Broken Bond - Callie Rose Page 0,18
feels like things are spinning out of control. I can understand that motivation. I’m still trying to work on a coping mechanism myself—one that doesn’t end with me curled into a fetal position, unable to catch my breath.
But Dare…
God, I understand his pain. I understand how deeply that pain is rooted in his past and the way he lost his entire pack to the shifters’ mortal enemy. What I can’t fully comprehend is how quickly he could turn his back on me. How quickly he turned cold.
Ridge, Trystan, and Archer file into the kitchen about fifteen minutes later, all three of them looking exhausted. Their sudden presence startles me, and I sit up, swiping at the tears that have semi-dried on my cheeks. No use adding my private blubbering to an already messed up situation.
None of them are covered in blood, which I guess is a good sign that Dare hasn’t bled out on the couch while I’ve been sitting here staring at a plate of cold eggs.
“Anyone want coffee?” Archer asks, voice subdued. He doesn’t wait for an answer before he grabs the carafe and sets about brewing another pot. Good thing too, since nobody bothers to reply. There’s a strange air of shock hanging over the whole kitchen, as if none of us can fully believe what just happened.
What shifter leaves behind protected wolf pack lands and throws himself into a fight with a witch coven? Does Dare really have a death wish?
As Ridge begins gathering our dirty dishes from breakfast, Trystan sits down heavily next to me. His shoulder nudges mine as he looks down and gives me a once-over. “You okay?”
I shrug, deflecting his question with my own. “How’s Dare doing?”
Trystan’s jaw clenches, but he offers me a shrug. “Patched up as much as he can be. For now.”
“That leg needs real medical attention,” Ridge adds as he scrapes a plate off over the trash can. “More than we have here to give him, at any rate. The last thing we need is for infection to set in and make him lose a leg. He’d never forgive us.”
Trystan rolls his eyes. “Because it’s our fault he fucked off to the borders and picked a fight with witches?”
I narrow my eyes in his direction, irritation prickling my skin. Maybe it doesn’t say anything good about me that I still have an urge to protect Dare, even now. But I do. I care about him, no matter how he feels about me.
“He came back to us,” I point out. “He could have gone to any of the packs for assistance, but he didn’t. He came here. Because he trusts… you.” I almost say because he trusts us, but I stop myself.
It would be a lie.
Dare doesn’t trust me.
And maybe he’s the only logical shifter in this cabin right now. Maybe he’s the one who’s got it right. They’re all playing with fire by being around me, risking their lives on the hope that I won’t lose control of my magic.
Ridge picks up a couple more plates with a nod. “Right. It’s our duty to ensure he gets the proper care he needs. Anybody else on pack lands would do the same for any one of us if we showed up beaten and bloody.”
“Except me,” I mutter, laughing softly under my breath. There’s no humor in it though. It’s hard to imagine what kind of reception I’d get on pack lands if people knew I was a witch. Or maybe I just don’t want to imagine it.
I rest my chin on my hand and stare at the dregs of my orange juice, feeling adrift. Like I don’t fit inside my own skin anymore.
“Well, that’s not true. I did take care of you,” Ridge says, his voice teasing. He picks up my plate and empty glass. “I found you scratched up and bloody at the bottom of Devil’s Ditch and carried you home. Or did you forget?”
I flush. “Right. Thank you for that.”
“And that was before I knew you.” His amber eyes soften as he gazes down at me. “Now that I do, I’d do more than just take care of you. I’d move mountains to keep you safe. You know that, right?”
My cheeks heat even more, emotion making my chest feel tight. I don’t trust my voice not to break if I answer, so I just nod.
“Good. Because we all would,” Ridge goes on as he walks to the sink, his tone allowing no argument. “Me. Archer. Trystan. Even