her tote bag from Aaron’s shoulder and made her way out of the living room.
“I’ll help,” Aaron murmured, but Alana shut the bathroom door before he reached her.
If he was going to shut her down, she wouldn’t share this part with him. This was hers to privately endure so she could wrap her head around all that had happened tonight. Alana slid her back down the cabinets and squeezed her eyes closed as her face fell. She prided herself on being a tough, independent woman, but tonight she’d gone through hell. Tonight everything had changed. Tonight had taken her on the highest highs, the lowest lows, and everywhere in between, and nothing but a good cry would make her feel better.
And if Aaron’s answers to her questions were riddled with “nothings,” then he wasn’t allowed to see her vulnerable side.
****
Aaron paced outside the bathroom, ran his hand through his hair, and then strode to the door, determined to escape. He couldn’t. Couldn’t move another step away from her, couldn’t lose himself to Bear right now. Not when that soft sniffle sounded through the door. It ripped him apart. She wasn’t the type of woman he would be able to protect by hiding the truth, and he’d been an idiot to forget that.
What the hell was he doing?
He’d been on autopilot since he’d heard her scream his name, scream for help. The sound of terror in Alana’s voice would never leave his memory as long as he walked this earth. It would replay in his nightmares over and over because he’d thought he was going to be too late. Aric had gotten too damn close to her. The rules for vampires were the same as for shifters. Legally, they could Turn one person, but only with consent, and only when choosing a mate. Alana would’ve been legally bound to Aric if he would’ve Turned her. All he had to do was convince Alana and the court that his draining her and raising her from the dead had been consensual. And he could’ve done it! Aric possessed the power of mind control.
“Fuck,” Aaron muttered, clenching his shaking hands. The constant snarl in his chest was unavoidable now.
What was he supposed to do? Alana was crying, and he was teetering on the edge of his control. All he wanted was to hold her, but she’d shut him out, and he had no fucking clue how to make his woman happy.
He was the oldest of the Bloodrunners, in his thirties, and when the mating bond hadn’t happened with any of the girls he’d dated through his twenties, he’d assumed he wasn’t meant to be paired up. It happened to lots of shifters, so he’d just accepted it. Accepted that he would watch his friends find mates and be a good uncle to their kids instead of getting to raise his own. And then Alana had come along, and the pull of the bond had been instant—like slamming into a brick wall at full speed. There had been no slowing down or avoiding it. It was almost as if she’d been there all along, arms open wide, just waiting for him to crash into her.
He’d told her he didn’t want to hurt her, and now look. She was the only one on the front line of a war brewing between shifters and vamps, and she was human! Weston was right about her being fragile. She was tough as hell on the inside, but her skin was thin as paper. She didn’t have swift healing. And if he was honest, watching her neck streaming crimson tonight had done something awful to his insides. He hadn’t realized how different it was for humans until tonight. It was one thing to know it, but another to see how easily they bled over something as simple as a bite. How easily the woman he was falling in love with could be taken from him.
Alana let off a soft, heartbroken sound, and he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t just give her space to fall apart without him. His protective instincts wouldn’t allow it. Aaron shoved the door open and dropped to his knees on the floor, pulled her into his lap. She struggled for a moment and told him to, “leave me alone,”
“I’ll help,” Aaron murmured, but Alana shut the bathroom door before he reached her.
If he was going to shut her down, she wouldn’t share this part with him. This was hers to privately endure so she could wrap her head around all that had happened tonight. Alana slid her back down the cabinets and squeezed her eyes closed as her face fell. She prided herself on being a tough, independent woman, but tonight she’d gone through hell. Tonight everything had changed. Tonight had taken her on the highest highs, the lowest lows, and everywhere in between, and nothing but a good cry would make her feel better.
And if Aaron’s answers to her questions were riddled with “nothings,” then he wasn’t allowed to see her vulnerable side.
****
Aaron paced outside the bathroom, ran his hand through his hair, and then strode to the door, determined to escape. He couldn’t. Couldn’t move another step away from her, couldn’t lose himself to Bear right now. Not when that soft sniffle sounded through the door. It ripped him apart. She wasn’t the type of woman he would be able to protect by hiding the truth, and he’d been an idiot to forget that.
What the hell was he doing?
He’d been on autopilot since he’d heard her scream his name, scream for help. The sound of terror in Alana’s voice would never leave his memory as long as he walked this earth. It would replay in his nightmares over and over because he’d thought he was going to be too late. Aric had gotten too damn close to her. The rules for vampires were the same as for shifters. Legally, they could Turn one person, but only with consent, and only when choosing a mate. Alana would’ve been legally bound to Aric if he would’ve Turned her. All he had to do was convince Alana and the court that his draining her and raising her from the dead had been consensual. And he could’ve done it! Aric possessed the power of mind control.
“Fuck,” Aaron muttered, clenching his shaking hands. The constant snarl in his chest was unavoidable now.
What was he supposed to do? Alana was crying, and he was teetering on the edge of his control. All he wanted was to hold her, but she’d shut him out, and he had no fucking clue how to make his woman happy.
He was the oldest of the Bloodrunners, in his thirties, and when the mating bond hadn’t happened with any of the girls he’d dated through his twenties, he’d assumed he wasn’t meant to be paired up. It happened to lots of shifters, so he’d just accepted it. Accepted that he would watch his friends find mates and be a good uncle to their kids instead of getting to raise his own. And then Alana had come along, and the pull of the bond had been instant—like slamming into a brick wall at full speed. There had been no slowing down or avoiding it. It was almost as if she’d been there all along, arms open wide, just waiting for him to crash into her.
He’d told her he didn’t want to hurt her, and now look. She was the only one on the front line of a war brewing between shifters and vamps, and she was human! Weston was right about her being fragile. She was tough as hell on the inside, but her skin was thin as paper. She didn’t have swift healing. And if he was honest, watching her neck streaming crimson tonight had done something awful to his insides. He hadn’t realized how different it was for humans until tonight. It was one thing to know it, but another to see how easily they bled over something as simple as a bite. How easily the woman he was falling in love with could be taken from him.
Alana let off a soft, heartbroken sound, and he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t just give her space to fall apart without him. His protective instincts wouldn’t allow it. Aaron shoved the door open and dropped to his knees on the floor, pulled her into his lap. She struggled for a moment and told him to, “leave me alone,”
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