His entire body went rigid, but the strangest thing was… She felt nothing—from him, anyway. She couldn’t sense that invisible tendril of emotion that had allowed her to read him so easily before. Without it, they were back at square one—he was a stranger she had no idea how to predict.
Going off established precedent, she waited for him to close up again. To push her away. Instead, he met her gaze head-on, and she wasn’t prepared for the intensity in his expression.
Gone was that perpetual doubt. Replacing it was a fierce determination. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that wracked her spine at the sight. It was the expression he’d worn the day she goaded him into chasing her through the woods.
Right before he kissed her like mad.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Please—”
“His name was Lukas Grehmaine,” he said in a low voice. “He was the previous Alpha of Black Mountain pack and a man I looked up to. I only ever knew him to be fair and honest. Though, hell… Maybe I never really knew him.”
That bothered him—that he might have been fooled by someone he trusted. More than in an obvious way.
“I need to know why, Loren,” he said so softly she found herself inching closer just to hear him above the crackling flames.
“I want to know why he would do something so fucking… Despicable.” He stabbed his stick at the base of the fire, sending burning embers into the air.
“I want to know, too,” she admitted, surprising herself. “Tell me about him. You shouldn’t keep me in the dark.”
“You’re right.” He lowered his head in a rare display of concession. “Even before we recovered your memories, I received intel that led to Black Mountain. Remember what I said about your mother? There was a small band of Scolera in this area roughly twenty years ago. One of them might have been her. She could have met your father then.”
His openness emboldened her to ask, “Why do you think he did it? Suppressed my memories?”
“I don’t know, but I think I have an idea of who might. They wanted to meet somewhere not far from here. I was planning on going alone. It would be safer for you to stay here with Micha and Naomi.” She sensed that was his way of trying to convince her against the course of action she impulsively preferred.
“Or,” she said carefully. “You can take me with you and let me find out the truth for myself. I’m not a child, and I’m not your responsibility, either.”
“You have no idea—” He broke off sharply, only to sigh. “I want you to understand something. We don’t need to talk about it now, but later. Still, you should know that the… Whatever linked us before, it’s gone. You severed it.”
His confirmation merely served to reinforce what she could already feel. The mating bond was gone. Shouldn’t he have been celebrating? Dancing with joy?
Instead, he looked…exhausted.
“How?” she asked, grappling with the idea of it. She couldn’t consciously remember choosing to break anything, bond or otherwise. She’d been too overwhelmed, as if every single emotion one person could feel had threatened to explode from her all at once. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, though he genuinely seemed as puzzled as she felt.
“You must be relieved,” she said thickly. “I mean—”
“You want to come? Fine.” He stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Be ready at sundown. We’ll take my truck. But…”
His inflection dipped to a dangerous octave.
“I need your trust. If I say run, you run. Understood?”
He didn’t give her the chance to argue. Already he was storming across the camp, his posture unreadable. Watching him go, Loren had no idea what to think.
Or how to feel knowing that his duty to her had come to an end.
And he didn’t seem to care either way.
26
To say this situation was out of his element would have been an understatement.
Mating a stranger was one thing. Interacting with said stranger after said bond had been unceremoniously broken? Bill figured he should have been glad they were both in human form, at least. It made this confrontation marginally less awkward.
But no less tense.