Page 15 of Beast
Beast crossed the room in three long strides.
“He’s close,” he said.“Your brother’s old friend.He’s been asking around.”
Pixie’s face went pale.The sponge in her hand slipped into the sink.
“So, what now?”she asked.“Do I keep hiding?Pretend I’m not a walking target?Or maybe you’ll just lock me in a room like some kind of—”
“Stop.”Beast’s voice was low, sharp.“This isn’t up for debate.”
Pixie’s eyes sparked, some of her fight flaring to life.“I never asked for your protection.”
“No,” Beast agreed.“You didn’t.But you’re now part of the Sentinels, whether you want it or not.”
She opened her mouth, and he stepped closer, towering over her now.
“You’re under my protection now,” he said, each word heavy with meaning.“And I don’t take that lightly, Pixie.I don’t leave people behind.I don’t let them get hurt.So you can be pissed at me, you can hate the lockdown, but I’ll burn this town down before I let him touch you.”
She stared up at him, chest rising and falling, her lips parted like she wanted to scream, or cry, or both.But she didn’t say anything.Eventually, she turned away and walked out, stiff-backed and silent.Beast wondered if he could’ve handled that conversation a little better, but when it came to Pixie, his emotions sometimes got the better of him
By the time Beast made it back to his office, the clubhouse had quieted.Most of the brothers were sleeping or out on patrol.Gunner had taken over the front watch.The chaos of the night had dulled to a low hum of readiness.
He stepped inside, fully intending to drop paperwork on his desk and get back to the yard—but the sight of her stopped him cold.
Pixie was curled up on the old leather couch in the corner of his office, her knees drawn up, one arm tucked under her head.He wondered if his office was the only place in the clubhouse she found safe.Her hair had fallen across her face, lips parted as she slept, and she looked so damn small, so fragile, it made something sharp twist in his chest.Christ, woman.What are you doing to me?
He moved quietly, careful not to wake her.There was a folded blanket on the back of the couch—probably brought in by one of the girls who helped around the clubhouse—and he draped it over her, his hands lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
She stirred, eyelashes fluttering.Then her eyes opened, soft and bleary.They met his, and the silence that followed was thick with something ...heavy.Unspoken.Real.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep here,” she murmured, voice husky.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he told her, their little argument earlier clearly forgotten.But Beast didn’t mind.
She sat up a little, the blanket falling onto her lap.Beast turned to go, but her voice stopped him.
“There’s room, if you want,” she said, her gaze uncertain, almost shy.
Beast froze.Every instinct warred inside him—the one screaming to protect her, to keep his hands to himself, and the one that had been dying to hold her since the moment he saw the haunted look in her eyes that first night.
He turned back slowly, and sat stiffly.The couch wasn’t huge, but there was enough space for them to sit side by side.
When she shifted closer and leaned into him—her head against his chest, her fingers brushing his thigh—he wrapped his arm around her without hesitation.Pixie let out a breath, soft and shaky.Then another.Slowly, her body relaxed, melting into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Beast didn’t know how long they sat like that.Time slowed.The world narrowed down to her warmth, her scent, the soft flutter of her breath against his neck.
Then he tilted her chin up and kissed her.This kiss was slow.Intimate.Beast took his time, savoring the taste of her.Her lips were warm and tentative against his.
Pixie bunched her hands in the front of his shirt.She made a sound in the back of her throat that damn near wrecked him—something between a sigh and a surrender.
When they broke apart, her forehead rested against his jaw, and her breath was steady.Calmer.She was calm with him.
Beast looked down at the woman curled up in his arms and felt something shift deep in his chest.She feels safe with me.That realization hit harder than any bullet ever had.
Pixie eventually dozed off again, her body soft and trusting against his.Beast didn’t move.Didn’t dare.He just held her, watching the storm rage quietly inside him while her presence calmed it all.
For the first time in a long time since he’d said goodbye to Evelyn, he didn’t feel hollow or lonely.He felt whole, and he knew, with terrifying certainty, that he’d never let her go without a fight.
