19
Jaxson
My body rippled with pent-up fury as I downed a finger of bourbon. Savannah Caine was going to send me to an early grave.
The empty glass rang on the countertop as I slammed it down.
After her lunatic cousin had thrown a half-dozen baseless accusations at me, I’d called Savannah to figure out what the hell was going on. But she’d screened all my calls, leaving me with a burgeoning sorcerer–werewolf war on my hands.
I’d nearly lost it.
Clearly, she had. All I could get out of Casey was that they’d discovered she was a werewolf and that she’d attacked Laurel, and they were holding us responsible.
None of the rest of anything he said made one lick of sense. What could have possibly happened?
All Savannah had to do was go to the LaSalles and ask about Dragan. Simple. Instead, she’d outed herself at the worst time possible.
It made me furious. The screened calls. The crazy LaSalles. The fallout. But the thing that had crippled me with anger was having to sit on my hands.
I could feel her sorrow like a noose around my neck. As soon as we’d figured out where she was, I’d wanted to run to her—I could feel her pain pulling me—yet Sam had stopped me.
Made me wait.
Apparently, according to her, I didn’t have the requisite temperament to extract Savannah from her current predicament, whatever the hell that meant.
But I listened to Sam. When it came to Savannah Caine, I knew I was blind and beyond reason.
Savannah’s signature hit me as she and Sam stepped out of the elevator. Citrus trees on a hot summer day. Every sense I had was on alert, and I could hear the swish of her pants and feel the erratic stomp of her boots as she came down the hall.
She was definitely tipsy, a miracle for a werewolf. What had happened?
I poured another finger and tossed it back, setting the glass down firmly as the pair entered.
“Should I give you two a moment?” Sam asked when I rounded the corner.
“Stay.” My voice was rough as I took in the mess that was Savannah. The scent of her shame and grief mixed with the sweet and spicy aromas of tequila and something else. “She’ll fall over if you put her down.”
Savannah stepped forward on her own—somewhat unsteadily—her eyes flashing with defiance. “I’m not sure what crawled up your ass, Jax, but I just had one of the worst nights of my life, so lay off.”
“Is that so?” My jaw tensed, but I remained calm as I prowled around her. She wasn’t just tipsy—she was drunk on bottom-shelf tequila and Jack Daniels.
I gripped the countertop and dug my claws into the underside as another aroma cut the air: demon. Male.
“It smells like you had quite a good time,” I said, having to grind out each word.
Someone has touched our mate, my wolf growled.
My claws and fangs erupted as jealousy tore into me like a wild animal, and Savannah flinched as I leaned in and brushed her hair away from her neck, where the scent of demon was strongest. “A very good time.”
Sam awkwardly disappeared into the kitchen.
Images of the man who’d had his hands—and mouth—all over her made me homicidal, and I had to fight the urge to put my fists through something.
Ours,snarled my wolf.
Fury spiked in her eyes, and she seized the lapel of my jacket. “Screw you! You’ve got no idea, so back off!”
Even as she pushed me, I gripped her wrist and pulled her close. The warm contours of her body pressed into me, causing heat to coil inside. “I have some idea,” I snarled. “But why don’t you fill me in on the details?”
Savannah jerked out of my grip and took several steps back, putting distance between us.
The scent of rage and alcohol boiled from her, but somehow, I knew it was a façade, masking a deeper truth.
I took a deep breath and drew on every sense I had. Pain and regret vibrated from every inch of her body, and I could practically taste the salty hint of tears. Her sorrow churned in my gut like it was my own, and I could feel the ache of blood pounding in her temples. I exhaled slowly and took a step forward.
Savannah took another step back, and I paused.
It was like a knife.
We studied each other in the silence of the room. My mate was broken and in pain, and nothing I felt mattered. Whatever jealousy I had, I slew it then and there.
“I’m sorry.” Speaking the words made my jaw tic, but it was right. “Please tell me what’s going on.”
She glared at me with a burning hatred that seared my skin like a wall of flame. But then it broke, and she looked to the side with a single tear hovering at the corner of her eye. “I fucked everything up. I attacked my aunt, and now my cousin knows I’m a wolf.”
I nodded. “So I gathered. Casey called me, blaming the pack. What happened?”
She sighed and rubbed her face, the fight in her completely faded. “After you dropped me off, I talked to Laurel. The conversation twisted, and I found out that I’d been born a werewolf, and that she knew.”
My heart stopped for a second, then began to slowly accelerate.
She’d been born a wolf. The implications for our mate bond were staggering. But that wasn’t the most surprising aspect. I reached for my glass, but it was empty. “Laurel…knew?”
That was practically unfathomable. She’d never have accepted Savannah into their house if she’d known…
But Savannah nodded and bit her lip.