Page 38 of Savage Claim

When he pulled me out of Barric’s office the other day, the red splatters on his neck didn’t smell like paint. They’d smelled like blood. Could that have been Mr. Bowden’s?

I finally shook my head. “I don’t want to know.”

He didn’t need to say it, though. I already knew.

Fane did hunt that sick bastard down. He drew his death out and made sure he knew why he was being torn apart by a beast.

How could Fane want to kill me while also seeking revenge on my behalf?

Would I wake up one day with his teeth in my throat?

Chapter

Fourteen

My fists curled by my sides as I tilted my head back to glare at the full moon like the floating rock was all to blame for my inability to shift. Barric had attempted to help me for two hours, forcing his alpha power on me, growling, and trying to gently coax my wolf side out.

This was so humiliating.

Nothing worked. All I’d gotten were talons, teeth, and a considerable dose of embarrassment. The head alpha probably thought I was the worst shifter in this realm.

Eventually, Jax retrieved him for some alpha business, and Barric couldn’t mask his relief at exiting the awkward situation.

Hot anger flooded my bloodstream, and I whirled around, smashing my fist into a pine tree so hard bark splintered, and needles rained down around me. After a moment, pain registered, and the anger took a back seat.

Son of a bitch!

My skin split over two of my knuckles, and blood oozed down my fingers.

“It’s not enough that I have to endure your nightmares, the emotional chaos of your failure to shift, but now I get to feel the physical pain because you decided to punch the fuck out of a tree.”

A snarl curled out of my mouth as Fane materialized through the foliage, stepping over a fallen log and piles of leaves. If I hadn’t been focused on the throbbing in my hand, I would have felt his approach.

He pretended the other night, when he held me in the bed and confessed that he killed the sadistic Mr. Bowden, never happened. The moment he woke that morning, he reverted to the uber prick, the kindness evaporating.

“Go away, Maverick. I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit right now.” The crushing loss of hope after Venna killed Kaspin still clung to my heart, creating deep fissures. Fane might not care that the spell making him thirst for my death would never be broken, but every time I thought about it, I couldn’t breathe.

Logan promised he’d find a way to shatter the spell without Kaspin. There were witches more powerful than him in Illyria, and the high demon would talk to every last one if he had to.

Could Venna have lied about Kaspin being the only one who could break the spell? Sure, but with my luck, the demon princess was right. And now Fane was forever stuck like this.

I turned around and leaned against the tree I’d assaulted, letting my hand drop to my side even though it intensified the pain.

Of course, Fane wouldn’t leave me alone in my misery. His mismatched gaze roamed over me, burning a trail across my body. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your shit either, Teague, but I don’t really have a choice with this damn link.” His jaw clenched, the tiny muscles feathering. “I feel what you feel, and it’s annoying as hell.”

I pushed off the tree until the tips of our boots met, and I had to crane my neck back to look at him. “I’m well aware of how you feel, too, Maverick. This bond goes both ways. I irritate you to no end, and you’d rather choke the life out of me than endure a bond with your brother’s murderer.” I jabbed my finger into his chest. It was like hitting a titanium plate. “I also know how much desire you have for me.”

He could deny his feelings and lie to himself, but I knew the truth. I felt it in my soul. Literally.

“If you want me dead so badly, stop saving my life,” I snapped.

A scarlet hue swam into Fane’s cheeks as fire erupted in his eyes. The tattoos on his arms twitched, his beast longing to break free. “Don’t push me, Teague, or?—”

“Or what?” I refused to back down. “You’ll kill me?”

His nostrils flared, and this time, red flashed in his irises as his rage reached a fever pitch. If I had any sense, I’d leave the vicinity before he flipped his shit. Fane only had so much control, and I knew damn good and well how thin I was wearing it.

Still, his constant denial pissed me off.

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