For the Blood of a Crow (Red Dead Mayhem Book 2) by T. S. Joyce

Author:T. S. Joyce [Joyce, T. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wicked Willow Press
Published: 2018-06-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Bailey’s howl died in her throat as the wolf hid. The animal didn’t want to exist in this pain, so she didn’t, simple as that. She tucked herself deep inside and left Bailey to her human skin, on hands and knees on the porch.

She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. Dad wasn’t bound to her by blood. He wasn’t her biological father. He was just her maker. Just her maker. Bailey blinked hard, forcing the moisture to stay in her eyes.

Her clothes were in tatters around her flattened palms on the scratched-up porch. “This is the worst moment in my life,” she whispered, dragging her attention to Rike, “and you’re seeing it.”

He was on his knees, sledgehammer fists clenched at his sides, his white T-shirt clawed up and staining crimson, blood dripping from his arm, chest heaving, eyes black as the night sky above.

“I remember…”

“Remember what?” she whispered.

“I remember you were a witness to the worst moment in my life, too.”

Oh, she knew what moment he was talking about, but she had to make sure. “Lucian?”

He dipped his chin once. “My hand”—he dragged those demon eyes down to his palm and then back to her—“it burns.”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t asked you to bind yourself to me, he would’ve let my people live.”

“Lucian was a psychopath who killed and hurt without reason or logic, Bailey. Nothing was your fault. The blood of all those people are on the man who killed them. My fuckin’ head hurts. Everything hurts.” He closed his eyes tightly. “Everything.”

Body tingling from the Change, she crawled to him and, as gently as she could so she didn’t hurt his skin further, touched him with her fingertips. Bailey hesitated, eyes locked on his to make sure it was okay, and when his eyes dipped to her lips, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his heaving chest.

She’d only meant to comfort a man who was in pain, but as his breathing steadied, she felt his fingertips move softly across her ribs and then around her back. There was barely any pressure to his embrace, as though he thought her as fragile as a glass egg.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For the worst moment of your life, I’m sorry.”

“I had everything figured out, Rike. Every day was the same, and I knew what to expect. I was going to be the mate of the Second and be under my dad’s protection forever. I was going to live and breathe and die, just like the person I was yesterday. I had a steady life. And in one day of seeing you again, I’ve thrown that life away. And now I don’t know what tomorrow will look like.”

“Bailey,” he murmured, hooking a finger under her chin and lifting her gaze to his. He shook his head slowly and searched her face. “You’re not supposed to.”

And then the tears fell. Two streams of warmth trickled down her face and gathered at her jaw line for a moment before they joined the pit-pat of his bleeding arm on the porch.

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