blood-soaked dress had the events of the night rushing back to me. My hands pressed against my heart, feeling for the dagger I knew had been there.
“Hey, you’re awake.” Batch’s warm voice sedated my nerves. “How are you feeling?”
My eyes shifted to him. He was sitting in the recliner closest to me. His feet were propped up and he looked as though he’d just woken.
“Sore and tender.” I gently rubbed where I’d been stabbed with the palm of my hand. “Where’s Silas?”
“He and Violet went to go help Becky set Dylan up.”
“What do you mean?” I moved until I was sitting up all the way and my feet were touching the floor. The movement brought my attention straight to the dried blood crusting my dress to the skin of my chest. It felt disgusting.
“You know how things work—we can’t kill a human, no matter how much we want to.” Batch shifted to the edge of his seat. He clasped his hands in front of him and rested his elbows on his knees. I got the impression he wanted to reach out and touch me but wasn’t sure I would allow it.
“Yeah, I know.” I remembered how things worked. “So what is Silas planning?”
“Becky agreed to help. You know she’s a panther shifter, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” I nodded. “How is she going to help?”
“She’s going to pretend Dylan attacked her instead of you and that she cut him with a kitchen knife in self-defense.”
“But wouldn’t it seem more believable if it was me? I mean, I’m the one who’s been dating him.”
Batch stood and walked toward the kitchen. “Not necessarily. He could have been dating you both.”
“Was he?” My nostrils flared at the thought. I’d never been two-timed before, and the thought didn’t sit well with me.
“No. Doesn’t mean we can’t make people believe he was, though.” He came back into the living room with a tall glass of water and held it out to me. “I’m sure you’re thirsty.”
“Thanks.” I took the glass from him.
“So what happened?” He moved to sit on the couch beside me, brushing his knee against mine in the process. The contact had every cell in my body jolting to life.
It took me a minute to piece together memories from my night so I could create a clear story of what happened between Dylan and me. After another sip of water, I shifted so I was facing Batch on the couch before I began.
“I don’t know how I missed it, but Dylan was actually nuts.” I pushed a few stray hairs away from my face. “He knew what I am, and he knows about this town. He said he’s been disposing of shifters for a while and that I would have been lucky number thirteen.” My words came out surprisingly calm, but I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.
Batch reached over and took my glass. He set it on the coffee table before pulling me against his solid chest. His strong arms wrapped around me and his fingers smoothed through my hair. “See, he was crazy. I’m sure people know that about him. The story of him attacking Becky will be believed. He’ll be locked away where he belongs. Where he can never touch you again.” I could feel his muscles stiffen at the sound of his own words. “Because if he ever does, fuck all the rules, I’ll kill him.” His words came out on a low growl that immediately turned me on.
The thought of a man fighting for me was hot, especially this man.
“I have no doubts.”
“I hope so, because I mean it.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek. My breath hitched at the emotions swirling through his eyes. “I thought I lost you, Scarlet. I never want to feel that again for as long as I live.”
I swallowed hard, his agony-filled words catching me off guard.
Batch drew in a breath. “I love you, I always have. I’m done trying to deny it. I’m done trying to make it something it isn’t. And I’m done trying to run away from it. I can’t anymore.”
I hadn’t been expecting to hear those words. Ever. Emotion caught in my throat, making it hard