Roaring Up the Wrong Tree (27 page)

Adrienne
.

She hadn’t killed the woman. The hyena was disappointed.

A cry collided with a snarl and she pushed that fight from her mind. She had Reid beneath her and she wanted him dead, craved his blood and wanted to bathe in—

Human hands hauled her from atop the Alpha, pulled her and shoved her behind a naked, red-stained back. Keen. Keen kept her from the man who’d tortured her year after year and—

The scrape of metal on metal told her Keen had racked the slide on the gun, making sure a bullet lived in the chamber. She didn’t know a lot about guns, but that sound was familiar.

“Fucking move and I will fucking end you.” Keen’s voice held more than a little of his bear.

A wailing yelp raced on the heels of Keen’s last syllable and Trista looked toward the source, saw a massive, rapidly shifting bear standing over the limp body of a wolf, its neck tilted at an unnatural angle. In moments, she met Van’s stare. He’d wanted Trista dead and now he’d killed to protect her.

Trista focused on Adrienne’s lifeless body. The woman was gone and she couldn’t find any sadness over the loss of life.

In fact, her hyena rejoiced.

Trista let it.

The trek from the lake to the clan house seemed endless. Lethargy pulled at Keen, the loss of blood combined with the adrenaline crash sapping his energy. But he refused to lose focus. Pain or not, protecting Trista and remaining at her side trumped all.

She leaned against him, her weight comforting his bear as they made their way to the den. He sensed her pain, her exhaustion, yet she refused to let him carry her.

The bear was both pleased and enraged by her strength. It wanted to hold her close, ensure she was safe and whole. Instead, she’d pushed away his hands and simply leaned against him as they forced one foot in front of the other.

Males rushed from the house, racing toward them. The scent of their panic and worry reached them a bare moment before they stood before him and his mate.

“Keen?” Ty’s gaze swept over him and then Trista. Trista with her battered body and exposed skin. Ignoring his brother’s question, he demanded the man hand over his button-down shirt. “What? You want…?”

Keen nudged Trista behind him. He didn’t give a damn about his own nudity, just his mate’s. “Give me the fucking shirt.”

Ty’s attention shifted from Keen to Trista and back again, eyes widening. “Oh.”

It took seconds for his brother to strip and Keen turned toward Trista, assisting her into the massive button-down, covering her seeping wounds and bare skin from view. As he clothed his mate, he spoke to Ty. The men who’d accompanied Ty had already raced off to assist Van and left him to give his report.

“Reid and Adrienne attacked. There’s a twisted history between Trista’s father and Reid’s mother. The man’s rage was justified but his methods were anything but.” Keen slipped the last button through the hole and turned to Ty. “Van took care of Adrienne.”

“I see,” Ty murmured. “And you two are okay?”

Keen snorted. They were both bloodied, bruised, and torn apart, but at least they were alive.

He focused on Trista, on her upturned face and the clear blue of her eyes. Fear no longer lurked now that the imminent threat of death was gone. Reid couldn’t fight her despite the amount of hatred he harbored. The male was going to be locked up and presented for judgment when Terrence arrived. If Trista was the man’s niece, the Alpha attacked someone in the Southeast ruling family. The Itan would not tolerate such an infraction go unpunished.

No, fear didn’t linger, but tiredness and vestiges of pain did. Dirt dotted her pale skin, hiding the depth of her bruises, but he knew they were just beneath the brown surface. He wished Adrienne still breathed so he could exact his own brand of justice.

“We’re as good as can be expected, I guess.”

Ty cleared his throat. “What do you two need? We’ll sort out the mess here, but what can we do for you?”

Keen cupped his mate’s cheek, brushing away a clump of dirt and grass. The scent of her blood taunted the bear and the animal urged him to get his mate away from these others so they could assess her injuries. He reminded the beast they had a few of their own to inspect, but it didn’t give a damn. The inner-animal was more concerned with Trista.

“Have some first aid supplies brought to the guestroom.” His voice was imbued with his bear’s growl.

“Do you want Mom to tend to you?”

“No.” He shook his head while remaining focused on his mate. He knew his mother would do a good job cleaning them up, but he needed to be alone with Trista, needed to reassure his animal and remind the bear she was alive and on her way to being well. “We will take care of each other.”

