Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
I consider that, staring down at Wolf’s strong, slender, talented fingers. It would be a damn shame.
“I don’t want to play.” Wolf seethes.
“Shut up.” Kody grabs Wolf by the collar and wrenches him back so violently I lose my grip on his hand.
Wolf careens across the floor and lands with a thud. Frankie yelps, and I see red.
While I appreciate the boys standing up for one another, rebellion of this magnitude won’t be tolerated. Someone will bleed tonight. It’s as simple as that.
My temper flexes inside me, unraveling.
Until Kody slams a hand down on the table and meets my eyes.
Not his dominant hand.
He can operate the crossbow one-handed, but it affects his accuracy. Loading the crossbow, however, requires both hands.
“No!” Frankie lunges, screaming, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
This time, Leo catches her by the neck and squeezes her throat.
“I told you what would happen,” he growls in her ear and roughly pins her back to his chest. His fingers press against her jaw, forcing her head where he wants it. “Watch.”
“No! You didn’t say anything about this.” She thrashes and wheezes in his grip. “Stop him.”
“I told you there would be consequences.” Kody’s tone is quiet, his eyes tracking the knife in my hand, waiting.
On the floor, Wolf hugs his knees to his chest and stares at nothing. The lights are on, but no one’s home. He’s checked out for now, but he’ll bounce back. He usually does.
I meet Kody’s gaze. There’s anger there. Dark, chaotic fury. But he keeps it leashed for Wolf.
Should I proceed? Kody’s our best hunter. Maiming him would maim our entire family.
But where there is strife, there is opportunity.
My brain spins, projecting, analyzing, and weighing every possible outcome.
Yes. This is a favorable option.
With a steady grip, I sink the fillet knife into Kody’s broad hand. Inch by inch, I keep the motion careful and straight, savoring the deep lines that crack his stony face. Pushing through skin and thick muscle, I don’t stop until the blade bites into the wood beneath his palm.
The pain he tries so hard to hide seeps out from under his lashes. Intoxicating pain. It courses through me, warming me, overtaking my entire being.
“Shh.” I bend in, my fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt as I melt into his soft, quivering breaths. It’s a rarity to hear such agonized sounds coming from my strongest son.
My favorite son.
What a magnificent man. So impressive in size and beauty. He’s exceeded all my expectations.
Sweat beads along his hairline, and a damp black curl falls over his forehead.
I reach up to brush it back. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t.” His free hand snaps out and knocks away my touch.
So standoffish. He’s always despised affection.
I’m hoping Frankie will change that.
I look up and find her tearful eyes.
Touching.
She may not want to be here, but she doesn’t like to see my boys harmed. No question, this little demonstration has killed any love she might’ve developed for me. But it’s not her love I’m after.
“Let me help him.” She taps Leo’s fingers around her neck, calmer now. “I need to treat the wound.”
Horror still stains her features, but she efficiently pushes down all other messy emotions. I suppose that’s the conditioning from her years in the emergency room.
Lucky for her. Because I’m not in the mood for her tears.
“Clean up the mess.” I nod at the table.
“Okay, but let me look at his—”
“The mess first.”
“He’s losing too much blood.”
“You’re wasting time.” Leo turns her toward the table, giving her a hard push. “Hurry.”
She looks over the clutter of platters, blueberries, and bones, shaking her head as if she doesn’t know where to start.
“The bones go back into the bag.” Leo’s hands flex at his sides. “The rest goes into the compost outside. Bins to carry it all are in the pantry.”
He steals a glance at Kody and shifts his weight, his legs jittery and restless. I can tell he wants to clean it up himself and speed this along for his brother’s sake. But he won’t. That would only be more disastrous for Kody.
As she jumps into action, following his instructions, I stroke a palm down Kody’s back while keeping a grip on the knife. The tenderness makes him breathe harder, his entire body going tauter.
I love him too much to make this needlessly worse for him. So I pull my touch away.
“Food is a precious commodity.” I watch her scrape all my hard work into a bin. “There’s only so much to go around. Thanks to you, no one will eat tonight.”
Her breath hitches, and her shoulders climb to her ears as she quickens her efforts to clear the table.
She loads the dishwasher, races the bin of food out to the compost pile, and scrubs the table—everywhere except the blood leaking around Kody’s hand.
“Where do I go with…” She lifts the bag of bones, her voice thick with sorrow. “This?”