Page 124 of Gunnar

“And you killed the … the Russian.” I stare into space, remembering how Gunnar’s beast tore his throat out. And how his men left his dead body on the road. “Does this mean it’s over?”

He gives a deep nod. “It’s over, Alexandria.”

24

Gunnar

She puts her hands over her face.

She’s quiet for a long time. Then her shoulders start to shake.

“Come here.” I draw her into my arms.

At first, she holds herself away from me, like she doesn’t want me to see her like this, her body tight and resisting. But I keep my hand on her, steady, and after a moment she gives in, folding into me, her head dropping against my chest as the tension leaves her.

I press my mouth to her hair and hold her there.

“That’s it,” I murmur. “Let it out.”

After a moment, she pulls back.

Her gaze drops to her hands.

There’s dried blood all over them, darkening her nails. I wonder if she can smell the metallic tang.

“I need to wash my hands.”

I nod and follow her out of the room.

She goes straight to the sink and turns the faucet on hard, like she needs the noise as much as the water. Then she starts scrubbing, working at her fingers, her palms, the spaces between them.

“He went there to die,” she says.

She doesn’t look at me.

“Yeah.”

She keeps scrubbing.

Water runs pink, then clearer, then pink again as she goes back over the same places.

“Why?”

I sigh. “He thought it would settle it.”

“Settle what?”

“The debt,” I say. “What he started.”

She drags her nails across her skin, like she can get underneath it.

“So, he just walks in and lets them kill him?”

“He thought it was on him.”

Her brow furrows. “Shifters are different, huh?”

My gut tightens. “For better and worse,” I say.