“But—” Ty tried again.

Keen straightened the shirt covering his mate and then spun to face Ty. “We’re good. If you could take care of Reid, I’d like to take care of my mate.”

“Of course, of course…” Ty nodded. “I’ll have supplies brought to you. And if you need anything else…”

“We’ll ask.” He wouldn’t suffer out of pride. Trista was more important than his ego. If she needed something he’d either hunt for it or ask someone to provide for them.

Ty stepped aside and Keen led his mate away, easing past the rapidly growing crowd. No one stopped them, no one uttered a sound. Murmurs of the gathered people followed them, Ty’s a hint louder than the others, and then one of the resident guards jogged ahead of them.

He kept his steps even with Trista’s, not hurrying his mate as they approached the den. The back door was held open by the guard and the male followed them in, pausing to speak with Gigi.

Keen still didn’t stop. No, he carefully led Trista down the hallway and into the room they’d share.

Quiet reigned, the lack of sound comfortable and almost soothing.

Button by button he undressed her, sliding Ty’s shirt from her shoulders before going to work on her clothing. Marred flesh peeked through the large tears and his bear bristled, growling with the desire to tear Adrienne to pieces.

He eased her toward the bed and urged her to settle on the soft mattress. Then, ignoring his own pain, he dropped to his knees and reached for the cloth clinging to her.

“Keen?”

“Hush,” he whispered. His claws came out without asking his animal for help. He easily sliced away the remaining fabric, parting it to reveal her once pale skin. “Oh, Tris.”

His eyes stung and he told himself it was because of dirt and not the emotional agony coursing through him. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss near one of her healing wounds and then moved to another, gently begging her forgiveness with each touch. “This shouldn’t have happened. I failed you.”

“Oh, Keen.” Soft, dirt-caked hands stroked him, brushing over his cheeks, and he allowed her to tilt his head back. “There was nothing you could have done. They wanted this and they got it. This isn’t you or me, it’s
them
.
They
did this, not you.”

“I…”
I should have protected you better.

“Now you hush.” She grasped one of his hands, pulling him away from her hip, and she brought it to her mouth. Soft lips brushed over his palm and then she forced him to rest his hand over her heart. “Can you feel my heart?”

Of course he could. He lived for her, and was aware of her on infinite levels. He knew her heart still beat because his beat for her. If her life ever ended, his would crack into a thousand pieces. “Of course.”

“Then you know I’m alive, I’m here, and I’m with you. This”—she gestured to her body with her free hand—“is nothing as long as you and I are together. Nothing.”

A rustle of cloth had him dragging his attention from his mate and to the bedroom door. He noted a flick of pale fabric disappearing from view just as he recognized a familiar first aid kit resting inside the doorway.

Another reminder that he’d failed his mate, that he hadn’t kept her from harm. Seemed that’d been happening a lot lately.

“I need to take care of you.” He slid his hand from beneath hers, but she curled her fingers around him, halting his retreat.

“Like you said, we’ll take care of each other.” Trista pushed to her feet and the tattered remnants of her clothing drifted to the ground.

He was going to hell for staring, going to hell for looking at the patches of pale skin and becoming aroused with the sight. She was so gorgeous. Even battered, broken, and bruised, she appealed to him, to his bear.

“Grab the kit and let’s go into the bathroom.” With those words, she stepped around him and shuffled toward the bathroom.

In a flash, he snatched up the kit and followed her, holding her arm as she stepped on the smooth tile, ensuring she didn’t stumble.

“Easy. Don’t fall.” He kept his voice low and soothing even though his bear was full of rage. Now that she was nude, more of her injuries were revealed. Cuts and scrapes hidden by fabric were illuminated and he swallowed the snarl that filled his throat.

When Trista gasped, he realized she’d finally seen the damage to her body.

“Oh my God.” Her voice quavered and she slumped forward, hardly catching her weight on the counter.

“Shh…” Keen wrapped his arms around her, careful of her healing injuries. “I have you. I have you.”

“How can you even look at me?”

