John was trying to think of what he could say to derail the collision, but what a waste of time. Two trains had already made head-on contact and there was twisted metal and steaming engine parts everywhere.
Especially as Xhex marched for the door like she was prepared to claw it apart just to prove a point.
When he went to follow her, she pegged him with a hard eye. "If you're coming after me for any other reason than to let me go after Xcor, you need to stop right where you are. Because you belong with this anachronistic group of misogynists. Not at my side. "
Lifting his hands, he signed, It is not wrong to want to keep you safe.
"This is not about safety - it's about control. "
Bullshit! You were hurt less than twenty-four hours ago -
"Fine. I have an idea. I want to keep you safe - so how about you stop fighting. " She glared over her shoulder at Wrath. "You gonna back me up, my lord? How about the rest of you fools? Let's put the skirt and the panty hose on John, shall we? Come on, back my ass up. No? You don't think that would be 'fair'?"
John's temper flared, and he just. . . He didn't mean to do what he did. It just happened.
He stomped his boot, creating a thunderous noise, and pointed. . . directly at Tohr.
Awkward. Horrid. Silence.
Kind of like he and Xhex had not only dragged their dirty laundry out in front of everyone, but he'd managed to drape their sweat socks and stained shirts all over Tohr's head.
In response? The Brother just crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, once.
Xhex shook her head. "I gotta get out of here. I gotta clear my head. John, if you know what's good for you, you will not follow me. "
And just like that, she was gone.
In the aftermath, John rubbed his face, pushing his palms in so hard he felt like he was rearranging his features.
"How 'bout everybody head off for the night," Wrath said softly. "I want to talk to John. Tohr, you hang. "
No need to ask twice. The Brotherhood and the others left like someone was out in the courtyard stealing their cars.
Beth stayed behind. So did George.
As the doors shut, John looked at Tohr. I'm so sorry -
"Nah, son. " The male stepped forward. "I don't want where I'm at for you, either. "
The Brother put his arms around John, and John went with it, collapsing into the once massive body. . . that nonetheless managed to hold him up.
Tohr's voice was steady in his ear: "It's okay. I got you. It's all right. . . . "
John put his head to the side and stared at the door his shellan had walked out of. He wanted to go after her with every fiber of his being - but those fibers were also what were ripping them apart. In his mind, he understood everything she was saying, but his heart and his body were ruled by something separate from all that, something bigger and more primordial. And it was overriding everything.
It was wrong. Disrespectful. Old-fashioned in a way that he never thought he could be. He didn't think females should be sequestered, and he believed in his mate, and he wanted her. . .
To be safe.
Period.
"Give her some time," Tohr murmured, "and we'll go after her, okay? You and I will go together. "
"Good plan," Wrath said, "because neither of you is going out in the field tonight. " The king held up his palms to cut off the arguing. "Really?"
That shut them both up.
"So are you okay?" the king asked Tohr.