Free Furyous Ink by Saranna DeWylde

a shaky exhale. Damn it, she was not the delicate damsel in distress. She was Megaera Eumenides, Fury. “ I know you’re working the case but—”
    “I’m on my way, Meg. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
    Meg hung up the phone and suddenly didn’t know what to do with herself. She felt itchy and awkward, as if her own skin was suddenly a size too small. She paced back and forth the length of the shop until Marcus arrived.
    He came through the door, concern chiseled on his hard features, but he brought with him a sense of calm and safety. It was no surprise he was a good cop. He made people feel at ease, as if whatever burdens they carried would be a welcomed weight on his shoulders.
    Marcus cradled her against his broad chest, his strong arms around her. Even the scent of him calmed and steadied her. For the longest time it seemed all she did was breathe, focusing on the mechanics of the process. Inhale. Exhale.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    She was glad he hadn’t asked her if she was okay. She knew that sometimes people said that because they didn’t know what else to say, but fuck okay. Meg was so far from okay that if he’d asked that question, it would have been like blowing up a dam.
    Marcus didn’t speak as she recounted what happened, but his whole body tensed.
    “He said the bullets were blessed by Athena and they’d kill me.”
    “Could they?”
    “Probably.” She said that easily, as if the prospect of her own death didn’t matter. Meg had even said it hadn’t, but it did. Furies were notorious for wanting to experience everything, pushing every boundary. Meg had never wanted to see what was over the next ridge more than she did right now. So it mattered. Even though she’d lived centuries, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. And she wanted it with Marcus.
    “I’ll kill him.” Marcus’ voice was even and he was still calm, in control. It wasn’t a promise he’d made, but a fact.
    “You can’t. He’s part of Esme’s punishment.”
    “Meg…” he began, but seemed to have lost the words.
    “Her redemption, too.”
    “I don’t care. He’s threatened you twice and for whatever reason, you didn’t smite him. Or couldn’t.”
    “I’m going to die, Marcus. No matter what he does.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    She showed him the poison in her arm. It was all the more noticeable because it was on the arm with the half-sleeve of tatts and her unmarked skin was so pale.
    “This is my guilt.”
    “Galatea’s death wasn’t your fault.”
    “I know that here,” she said, pointing to her temple. “But I don’t feel it here.” Meg put her hand over her heart.
    “Remember what you told me about Esme? That you knew?” She nodded. “I know, too, Megaera. It’s not your fault. You bear no guilt.”
    His unwavering faith in her sparked a bright flame of hope.
    “I’m going to find who killed her. And you’re going to be fine, Meg. I promise you.” He kissed the top of her head.
    “I believe it when you say it.” She bit her lip and looked away from him, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I know you’re working as hard as you can on this case and I called you for this. He didn’t hurt me and—”
    “No. Meg, I’d have been angry if you hadn’t called me. This is what marked mates do.”
    “That scares the hell out of me, Marcus. I’ve never been dependent on anyone. Ever. I can’t do my job. I feel like I’m not a Fury anymore.”
    “You’re just sick. After I find this bastard, you’ll be back to yourself.”
    If he promised it, she’d believe it. “Do you swear?”
    He smiled down at her. “I swear.”
    “I hate how this feels,” she said, referring to her need for him.
    “Then I guess you should have kept your sharp little nails to yourself, Fury.”
    That comment pissed her off. Or maybe it was more that he seemed so unfazed about what the bonding had done to her life. To her . “Your role hasn’t changed. You’ve always been the