“Because I love you,” he murmured. “I love you and you’re alive and we’re together, Tris. That’s all I need.” He shifted his hold slightly, taking more of her weight. “Lemme clean you. The bear is frantic to take care of you.”

It was, it scraped and clawed at him, furious that their mate was not only physically injured, but emotionally as well. It really,
really
wanted to hunt Adrienne and kill her again. Then he’d go after Reid.

Trista nodded, but otherwise remained silent. Carefully he eased her toward the toilet, lowering the lid and then helping her sit. The moment she was settled, he went into action, snaring and then wetting washcloths, tugging out supplies and laying out everything he needed.

Then he turned to her, to his mate, and prepared himself for what was to come. Keen was already healed—dirty, but only slightly achy—while Trista had seeping wounds that were gradually knitting together and forming scabs.

He snared a damp cloth and padded toward her. “I dunno where to touch you and not hurt you, Tris.”

“You’re not going to be able to.” Trista glanced at her body and then brought her gaze back to him, to the washcloth in his hand. “That isn’t going to do the job.” She shook her head. “Turn on the shower.”

The bear liked the idea of a wet mate. It acknowledged that she was in pain, but as water washed away the grime…

“It might not be best to have you wet and naked, Trista.” The bear stretched inside him, pressing against his skin and urging to keep his human mouth shut. He felt the stirrings of lust, the desire to reaffirm his claim growing with every second. Keen wanted her, his bear craved her, and stepping into the shower would begin a series of events that he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d take her, make her his once again, and hate himself for every joyous moment of it. “I can’t keep my hands to myself if we do that. I… the bear…”

He squatted before her, leaning close and pressing his forehead to hers. It was the only point of contact he’d allow himself for the moment. His cock was already stirring, thoughts of touching her further sliding through his mind. He fought the urge to reach for her, to allow the animal control.

“He…”

*

Trista knew the thoughts spinning through Keen’s mind because they mirrored her own. She recognized the first hints of his desire and was surprised to find her body reacted in kind.

“He needs to be reminded I’m alive.” She reached for him, running her fingers along his cheek. “I’m still breathing, Keen. And those feelings? The need? I feel it, too.” Her inner-animal chuffed and whined, wanting to sink her teeth into his flesh, to feel him inside her. Breathing. Living. Loving. “Turn on the shower. Turn it on and then we’ll wash today away. The worst is over now. No matter what Quinn says tomorrow, no matter what happens, we have each other and that won’t change.”

His eyes met hers, brown swirling with the midnight of his bear. Keen’s skin rippled, as if his beast were just beneath the thin veneer. His gaze never wavered and she knew he was weighing the truth of her words, hunting for any hint of a lie.

He wouldn’t find any subterfuge. Her hyena wanted him, craved him. They’d battled Reid and Adrienne and came out alive.

Trista opened to him, let him see every emotion in her heart. “Go start the water.”

He remained still for another moment and then two before finally going into motion. His muscles flexed and tensed, rolling beneath his skin as he moved. Fur rippled across the tanned expanse, hints of brown appearing and then sliding away. If she hadn’t known he was a shifter, the event would have alarmed her. As it was, the appearance of his bear only served to urge her to go to him, touch and stroke him. Her beast didn’t give a damn about the wounds she’d sustained, it brushed them aside as if they were nothing. And truly, compared to the thought of touching her mate, they were inconsequential.

The knitting of flesh itched and stung as she healed and she knew bright pink lines would soon cover her. Yet the sludge of the fight clung to her.

In moments Keen had the water running and steam filled the air. He returned to her, hands gentle as he helped her stand, yet firm when she wavered.

“Easy…” His voice was low, rough and smooth at the same time. Bear and man.

Her hyena responded to both, purring inside Trista’s mind. She couldn’t shift, couldn’t access the furry part of her animal, but she was closer to it than ever before.

Her mate brought out the beast in her.

“I’m fine.” She managed to hide the hint of pain that coursed through her body.

“Uh-huh.” Or not.

Keen eased her into the shower, holding her steady when she would have fallen, and blocking the initial spray of water with his own body. She looked him over, noting the already healed wounds, the pink lines lightened before her eyes until they were simply scars.