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Sharp, urgentpainflashes through his chest so intensely that for a split-second, he’s sure he’s been shot.
Then he realizes the agony comes from his bond.
“Adelaide!” He’s out the door and by her side in the blink of an eye.
She stands frozen by the exit to the lab, face so pale that for a moment he thinks she’s hemorrhaging. But when he checks her over, there are no signs of injury.
“Adelaide?”
She looks up at him, her gray eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” He wraps his arms around her and draws her into his chest, reacting on instinct alone in an effort to provide comfort.
She shudders against him and her soft lips quiver. Then her face twists, and she shoves against his torso in an attempt to break free of his hold. “No! No, no, no, let go of me!”
He sighs and wraps his arms tighter around her. “Shh, it’s okay. He’s gone. No one’s going to hurt you ever again. Just breathe.”
“No,” she sobs, and to his dismay, fat tears begin to roll down her cheeks. “I need to hurt. You have to hurt me.”
“What?”Her words startle him enough that his grip on her body slackens.
Instead of answering, his mate sinks to the floor by his feet and hides her face in her hands. Her whole body shakes.
“Adelaide.”He kneels and grips her wrists, forcing them away from her face. “Tell me what’s wrong.Now.”
She looks up at him through tears and snot, and the broken look in her eyes tightens his gut with the reminder of the beaten woman he found in Siberia.
“I’m sorry.” It’s barely a whisper, but it nearly sends him on his ass.
“You’re…sorry?”he repeats, not entirely sure he’s heard her right.
“You have to hurt me. Force me. Make it hurt.” She swallows thickly, but through the pain, steel blooms behind her glasses. “That’s the only way—make it hurt.”
She’s asking him to…? Frowning, he grips her wrists tighter. “I amnevergoing to do that. Why would you—?” And then it clicks.
Eyes wide, he takes in her shaking body and those tormented, gray eyes.
Regret. She… feelsregret.
He’s unprepared for the raw relief that spreads through his chest and body like a wildfire. Ignoring her flailing protests, he hauls her back into his arms and holds her so tight she can’t push away.
She’s capable ofremorse.
His monstrous mate has an ounce of humanity after all.
“Why are you laughing?” she sobs, the sound so broken it brings his soaring heart back to Earth with a thud. Was he laughing?
“I don’t know,” he whispers into her hair. She smells like tears and floral shampoo. And like him.
He holds her tight until her body softens in his grip, the fight draining from the willful female as her strength wanes. When she hangs limply against him, he shifts to lean against the door and pulls her onto his lap.
“Don’t,” she whispers.
“Don’t what?” He strokes a couple of fingers under her jaw and tips her head up to catch her swollen eyes.
“Don’t be gentle.”
He arches an eyebrow at her. “No? You want me to hurt you until the guilt goes away?”
