Chapter Eighty-Six: Carol's POV

Chapter Eighty-Six: Carol's POV
"Volkov," Maurice opened politely yet arrogantly, "What a coincidence. Saves Carol from having to coordinate the transfer through intermediaries."
"St. Claire, explain why my ward is at the territorial border, in your car, looking like she just crawled out of hell?" Simon asked lowly, containing anger.
Maurice's eyes narrowed slightly, he reached to lower the back window, just enough for us to see Grey's form slumped across the leather interior, blood still seeping from the silver bullet wounds in his shoulders, staining the expensive upholstery dark.
"Because your exiled elder decided to impersonate you. He drove Carol to a cliff, used your voice to tell her she should die, then prepared to push her over. I intervened before he could complete that objective, though I'm afraid the psychological damage is already done."
Simon's gaze finally pulled from Maurice, landing on me. Those golden eyes, the killing intent churning in them turned into something close to fear.
He was looking at the tears in my palms, my disheveled hair, and me wrapped in Maurice's jacket like armor.
"You shot him." Simon said. This was to Maurice, but his eyes never left me. "With silver bullets."
"Twice." Maurice's tone carried some satisfaction.
"Once to stop him from shifting, once to ensure he stayed down. The bullets are out, wounds treated. He won't die before you decide how to deal with him. You're welcome."
Maurice said this too casually, as if saving my life was just another item on his schedule, between grading papers and research projects.
This should have annoyed me. Instead, it made something in my chest twist painfully, because Maurice had followed me tonight despite having no obligation, had put himself between me and danger when he could have looked away, had violated protocols and risked political consequences to keep me alive.
Simon clearly didn't see it the same way. His fists clenched at his sides.
He was fighting himself—wanting to thank Maurice for saving me, yet hating owing a debt to a vampire, especially this vampire, especially now.
"I'll handle Grey." Simon finally spoke, each word forced out like spitting broken teeth. "And I'll deal with the consequences of whatever mess he's made. But St. Claire, if you ever touch Carol again, if you ever take her anywhere without my explicit permission, I will forget about peace treaties and territorial agreements and every other political consideration that's supposed to keep us from tearing each other apart. Do we understand each other?"
Maurice's smile was sharp enough to cut.
"Perfectly," he said, amusement in his voice, genuine pleasure at getting under Simon's skin so thoroughly.
"Though you might want to consider that Carol is twenty years old and perfectly capable of making her own decisions about whose car she gets into and whose help she accepts. Treating her like property you can grant or deny access to seems rather medieval, even for your species."
The tension ratcheted up another notch.
I could see Simon's control fraying at the edges, could practically hear the growl building in his throat.
"Stop."
Both men turned to look at me.
"Both of you, enough. Maurice, thank you for saving my life, thank you for bringing me here, thank you for everything. But you should go now, before things get worse. Simon, I need to get Grey secured and I need to sit down somewhere. Can we please just handle the logistics first? The territory issue can wait."
They stared at me for a long while.
These two apex predators, unaccustomed to being ordered around by anyone, let alone a human girl who couldn't even shift.
Then Maurice nodded.
That gesture carried both acquiescence and mockery. He turned to open his car door.
Grey's body was dead weight.
Simon dragged him from the back seat, movements far rougher than Maurice's earlier. Grey's head hit the door frame, that sound made me flinch, though I knew he couldn't feel it.
Simon hauled Grey out with that easy-looking strength, reminding me how much power was contained in that deceptively human frame.
He deposited Grey in his own back seat without ceremony, then turned back to where I still stood by Maurice's car.
"Carol." Simon spoke, this wasn't a request, more like a command.
An Alpha calling his pack member home. My body responded faster than my mind, feet already moving forward.
Just as I reached where Simon could touch me, Maurice spoke again.
"Next time you need anything, Carol, you know where I am. My door is always open, regardless of what others might say."
These words weren't just for me, but for Simon too.
Another small provocation, another gentle reminder that he didn't acknowledge Simon's authority over me, no matter how much the Alpha might wish it.
Maurice got back in his car, engine purring to life, headlights swept across us one last time before he drove away.
I stood alone at the territorial border in the deepening dusk, beside Simon, with an unconscious war criminal in the back seat.
Simon led me toward his car.
"Come on," he said in a low voice. "Let's get you home."
I nodded, followed him into the passenger seat. After the car started, city lights passed one by one outside the window, neither of us spoke again.
"Did he hurt you?" Simon finally asked. His voice was soft, as if afraid of the answer.
I knew what he feared—if I said "yes," what he might do.
I thought about lying. Telling him I was fine, everything was under control, I didn't need his anger or his protection.
But I was too tired.
Too tired to keep making up lies, too tired to keep pretending to be strong.
Tonight I almost died, and the only reason I was still standing was because a vampire followed me.
"Yes." I admitted. "He said terrible things, Simon. Things that sounded true because they came from your mouth, your voice, your face. He told me I was worthless, a burden, that if I just died it would be good for everyone, and even knowing it was Grey, even knowing you would never say those things, part of me couldn't help believing."
The car swerved slightly. I could feel his foot press harder on the accelerator, then quickly pull back, steadying the speed.
"I never would." His voice was terribly hoarse. "Carol, I never would. You have to believe me."
"I know." I did know, intellectually, logically. But emotions never worked on logic.
"I know you wouldn't say those things. But he did. I can't un-hear them. Now every time I look at you, I see him using your face to tell me I should die."
Simon made a broken sound. Alphas don't show weakness. Alphas should be strong enough to bear everyone's pain without buckling under the weight.
"I'm sorry." He said guiltily, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I should have been here. Protecting you is my responsibility, and I completely failed, failed so badly that a pack traitor could use my face to hurt you."
Sweetheart. Not Carol. That word landed on my chest, making my throat tighten.
Because between us there were too many things still unspoken.