Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack #4)(78)

“Home,” said Bracken, switching on the ignition just as a Phoenix Pack vehicle pulled up and Ryan exited it, obviously there for Makenna.

Bracken gave the enforcer a quick nod and then merged into traffic. He took deep breaths as he drove to his territory, reminding himself that his mate was alive, that he hadn’t lost her, but the calm he needed just didn’t come. It was like he couldn’t quite connect with his body or deeper emotions. His psyche was still in detached mode, protecting him. He knew from experience that such states could last awhile.

He didn’t park in the lot near the main lodge. He took the off-road path that led deep into their territory, heading for his own home—which would have been a hell of a lot easier in an all-terrain vehicle.

As he pulled up outside his lodge, the cat’s head rose. She watched him, loose and relaxed, but he wasn’t mistaking that for calm. Not when he could still feel her anger. He scratched at her head, making soothing noises. She didn’t swipe at him, thankfully, but he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t if the mood struck her.

Bracken grabbed Madisyn’s purse, hopped out of the car, and held open the door for her. “Come on.”

Unfurling from her ball, the little cat slowly got to her feet and sprang out of the car. Regal in the way she walked, the cat slinked her way up the path and onto the porch. The moment he opened the front door, she raced upstairs. Bracken slung Madisyn’s purse on the sofa and followed the feline. He heard bones popping and snapping, so it was no surprise to enter the bathroom and find Madisyn standing there, panting, eyes glittering . . . sporting bruises and rake marks.

His wolf went apeshit.

Madisyn watched Bracken close in on her. Face blank, he walked smoothly, each move very deliberate and precise. He looked cool and loose, but he had that air about him that always made her think of a snake that was coiled to strike.

The only thing she could feel from him was that awful numbing rage that was so cold it burned. She knew his mind had shut down his emotions to help him cope with the situation. And while it did indeed spare him from the panic and powerlessness that must have hit him, it wasn’t a good thing. Seeing him so disconnected . . . no, it just wasn’t good.

“Let me see your wounds,” he said, his voice so devoid of expression that it almost made her shiver.

“I just have a few scratches on my sides,” she told him, going for aloof to reassure him and keep his temper in check. “They’re not bad.”

“I want to see.”

“They’ve already closed over. My kind are fast healers.”

“I want to see,” he repeated, raising her arms a little. He crouched to take a good look at the wounds. “You’re right. They’re not bad, and they’re healing well.” He lightly breezed his mouth over one of the scratches, a growl building in his throat. “What happened?”

“I stopped at a red light, and he just slipped into the back of the car. Took me completely by surprise. As did the gun he jabbed into the back of my seat. It’s probably still in the car somewhere. Anyway, he started giving me directions . . .” She trailed off as Bracken feathered kisses over her other scratches.

“But you didn’t follow them.”

“No. He got frustrated. I shifted. We tangled. And then he must have decided I wasn’t worth the bother because he got out of the car. But Makenna’s wolf was waiting, and she struck before he could run or shift.”

Standing, Bracken traced his claiming mark on her neck, eyes locked with hers. “The bastard will die for what he did. And he’ll feel a shitload of pain before he does.”

Marveling at how he could say that with absolutely no emotion, Madisyn watched as he shed his clothes in minimal, slightly rigid movements before herding her into the shower. As they stood under the hot spray, he wordlessly cleaned her wounds and washed away the blood streaking her skin. His touch was soft but clinical. Efficient. It rubbed her cat the wrong way. The feline was already in a shitty mood.

Madisyn melted into him, curling her arms around his neck. “I know you didn’t deliberately shut down, but I’m still not having it. You’re going to have to snap out of this soon.”

He splayed his hands on her back. “Next time you go to the shelter, I go with you. I stay with you. I leave with you.”

Oh Lord. Tensing, she lifted her head. “Bracken—”

“No sense in arguing with me on this,” he said, his voice still flat. “It’s not up for debate.”

“You’re an enforcer. You have duties,” she reminded him.

“I’m not the only enforcer. I can swap shifts with someone else.” He shut off the shower and stepped onto the mat, closing a door on the conversation.

As he patted her dry with a towel, she said, “You didn’t fail me, Bracken.” He ground his teeth but didn’t acknowledge that she’d even spoken. “That’s what’s going through your head. And it’s keeping you in this state, because your psyche wants to protect you from the guilt that’ll come tumbling down the first chance it gets. You didn’t fail me.”

Having wrapped the towel around her, he met her gaze as he began to dry himself off with another towel. “You’re right. I didn’t fail to protect you. I didn’t have the chance to even try because I wasn’t with you. From now on, I will be.”