get worse before it gets better," I reminded the women unnecessarily. "We'll come back in a couple hours to sit with him." Daisy only nodded, and I had the feeling she wasn't really listening to me. One-hundred percent of her attention was on her husband. Turning a human wasn't a simple, or a safe matter. Even with an alpha's venom, if his body wasn't strong enough, he could die. I glanced back at Heath. I already knew that the pain of losing a mate would be unbearable. I'd barely found Heath, but already I thought if he died, I would surely die too.

My eyes slid to Hannah. What was the pain of rejection like, compared to that? She had lost her mate today too, though in a different way, and for a different reason. What was she feeling? Did she feel loss? Was she grieving for what would never be? Did it hurt her less since she was the one who spoke the rejection? Where did she find the strength?

I sighed and turned to Heath, my eyes pleading with him. "I know you don't like the pack house, and I respect that. But please... stay with me tonight."

He swallowed, and I saw his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He nodded in silent assent. I took his hand and led him toward my room. As a beta, I had one of the bigger and better bedrooms in the house. But as with everything else, it was old, and worn, and in desperate need of remodeling. There had been so much to do since we moved here, that prettying up my room seemed to be of little importance. Now I wish I had something more comfortable to offer my mate. Something that would appeal to him so much that he wouldn't want to leave. But all I had was a bed and a dresser that I had moved here from our house in Troy, and an ugly couch, along with a couple of old wooden chairs that I had found in the attic of the farm house. Otherwise it was scuffed wooden floorboards, peeling blue floral wall-paper, and a small bathroom with a claw foot bathtub and ancient plumbing. Someone had moved Heath's old army backpack from the office to one of my chairs.novelbin

Heath prowled around the room, looking out the two big, old windows. The glass was loose in the panes, and they rattled when the wind blew, and leaked slightly if it rained hard. I had installed some cheap blinds and black-out curtains. His tall, lanky body made the room seem smaller. I wasn't sure what to say to him to make him feel at ease.

He went around to the bed and sat on the edge. He tested the mattress by bouncing on it slightly. He then sprawled his long body across it. He was so tall his feet dangled off the end. He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his head. He patted the mattress beside him. "Come on, don't leave me alone over here."

I was all too happy to crawl on the bed with him. It was a tight fit, with the two of us, but I wasn't going to complain. I arranged myself next to him, so that my head was on his good shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer. I couldn't help but nuzzle into his neck and suck in the sweet, masculine scent of him. His voice rumbled in his chest. "I'm sorry about your friend." He said quietly. I sensed some guilt in his voice. "It's not your fault."

He sighed and turned his head to look into my face. "Isn't it? Michael was hunting me, and I lead him right onto your lands."

I pushed myself up so that I could capture his lips. Already stubble was roughening his cheeks and chin. "You and I are one thing, Heath. If he's hunting you, he's hunting me too." I shook my head, and moved my hand over his chest, resting it over his heart, which was beating strong and steady. "If anything happened to you..."

He put his hand over mine, and caught my lips again, his mouth expressing some of the fear and anxiety over what had happened today, telling me things that he couldn't seem to say in words. I knew he was still sore from our love-making last night, so I moved to straddle his hips. Top or bottom didn't matter to me, as long as we were connected. I moved against him, still fully clothed, but desperate to be closer, desperate to reassure myself that he was safe and alive.