Stolen and Forgiven (Branded Packs #1)(71)



Cora frowned. “Guilt for what?”

He absently stroked his thumb over her knuckles, his expression unbearably sad.

“For not being able to give Leah my heart because you already possessed it.”

Her lips parted on a dismayed sigh.

Crap. She’d been so caught up in her own sense of betrayal, she hadn’t really thought about the cost to both Soren and his young mate.

And even if she had, she would never have considered the possibility that Soren would not only continue to love her, but that his feelings for her would have affected his relationship with Leah.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed.

His face clenched with soul-deep remorse. “She deserved better.”

Leaning forward, she brushed her mouth over his lips in a gentle kiss.

“You did what you thought was best for your Pack,” she murmured.

He gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “And hurt everyone in the process.”

Cora heaved a sigh. There was nothing she could say to make things better. He was determined to blame himself for a situation none of them could have changed.

Only time would ease his pain.

“You said that guilt was what you told yourself kept us apart,” she reminded him, hoping to distract his dark thoughts.

Tightening his grip, he pulled her fingers to his lips. “When I woke up to find you gone from my bed, I felt as if I’d been slugged in the gut.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry.”

He nipped the tips of her fingers. “It made me realize how desperately I didn’t want to experience that sense of loss.”

“By avoiding me?”

“Yes.” He held her gaze. “As long as I kept you as a distant fantasy, then I could cling to the belief that we would eventually be mated. But if I’d come to you and you couldn’t forgive me, or worse, if you’d found another male, then I couldn’t hold on to my hope.” She felt him tremble. “And that would have been unbearable.”

****

Soren’s wolf pressed against his skin, deeply troubled by Cora’s pale face and the weary smudges beneath her eyes.

This was his female.

He wanted to care for her. And that meant getting her out of the man-cage and taking her someplace where she would be warm and comfortable and tucked in his arms.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen until he was strong enough to get off the damned floor. Then, he had to find a way to lure the guard to open the door…

He gave a shake of his head.

First he had to get out the bullet so he could heal.

After that, he could concentrate on getting them out of the cell.

Kneeling at his side, Cora gazed down at him with a troubled expression.

“I wish I hadn’t left your bed,” she murmured softly.

“Me, too.” He deliberately lightened his tone. He hadn’t intended to play on her sympathy. Pity from this female was the last thing he wanted. He just needed her to understand why he’d waited so long to come to his senses and claim her as his mate. “We would certainly be having a lot more fun, not to mention a decent bed to sleep in.”

Instead of being comforted as he’d hoped, she managed to look even more upset.

“And you wouldn’t have a bullet in your shoulder and a cracked skull,” she said.

He sucked the tip of her finger between his lips, holding her worried gaze.

“Unless I pissed you off,” he teased.

It took a long moment, but as if sensing her distress was agitating his inner animal, she managed to force a smile to her lips.

“I promise that I’ll never shoot you,” she said. “I might bite or scratch-”

“Mmm,” he interrupted with a throaty growl. “You promise?”

“You’re impossible.” She gave a reluctant laugh, pulling her fingers from his grasp. “I meant that I was sorry I allowed my fear to overcome my desire to stay in your arms.”

He studied her pale face. The thought she could ever be afraid of him was…

Horrifying.

He clenched his jaw. “Why would you be frightened?”

“You make me vulnerable,” she whispered.

He flinched as if she’d struck him. “You’re afraid I’ll hurt you again.”

His words came out as a statement, not a question.

She shook her head, belatedly realizing that her words had hit him like a blow.

“I think it’s more a fear that fate might once again steal you away.”

“Nothing is going to separate us, not ever again,” he swore, his face abruptly twisting as a searing pain blasted through his shoulder. “Shit.”

Instantly, Cora was leaning forward to frame his face with her hands, concern darkening her eyes.

“Soren?”

He tried to speak, but the words were replaced by a hiss of pain as his body went rigid. Christ. It felt as if someone was shoving a hot poker through his wounded flesh.

After what seemed like an eternity, the skin of his shoulder bulged and the bullet was at last pushed from his wounded flesh.

“Damn, I think it hurts worse coming out than it did going in,” he muttered.

Taking a minute to catch his breath, Soren savored the sensation of his body beginning to heal. Without the damned bullet, it wouldn’t take long for the hole in his shoulder to close and his skull to repair the hairline fracture.

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