was the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, whether he admits it to himself or not.
“Oh yeah. Of course. Let’s feel sorry for Jaxon in this equation. I’m so sorry it hurt his feelings to murder me.”
Everything about that sentence sets me off, because no. Just no. He doesn’t get to play the victim here.
“You really should stop trying to rewrite history,” I tell him. “It’s not like Jaxon just woke up one morning and decided to kill you. You caused hundreds of paranormals to attack one another. For fun. For some ridiculous plan of born-vampire supremacy.”
“No.” Hudson glares at me. “No, no, no. I have done a lot of shitty things in my life, and I take responsibility for every single one of them. But I do not take responsibility for that.” He begins pacing around my room.
I don’t have the energy to process what he just said. My mind is still racing, remembering all the times over the last few weeks that Jaxon’s looked tired. And all because of Hudson feeding on him, using the mating bond. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt Jaxon or me, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. Not when I’m responsible for the fact that something—someone—is hurting my mate right in front of me. I suddenly feel sick and stumble over to sit on the edge of my bed. I have to fix this.
My head feels like it’s going to explode. Then again, for the first time, so does my heart. I close my eyes and reach inside me for the dual-toned mating bond string I’ve become so familiar with over the last few days. I take it into my hand and squeeze, sending wave after wave of energy to Jaxon, remembering every single time he had dark circles under his eyes and I’d thought he just needed sleep. The tight lines I’d ignored around his smile. The faded black of his bottomless eyes.
This was all my fault. So many times I’d focused on my own problems instead of seeing how my mate was suffering and trying to hide it—right in front of me. And that’s when I realize something else… Jaxon knew Hudson was feeding on the bond. And he didn’t say anything.
My chest feels cleaved open. He didn’t want to make me feel guilty. And more, he didn’t want to make me have to choose.
“You need to stop.”
I don’t think I can. Because this is bad. This is really, really bad.
“Grace!” Hudson’s voice thunders through my head with an urgency I can’t ignore. “Stop!”
“You’re the one who got me thinking about all of this and now you want me to stop?” I demand incredulously. “Screw you.”
“I mean the energy!” he tells me as he puts an insistent hand on top of mine. “You can’t give him any more or you’re going to be drained. You need to stop.”
He’s right. I feel like I could sleep for a year. So I let go of the black-and-green string, though it leaves me feeling even more bereft.
“Goddamn it,” Hudson growls. “You’re going to kill yourself if you’re not careful. You can’t just play around with this stuff.”
Before I can answer, he feeds me a burst of his own energy to make up for some of what I gave Jaxon.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I tell him, even as I feel his power surging through my veins, grounding me. Making me feel solid again.
“Someone has to,” he snarls, “since you seem incapable of thinking of yourself in any given situation.”
“That’s not true!” I tell him.
“It sure feels true. And the fact that my brother lets you get away with it is a bunch of bullshit on his part, too. That’s not what the mating bond is supposed to be about.”
“Oh, really?” I stare at him incredulously. “Taking care of each other isn’t what the bond is about?”
“Each other being the operative words in that sentence,” Hudson snaps.
My phone dings, and I pull it out of my pocket and read the message from Jaxon:
Jaxon: Please don’t ever do that again.
Three dots blink and then disappear, then start blinking again, as though he’s reconsidering what he was about to text. Finally, my phone dings again.
Jaxon: Thank you
I text back a quick love you and good night, then put my phone away.
“He thanked you for giving him your strength?!” Hudson throws his hands in the air. “Quite the mate you’ve got there, Grace.”