Or was he attempting to make excuses for himself and the woman who owned his soul?
He inhaled warily, looked at the digital time displayed on the dashboard of his truck, and grimaced. It was nearly three in the morning. Natalie was still awake; he had seen her shadow pass the slit in the curtains. He knew the enforcers, Shiloh Gage and Mercury Warrant, were still awake. Two of the most contrary Breeds ever born were Shiloh and Mercury. No doubt they were in different rooms, in opposite corners waiting, like a cat on a mouse, for the unwary. No wonder Natalie was pacing the floors. When those two were on guard duty, conversation was in very short supply.
Damn. He’d sat out here in the dark feeling f**king sorry for himself long enough. He wasn’t going to have the answers he needed until he confronted her, until he asked her why she risked herself for her ex-husband. And he would have his answers.
He was man enough to accept that she had loved before, but he’d be damned if he was man enough to accept that those emotions could still remain for another man.
Pushing the truck door open, he moved from the vehicle, closing and locking it with a flick of the security button on the key before heading to the house.
The front door opened before he stepped to the porch, and Shiloh stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind her before leaning against the doorframe.
Dressed in black, her long, dark hair pulled back tight from her face, her dark gold eyes gleaming in the moonlight, she looked exactly as she was: a powerful predator, a force to be reckoned with. She was considered the brat of Sanctuary, a bit spoiled, definitely a shade arrogant, but she had a kind heart. And from her expression, she had managed to find a bit of sympathy for Natalie.
“Shiloh.” He stepped onto the porch.
“Broussard.” She smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant.
Shiloh wasn’t known for her even temperament, but she was known for her ability to hurt a man. In ways he was sure even the Council wouldn’t have approved of. He stopped and stared back at her evenly. “Are you gonna let me into that house, Shi?”
She looked out into the night before bringing her gaze back to him.
“She’s cried most of the evening.” There was a hint of a hiss in her voice. “Since when is it okay to make your mate miserable, Saban? This damned place reeks of her misery.”
“I’ll take care of her,” he assured the enforcer. “You have your own things to take care of. I thank you for coming here and taking care of her for me.”
She sniffed at the gratitude but moved away from the door before opening it and heading for the steps. Mercury moved from the darkness beyond, nodding easily to Saban before he followed the other enforcer and disappeared into the night.
Saban stepped into the house, locked the door, and checked the security system before heading for the stairs.
Strangely, it wasn’t misery that the house reeked of, it was anger. Hot, brilliant, and definitely female. He moved up the stairs, slid into the hallway, and approached her closed door. Beyond that door lay ecstasy. The bed he had shared with his mate, the scent of their passion, the knowledge, complete and overwhelming, that this woman belonged to him, no matter the evidence to the contrary. This insanity where she thought she could save the world and those hapless males drawn to trouble because of their own stupidity was going to have to stop though. He clenched his teeth as the scent of anger grew sharper here, firing the hormone-laced adrenaline, pounding in his head with a primal urge to show her, to enforce his dominance over her. To ensure this never happened again.
Never, ever, would she take another’s side against him. If he felt blood needed to be shed, then he would shed it. He didn’t need her standing between him and danger or between him and his own conscience.
She had no idea the blood he had already shed in his fight to survive. Standing between him and one weak-kneed, paranoid little son of a bitch wasn’t going to make a difference, and she needed to learn that right quick.
He gripped the doorknob, pushed the door open, and with a quick widening of his eyes ducked to avoid whatever heavy object was sailing through the air toward his head.
“Dammit, Natalie!” He ducked again and quickly sidestepped another projectile. Some kind of white ceramic creature he guessed as it shattered against the doorframe as the door slammed closed. “That’s enough.”
“I’ll show you enough!” The bedside clock flew at his head and struck his shoulder with a resounding whack. The pain was minimal, but he didn’t have to give her a chance to perfect her aim. He jumped for her.
She was fast, but she wasn’t fast enough. Hooking his arm around her waist, he tossed her to the bed, coming down on her quickly. He straddled her thighs, gripped her wrists in one hand, and held her securely to the bed.
The short robe she wore had worked to her thighs, the loosely belted front slipped open, revealing hard little ni**les and swollen, flushed br**sts.
The pert mounds bounced as she struggled against him and had his c**k straining against his zipper, desperate to be free. The scent of anger and desire filled the room. The heat of it flushed her cheeks and made her eyes darker.
And the scent of pain. It was carefully masked beneath the anger, but he could smell her hurt, sense it in the air around them.
“You dirty bastard, get off me,” she screamed. “Get off me, and get out of my house. Go back to wherever the hell you came from. I don’t want you here.”
Those were tears glittering in her eyes, the damp sheen making her eyes more luminous, darker, sweeter than ever.
Leaning toward her, he let the low, warning rumble in his chest free. The rough, primal sound only had her eyes narrowing, her face flushing deeper.
“That growling thing is not working on me,” she snapped. “You left. You left me with Breeds that wouldn’t even speak to me. But even worse, moron, you left me hurting!”
He had a feeling she wasn’t talking about arousal or mating heat.