Free Wandering Off the Path by Willa Edwards Page B

Hunter might have even hit her. Wolf’s stomach twisted at the thought. If he had, Wolf wasn’t sure what he would have done, but pulling his limbs from his body appeared a sound idea.
    He couldn’t deny he’d been as much to blame for the loss of her good name as Hunter was. He should have known better than to stake Abigail as his territory. She wasn’t his to claim. She never could be. She deserved far better than he.
    He turned to look at Abigail, out of some instinct he couldn’t identify. He needed to see her. Needed to know she was beside him. His nerves prickled. Something wasn’t right. Something in the room had changed.
    Beside him, Abigail bit down on her puffy lower lip. She stared up at him, her gaze watery with tears, slamming him in the chest and stealing his breath.
    What have I done? He’d taken her prospects from her, a future filled with happiness, in one arrogant gesture. One she clearly didn’t welcome. He should leave her, before he had any more time to destroy her life or deprive her of the future she really wanted. At the idea of tossing her aside, a need to protect her bloomed, strong and stiff, in his midsection, painful to push away. He couldn’t release her. Not today. Not any day.
    Quickly she turned and ran to the bedroom. A sad, muffled noise escaped her throat as she scampered away, piercing him like an arrow to the chest. Not bothering to shut the door behind her, Abigail dropped to the bed. Bracing her elbows on her knees, she smothered her face in her palms. Sobs racked her small shoulders, each shake like tiny stabs to the gut.
    Wolf followed her, not sure what to say or do, only aware of his need to comfort her in some way. