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I wanted to feel angry, needed the burn of rage in my veins for this fight. But I couldn’t muster the fire when I saw the despair in his eyes. I could speak the truth, though. Whether or not he’d meant well didn’t matter.
“What you could do wasn’t enough.”
20
Catnip for Shifters
FLOR
What you could do wasn’t enough. My harsh words hung in the air between us.
“I know,” he acknowledged at last. “I don’t expect you to agree to be my mate. I… I wouldn’t want you to settle for someone like me. Someone with so little honor.”
I rolled my eyes. “Luke, it’s true, you may not be much. In a pack like ours, though, you’re super fucking honorable. You want me to forgive you? If I live, if I get away from this place, you have to try harder. Not just for me. For the kids who aren’t getting enough food. For the other females who get caught by toadfuckers like Trevor and can’t get away.”
“I will.” He let his hand fall from my neck, and I wanted to grab it and set it back on my skin. “And I’ll make sure you get through this night, if I have to give my own life to make it so.”
I huffed. “I’m not some damsel, Luke. Get me in the ring with Trevor. I’ll kick his ass, but then you gotta make sure that Glen or Brand or someone makes a bid. Someone has to bid for me. I…” My voice broke. “I don’t know if I can hide again. I’ve been hunted for so long, I got a feeling my luck’s dried up.”
“You won’t be hunted again.” Luke’s voice crackled with something—passion, or conviction, or maybe just exhaustion like mine. “I’ll make sure you’re not. Somehow.”
I sighed. Somehow. That wasn’t a plan. That was just a hope. I took a breath to tell him not to bother with empty promises, but he was gone, and I was under the rope in the corral and swathed in tall, hot, male bodies.
For a moment, I was able to see the humor in it. Pretty much every other female shifter in my pack would give their right boob to be this close to so many males. Of course, they wouldn’t have wanted it if it meant they had to fight in the Games.
And I wouldn’t have had it any other way, I reminded myself. I didn’t want to be a mate to any of these males. I wanted to be their equal. I forced a grin as some of the fighters moved in, hiding me in their circle.
“You made it,” Patrick said, his tone conveying relief and surprise.
“You thought I might not? You underestimated how badly I want out of this pisshole.” A few of the shifters around me laughed softly.
“Querida.” Joaquin stepped directly in front of me, and I fought to keep my expression calm, though my pulse hammered in my throat for some reason. “I wish I could have brought you a proper meal.”
“Thanks for the water,” I said quietly, ducking my head. “And the song.”
He lifted my chin with his hand, and a strange, icy cold wash of sensation flowed through me, like his hand was a cold mountain stream. His dark eyes flashed. “I will sing for you every night, my love.”
What. The Fuck. Is happening?
Had I turned into some sort of sex goddess? I wrenched away from his gentle grip and ran my eyes down my body. Disgusting filthy bare feet?
Check.
Boy’s clothes, baggy as hell, and dirtier than the storm drain had been?
Check.
Ratty hair that still smelled like a latrine, a creek, a fight, and a sewer?
Check.
Skin covered with the remains of garbage and who knew what else?
Check.
“What the hell is going on here?” I muttered. “How am I suddenly catnip for shifters?”
Patrick leaned in next to me, pulling me away from Joaquin with a look. “You’re literally the most badass woman I’ve ever met, except for my mom.” He chewed his lip. “In fact, you’re a lot like her. Smaller, though. A lot smellier.” I punched him in the arm. “Don’t worry, short stuff. I’m not going to declare you as my mate.” He gave me a quick hug, braving the stench apparently. “My big brother would probably beat me to it, anyway.”
