Dom (The Pack 4)

“I was no match for him,” she admitted, rubbing her scalp and wincing. “I guess he didn’t have time to lick my head?”

Surprised laughter barked from me and I tugged her into my arms. Her nose bumped my chest as I wrapped my arms around her tightly. She touched my back hesitantly, caught off guard by my sudden embrace, but as her fingers dug into my sides, some of my tension eased. I’d come so close to losing her, too close, that I knew I’d do anything to keep her safe, even if it meant letting her go.

Dampness trickled down my chest, alerting me to the fact that she was crying. “Hey, don’t cry,” I crooned roughly. “You survived.” I paused, uncomfortable with this rare display of emotion from her, but finally said, “I’m proud of you.” I moved, trying to look at her but she curved around me, clinging tightly to my body. I let her, enjoying the snuggling sensation because it meant she was alive. “Of all the reactions, I never expected crying. You never react normally,” I accused in frustration as her tears continued to drip down my chest. She didn’t answer as she squeezed tighter, unwilling to let me go. I cradled her head, my fingers gently massaging her scalp as I wondered if she was in pain.

“Do you want me to lick your scalp?” I asked in desperation and she laughed, not realizing I was completely serious.

She sniffed, lifting her head to wipe away the tears as she said, “No, no licking.” Her other hand continued to grip my side as I ran my hand along her spine, each of us taking advantage of the moment.

“Seeing you run toward me as he lunged at you was one of the worst moment of my life. Then watching Justin, drag you, hit you, I lost any control I may have had,” I admitted hesitantly, wondering what she thought of the violent side of me. Her hand squeezed my side as she looked up at me. “You should have never been put in that kind of danger,” I told her roughly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she replied, soothing my guilt. “We thought it was safe or we wouldn’t have kept walking, and honestly it was them.” She glared at Justin’s dead body, anger vibrating through her. “He did this. He thought I belonged to him. He said stuff….” She trailed off, swallowing hard.

“Forget him and what he said.” I tilted her head up to meet my eyes. “You’re safe and I will keep you that way,” I swore and she nodded, but it didn’t wipe the fear completely from her face.

I tugged her forward, wanting to get her away from the bodies and the reminder of what happened. We came across her backpack a few minutes later and she glanced over her shoulder.

“I didn’t get very far,” she noted, picking up her bag where she’d dropped it when she’d run toward me.

“You tried. That’s what’s important.”

“I couldn’t fight them off,” she said bitterly.

“You shouldn’t have had to,” I rumbled, angry with myself. She thought she was safe with us and still she’d been attacked.

“We thought they’d given up. It was my mistake.” She shook her head, upset. “And all I did was put you at risk too.”

“No,” I denied instantly, wanting to stop that train of thought immediately. She had done nothing wrong. She had never asked us to protect her. That had and would always be my choice. “It was bound to happen eventually,” I assured her. “This has been building for years. You happened to be the catalyst. They would have never given up trying to take you.”

“Is it wrong that I’m glad they’re dead?”

I squeezed her hand, admiring her bloodthirsty tendencies. “No, they terrorized you. They deserved what they got,” I added, curling my lip.

“I wish I could have fought them off, done more,” she muttered, frustration rolling off her.

“You couldn’t have,” I told her bluntly, not wanting her to blame herself for not being strong enough or fast enough when she’d had no hope in hell of winning. She glanced at me curiously and I shrugged. “You couldn’t have fought them off. You couldn’t have beat them. Not even Justin. No more than you could fight me. We’re too strong. Stronger than normal,” I clarified to make sure she understood.

“So there’s nothing I could do if one of them comes after me again?” I could hear her need to not be helpless, her determination to protect herself.

“A gun,” I told her, knowing it wouldn’t do much but it might give her a fighting chance to get away. “And zero hesitation.” I stopped and faced her, making sure she understood my next words. “Promise me, if you are ever in that position you’ll take the shot. No hesitation. You’ll have one chance and one chance only. Use it.”