Bearly Hanging On (Miracle Book 3) by Shea Balik

Author:Shea Balik [Balik, Shea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Harper was stunned as he walked next to Kirill. For too many years he’d lived in darkness and despair. But now, after facing certain death – which he had believed he’d wanted – everything seemed…well…shinier, newer, brighter.

He was still leery of Kirill, but instead of cringing away, Harper found himself gravitating closer to the man. He may not be ready for the intimacies of mating, but Harper no longer wanted to keep him at arm’s length, either.

Feelings he’d never thought to discern again were surfacing and Harper wasn’t quite sure whether or not he could trust them. Like holding Kirill’s hand. He used to love holding hands with whoever he was dating. Not that he could do it in public since being gay was a death offense in the shifter world. But in private, he enjoyed the simple touch.

What would it be like to hold Kirill’s hand? He glanced at the man’s massive hands. They were big enough that Harper was sure he could fit both of his hands in one of his mate’s.

The urge to reach out, to touch, to know if those same sensations of contentment, of connection, would be there, was nearly too much to ignore. He started to do just that when images of being held down by cruel hands bombarded him. He started to shake as memories he’d been trying so hard to eradicate from his mind cascaded past the barriers he’d set up in his head. Hands of every shape and color touched, pinched, hit, punched, and violated him in every way possible.

A pained, mournful sound reached his ears but Harper barely recognized the sound as he struggled to get as far away from those hands as possible. A part of him knew they weren’t real, that all he had to do was focus on what was around him, but it was impossible to do. Those memories had sucked him in like quicksand, drowning him in their gritty depths.

“Harper,” a deep voice called to him.

He wasn’t sure why, but Harper gravitated toward the voice, trusting it to help him even though he knew better than to trust anyone. Still, each time he heard his name, the deep voice grew louder as if it were pulling him from pits of hell, which in many ways was exactly where Harper had sunk.

He clung to that voice, fighting his way through the maze of hands that tried to grab ahold of him and pull him back under. But whenever fingers snagged his clothing, that voice would speak and, as if by magic, he was released from the terrifying hold of the past.

Warmth surrounded him, keeping him safe. And that voice was whispering in his ear. “That’s it, my petal. You’re safe. I’ll protect you.”

Harper’s heart was racing so fast he was sure it was about to burst from his chest as he struggled to get rid of the last of the memories. It wasn’t easy. He’d lived in hell for far too long, with too many men thinking he was nothing more than a toy to be played with.

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