[[OLD]] A Handful of Daffodils (Forgotten Series, #7)

Chapter Sixty-Two

I paced on the porch but could hear nothing. They had been talking for what seemed like hours and I wanted to go inside and pull Menza close and apologize. But the same time I wanted to hunker down in shame over what I had done. The time dragged on and my regrets dragged me down into an abyss of self-loathing that I couldn't, and quite frankly did not want to, pull myself out of.

"You okay?" Mike sounded rather lazy and I glanced at him and he was leaning against one of the pillars his arms crossed over his chest. I nodded and then turned back, closing my eyes.

I was the worst type of male. She had walked in and took one look at me and was instantly back to looking at the floor, her hands clasped in front of her, timid, trembling, and scared of punishment. It had revulsion, disgust, and self-loathing fill me and I tightened my hands into fists. I was the worst sort of male.

"How do I fix this?" I hadn't expected to see her again, not like this and all I wanted to do was fix it.

"This isn't something I think you can fix." Mike let out a sigh and I glanced over at him, rubbing at my hands as if it would take the blood off of them, as if it would rub away the cruelty I had inflicted. "I think with this you just gotta work with what you have and try to make up for it. I don't know, Brochan. I know about as much as you do." He was shrugging when I glanced over at him again and I closed my eyes.

I wanted to fix this, with every fibre of my being. I wanted to go over to her, to pull her close and tell her a hundred different times that I was so sorry and that what I did was wrong but I also didn't want to touch her, to spread that tainted guilt I had on my hands to her. She didn't deserve that and I had to wonder how much of me wanting to gather her close and apologize was to ease my own guilt rather than right the wrong done to her.

The front door opened and I whirled around, rubbing at my mouth. "Mr. O'Neill." The Hunter looked at me, his expression stony and I didn't know what to say. What could I say? The evidence was right fucking there about what happened. She had scars, I knew she must have, and the story was the truth.

"Yes, sir?" I looked at him and I knew. There was to be punishment for what happened and I wanted there to be. I needed to make up for it and I would take wherever it was the Hunters deemed necessary.

"Come inside." He stepped away from the door and I glanced at Mike. He looked between the two of us and the Hunter shook his head. "Just Mr. O'Neill. You can leave." Mike nodded and I watched as he pushed off the pillar and walked away without a word. "Inside please." At the order I nodded, slowly making my way inside. I could hear Menza crying and my eyes immediately sought her out. She was curled up against the white haired shifter's chest, taking in gasping inhales that she sobbed out as she covered her face with her hands. My heart sank like a stone and my wolf whined and scratched at the inside of my skull.

I took half a step towards her before I froze. The witch and the white haired shifter both pinned me with looks that were enough to curdle milk. "I don't fucking think so, fido." The words were snapped out from the witch and she crossed her arms over her chest. That hair raising look on her face and I ran a hand through my hair, fisting and then yanking on the strands as I bared my teeth. I looked at Menza, at how she shuddered through her tears and it broke my fucking heart.

I did that to her.

"Elf, watch your tone. Ms Aristotle requires assistance." At the statement I looked over my shoulder and the Hunter shut the front door, moving into the house before sitting on a pulled out chair. "Clearly pulling the spell off completely was a bad choice." His voice was light and I turned to look at the witch but she was hovering over Menza and the other shifter I knew had to be Duffy, rubbing her back, speaking to her in low tones before the scent of flowers grew unbearably strong and Menza's sobbing tapered to hiccuping sighs.