Page 87 of Reaper Unhinged
Grayson
Fee’s breathing grows even and heavy as she slips into slumber on my lap. I cradle her to me and kiss her head.
She smells of strawberries, which is perfect. If she’d come back smelling of the celestial, I might have lost my shit.
He’s a good guy. A decent guy, and I know he’ll be good for her, but I can’t help but wish I could keep her to myself.
Mine.
It’s the nature of the beast.
I’ll have to share her with Hunter soon, too, which makes me tense up. Knowing my twin isn’t a sociopathic asshole is one thing, but having a connection to him is another. I’ll need to learn to like him. I’ll need to learn to accept him. For the Tribus. For Fee.
It won’t be easy, but I’ll do it for my mate.
I’ll do anything for her, and I can’t lose her. It’ll break me.
She moans softly in her sleep and rubs her cheek against my chest. Her hand is on my abdomen, and it curls into a fist now. I stroke her arm and kiss her head again to soothe the bad dreams.
“You’re okay, Fee. I’ve got you.”
Long minutes slip by where the only sounds are the clatter of pans as Bobby cooks, and then Fee’s breathing grows shallower and faster.
“Hush, it’s okay.” I hold her tighter to lend her a feeling of security, and it seems to work.
Her breathing slows, but as I relax my hold on her, she arches suddenly, smacking her head against my chin.
Her eyes open, wide but unseeing.
“Fee? Fee?” I grip her shoulders.
She ignores me, glancing about. “Where is it. Quick, I need to find it.”
“Fee, wake up.” I shake her.
“Where is it?” For a moment, I think she’s looking right at me, but then a film falls over her vision again. “I need to—”
She cries out and slumps against me.
“Fuck.”
Bobby has rushed over and is standing a few feet away, ready to assist if need be.
“I think we’re okay.” I nod at him. “I think it’s ov—”
Fee tears out of my grip and runs into the kitchen. I’m already in motion, but she has a knife at her throat before I can get to her, and when she locks gazes with me, it isn’t her looking back. It’s something else. Something cold and alien.
The tendons in her arm flex in preparation to draw the blade across her throat. I hear Bobby’s cry of alarm and sense the presence of my pack as they rush to the lounge, alerted by their alpha’s distress, but I know I won’t make it to her in time.
I know I’m about to lose her because a wound like the one she’s about to inflict won’t heal in time, not for a Loup, and not even for a Dominus. But still, I try, leaping toward her, hands outstretched to stop her.
The blade drags across her flesh, leaving a bloody trail in its wake, and then a body blocks my path, and I skid to a halt.
Golden hair and the scent of a foreign ozone.
Conah.
There’s a clink as the knife falls to the ground, and then Fee’s scream of impotent rage fills the room.
