Bloodlust

The Price of Freedom

— VENICE —

"Are you hurt?" Macay questioned as his gaze ran over every centimeter of my body. "How's your head? What about your ankle?"

"I'm okay," I assured him.

My mind was a cluster of thoughts I didn't have the heart to sort through. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but I knew I had to keep pushing on if I wanted out of this place.

A warm, calloused hand grasped my chin and tilted my face up. My eyes held Macay's.

His irises were such an unusual green color, full of different shades ranging from gold, emerald, honey, and sage. Studying the colors helped me momentarily forget my situation.

"Oh, here," he said, holding something up. "I brought you a shirt."

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten once again that my shirt was in tatters. I didn't have time or energy to feel insecure or embarrassed when all this danger and drama was lurking about.

"Thank you," I told him sincerely.

Accepting the shirt, I moved to stand but was met with a wall of pain in my skull.

"Don't move," he said. "I'll turn around and give you some privacy."

I nodded because it was all I could do. He turned away while I peeled off the dirty, ruined shirt and pulled his white tee over my head. His spicy, woodsy scent clung to the material. I found it calming.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his back still to me.

"Hm?" Then I cleared my throat and added, "You can turn around now."

His gaze raked over me. He visibly relaxed, a content gleam in his eye.

Returning to sit beside me, he said, "I'm sorry all of this has happened to you."

I blinked and looked away from him. I had to remind myself that Macay was still a stranger to me. In my desperation to survive, I'd let him get too close. He seemed to mistake that for trust or affection.

Still, the mission wasn't over yet and Macay could be the key to unlocking the King Alpha's presence. Maisie was nowhere to be seen and I didn't know if she'd hold up to her to our deal anyway.

Liam might succeed in talking to Alasdair first, which I hoped for, but I had to assume he would be caught up in the Eleanor drama.

Macay was my most reliable option and I had more leverage over his feelings. I'd worry about the blackmail later and pursue this opportunity while I could.

I had to take matters into my own hands if I wanted to endure our freedom. I couldn't afford to push Macay away just yet.

And if I was honest with myself, I wanted to know if the second-chance mate thing was real. I had no interest in a relationship with this lycan, but I deserved to know what was true and what wasn't.

Not to mention that, assuming the mate thing was real, his heart and future were on the line here, too. The least I could do out of respect for both of us was to pursue the truth.

"Why are you apologizing?" I asked. "You're not the cause of any of my problems right now."

I righted myself with my arms and felt an ache strum through them. My body was exhausted.

"No, that's true," he agreed, "but someone needs to say it. You don't deserve any of this."

A rush of hot liquid in my eyes, shocking me. I cupped a hand to my mouth to suppress a sob.

This is really not the time for a breakdown.

I couldn't stop myself from erupting into tears. All of the stress and danger and emotional turmoil I'd faced these last few weeks boiled to a head and spilled over.