Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae 1)

Guilt burned through him.

He felt like his life was coming apart. A week ago, he’d been the master of his own universe, in total control. Only a matter of days, really, yet things had gotten completely messed up. He barely knew what end was up anymore. He certainly had no idea why.

He dropped his head. He felt lost.Chapter Twenty-SevenCharity hiccupped out a sob from under her covers. She hadn’t cried this hard since her mother had left. And if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t crying for Donnie. Not for Sam, either, whom she could no longer fool herself about. She was crying because she was afraid. She was crying because, for the first time in a very long time, she didn’t feel like she had any control. She’d completely lost it in that lecture hall. Her brain had completely shut off. If Devon hadn’t rushed to her aid, she would’ve let that creature take her. Let it claim her body and then her life.

The thought scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

When you cared about someone, or needed someone, and they walked away, they left an unfillable void in their wake. She’d experienced that with her mother and John; she couldn’t bear for it to happen again. But right now, in this screwed-up new life she didn’t understand, she needed Devon. She needed his experience and his know-how. Hell, she needed his support. That thought alone terrified her to the core.

A motor revved and then pulled away from the house. Probably Andy. A moment later, a feminine voice drifted through her door.

She peeked out from under her covers. Two shadows interrupted the light from under her door. Someone was in the hallway. Yasmine?

An uncomfortable feeling churned in Charity’s gut. Yasmine would get to cuddle up with the solid warmth of Devon, basking in his protection and strength. Charity didn’t begrudge the two their rendezvous—she had no interest in that side of things—but she would miss the innocent intimacy of his presence. He was a moody bastard, but when it really counted, he was a rock. He’d been there for her since the beginning, even when he would’ve rather been anywhere else.

Miserable, Charity sank deeper into her covers, wishing she had earplugs. She didn’t want to hear them and be reminded of how desperate she had been for that creature to touch her. Nor be reminded of who that creature had been.

Before she knew it, Charity was curled into a ball, crying so hard that it felt like her spleen was being ripped out. She didn’t hear the car approaching the house, nor the argument that trailed down the hallway. She didn’t even hear her door opening and the footsteps to her bed.

Her covers ripped away. A scream died in her throat as Devon bent down in a rush, scooping her up in his strong arms and hugging her tightly to his chest. He flicked off the light as he carried her from the room, crossed the hall, and closed his door behind them.

“But what about—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Devon answered quietly, depositing her gently onto his bed. He pulled off his shirt and stepped out of his pants, leaving on his boxer briefs, and slipped in beside her. He put out an arm and gathered her up against his warm chest. “Go to sleep. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”The next morning, Charity moved through her fighting postures, kicking and punching the air with everything she had, trying to forget. Trying to wipe out Donnie’s howling face. Trying to scrub away the feeling of being chased through the nightmare house. If she was going to live in a world with those creatures, she needed to push herself harder. She had to get faster, stronger.

Strangely, she wasn’t embarrassed about the vulnerability she’d shown the night before. Maybe it was because Devon hadn’t shown any pity or asked for anything in return. He’d just…been there. The man was a good guy. Extremely loyal. It almost gave him a pass for being a dick half the time.

Breathing out a sigh, drenched in sweat, she slowed. Then stopped. Panting, she headed back into the house. That boring job in the admin office was starting to look better. Especially since she hadn’t gotten a paycheck from this new job yet and she needed food.

As she passed through the sliding glass doors and sitting room, she saw Yasmine enter the kitchen in tight, sparkly pink leggings and a tube top that barely covered her large breasts. How the woman wasn’t freezing her butt off, Charity did not know.

“Hey,” Charity said, wiping her face of sweat.

Yasmine stopped at the edge of the kitchen and popped out a hip. “Well, look who it is.” The sneer erased some of her beauty. “The tag-along. I know what game you’re playing. It won’t work for long, I can assure you.”