Page 46 of Brock’s Mate

For the rest of the afternoon, Desi couldn’t get Brock to talk to her, or even come near her.

She felt sick and shaken. She knew what she’d done—she’d gone into the memories Brock kept locked away in his mind. Just like the ones she had herself—the ones no one was allowed to see or know about.

The ones she never talked about.

It was a huge violation, even if she hadn’t meant to do it. And she didn’t know how to say she was sorry.

She tried to keep herself busy by finishing her kintsugi, but she couldn’t concentrate. She tidied up her room and moved DB’s box to the basement, since he hadn’t had the chance. She caught a tantalizing glimpse of notes about spells and magic and building some kind of magical fortress, but she steadfastly refused to look.

She’d invaded one person’s privacy today. That should be enough for anyone.

She found herself wanting to somehow make it up to Brock. Normally she left people to deal with their shit on their own, but this time she couldn’t seem to. He wasn’t getting over it—he was feeling worse as the day went on. Desi could feel his growing agitation like it was happening inside her.

His wolf had wanted her to see those memories, but now that Brock was so upset, the wolf was getting upset too.

Brock had spent most of the afternoon on the porch, sitting on the warped floorboards with his back against the wall, shirtless in the cold, a bottle of whiskey clutched tightly in his hand.

Not drinking.

She knew why. Because of her.

If she hadn’t been here, he would be drunk by now. But because he had to protect her—from Jered or the Council or anyone else who might come after her—he couldn’t allow himself that escape.

Even though she could feel how much he wanted it.

She watched him until the sun went down and the night grew dark and frosty. For dinner, she microwaved something out of the freezer for both of them, but when she offered Brock his share, he just snapped at her.

She waited until she couldn’t stand it anymore, and then reheated the food and took it out to him.

“Brock, you have to eat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Go the fuck away.”

She knelt down beside him and stuck the bowl under his nose. He flinched away, growling at her. Desi froze.

His head jerked up, and she could see his eyes were full wolf gold. He growled louder, a constant sound like a frightened, angry dog.

“Brock?”

He slammed the dish out of her hand, beef stew spattering across the porch floor. Then he reached his hand out and flattened it across her chest, just below her throat, pushing her slowly back against the wall.

He leaned in, the growl never ceasing. For a long minute, she didn’t know if he was going to bite her or kiss her. And she didn’t know which one she wanted.

He kissed her, long and hard, and then brought his mouth right up next to her ear.

His voice was low and harsh and not his own. “Run.”

Then his face changed and his hand slid off her chest, his nails gauging her painfully through her shirt. And he was a wolf.

Desi scrambled to her feet and ran inside the house, slamming the door behind her.

Not that that would keep the wolf out, if he wanted in. She could hear him growling outside the door.

This was not the friendly wolf she’d met that morning. This was like his evil twin. She leaned against the wall, shaking.