Page 40 of Moonlight & Mayhem

“I am sitting,” he said, pointing to the chair underneath his ass.

“Okay, then stop laughing,” she said.

“That’s a new order,” he said. “A doctor telling her patient not to be happy.”

“I’m serious,” she said. He looked at her. She looked tired—not physically, but soul-tired.

Mayhem reached out and brushed his thumb beneath her eye. “You need sleep.”

“So do you,” she said.

“Then come lie down with me,” he offered. Moon’s eyes narrowed, and he exhaled loudly. “For medical purposes.”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re terrible.”

“Still got you thinking about climbing into bed with me,” he said. She started to pull away, and Mayhem caught her hand. “Moonlight.” She stopped, and his humor faded. “If this thing gets worse⁠—”

“No,” she breathed. “It won’t get worse.”

“Listen,” he ordered.

“I’m not listening to you talk about dying,” she spat.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Mayhem insisted.

She stared at him, waiting for him to finish. “If I lose control.” Her expression changed, and Mayhem covered her mouth with his hand. “If whatever they put in me takes over my wolf, you get away from me.” She shook her head, and he slowly removed his hand from her mouth. “Moonlight.”

“No,” she breathed.

“You saw what happened earlier,” he reminded.

“And I stopped it,” she said.

“Because you were close to me,” he said. “What happens if next time your touch doesn’t work?”

Her jaw tightened. “Then I find something else that will work.”

“I could hurt you,” he said.

“You won’t,” she insisted.

“You don’t know that.”

Moon stepped closer. “Yes, I do.”

Mayhem stared at her. “How?”

Her hand settled against his chest, and his wolf relaxed instantly. “Because I trust your wolf.” Something inside him cracked open. Mayhem had expected her to trust him eventually—maybe. But his wolf—never. He had spent years fighting the animal for control when rage took over. His wolf was the part of him most people feared, but Moon trusted him.

His hand covered hers. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because it makes staying away from you really fucking hard,” he admitted.

Moon’s eyes softened. “Maybe I don’t want you to stay away from me, Mayhem.” His heart felt as though it stopped as the bond surged and heat moved between them. Mayhem leaned closer, slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, but Moon didn’t. His lips were inches from hers when a howl ripped through the night, and Mayhem froze. Moon’s head snapped toward the window. Another howl answered, followed by another. It wasn’t Dark Chaos or Silverfang.

Mayhem stood; his pain forgotten. “How many did you hear?” Moon whispered. He listened and counted five or more.