Denali
I JERK awake at Nash's cry. He thrashes beside me like he's being electrocuted. In the few weeks since he moved in, I've noticed he twitches with flashbacks or bad dreams at night, but this time is severe. The last time I saw his body jump and convulse like when we were in our cell, as the guards took me away.
"Nash," I breathe, then speak louder. "Nash. It's okay. You're safe."
A scent hits me-cleaning fluid they used to scour the cinder-block walls, washing away the blood. Shifter blood.
"No," I whisper, chills running up and down my arms. This isn't a nightmare. Nash is back in that place, trapped in the memory.
Am I really smelling that place? How? It's like Nash's flashback seeps into me, too. Must be some kind of mate ability.
I shake Nash's bulging biceps, but I speak to the flashback. "No. You can't have him. He's mine."
With a choked sound, Nash's eyes fly open. "Denali?"
I throw my arms around him. "It's all right. I'm here. Come back to me, baby."
"Denali," he rasps, his hands running over my body. "Denali."
"It's okay," I whisper, holding him close. His huge body shakes and rage surges through me. I wish some of the people from Data-X survived the explosion so I can kill them all over again.
A sound breaks from his throat, not a whimper or sob, but something torn from his body. I hold him tighter. "I'm here, baby. It's me. Your mate. I'm not going to let you go."
"Let her go," he growls, eyes jerking beneath parted lids. He grabs my shoulders roughly and pushes me away. "No," he mumbles. "No. Don't touch her."
"What-"
"No!" Nash roars. He's still in the flashback. His arms fly wide and he catches my face with the back of his hand. I fly off the bed and hit the floor.
A warning snarl comes from my throat, my lioness clawing to the surface to fight, even though Nash isn't the enemy.
"Denali!" Nash bolts out of the bed and stares down at me. His eyes are focused now, hyper alert, and I watch as understanding dawns and horror swims over his face. The light from the little nightlight in the outlet backlights him, making him seem even larger and more dangerous, his clenched fists ready to pummel the enemy.
Except the enemy isn't here.
"Nash?" I stand, rubbing my throbbing cheekbone and approach him carefully, scenting the air. The antiseptic smell of the Data-X prison lab is gone, washed away in the clean night time breeze. "Are you with me?"
"Fuck." It's broken syllable. He falls to his knees. "Denali. Please say I didn't hit you."
I roll my lips together, trying to think of what to say.
He drops his head into his hands. "Oh God. I'm so fucking sorry. This is unforgivable. Unforgivable."
"You were having a flashback," I say. "What was it? Was it about me?"
He lifts his face and beams a haunted gaze at me. "They were going to rape you. I had to stop them. Instead I hurt you." His voice breaks.
I sense the static from his lion that I'd felt when he first showed up. The buzzing of a ticking time bomb. An animal about to go berserk.
"I'm okay, Nash. I'm a shifter. I'll heal soon." I want more than anything for him to pull me into his arms, or let me hold him, but he doesn't seem to want to touch me.
He gets up and stumbles back, toward the bedroom door. On the way, he shakes his head and grunts something.
A cold prickle of warning runs through me.
"What?" I make my way to his side until he repeats, "I can't do this."
I halt, dread rising in my throat. "Can't do what?"
"Be here. Be with you and Nolan. I'm too dangerous."
"You can't just leave. Your lion-"
"I'll live. Or I won't. Either way, it's not your problem anymore."
The bedclothes have fallen to the floor. I pick up the sheet and grip it hard. "It is my problem." I can't keep my voice level anymore. "It became my problem when you mate-marked me. When you put a cub in me."
"You think I don't know that?" he snarls. Before I know it he's in my face, teeth white and snapping close. "You think I don't live with the guilt of that every day? It's killing me, Denali." His hands grip my arms, shaking me. "But I can live with it. What I can't live with is knowing my lion hurt you." His grip loosens. "What if he hurts Nolan? I need to separate myself from you two, as much as it kills me."
"You wouldn't do that." My throbbing face and arms bely my conviction.
"I just did."
"You didn't mean to-you were in a flashback."
"I know. But I'm always in flashbacks. I don't know what I'm capable of. I walked into that lab a man and a shifter. I became... something else. They made me something else."
"You can get help," I say shakily. "You can try-"
"I am trying, goddammit. This," he indicates the spoiled bed, "was me trying. It's not going to work."
I swallow back the grief rising. Pressure builds behind my face, burns my eyes. Is he really walking out on us? "What do I tell Nolan, when he wakes up and you're not here?" If my voice sounds wobbly, it's for Nolan, not me.
"I don't know." Nash bows his head. He doesn't turn around. "Tell him... his father is dead."
Nausea rocks through me, thick and heavy.
"Then go." Pain makes my voice harsh. "Leave us. It's not like we weren't fine before. You're the one who chose to show up. I knew I shouldn't have let you in."
Nash shakes his head. "You're right. You shouldn't have." He turns and walks out.
My bludgeoned heart falls to the floor where he stood a moment before.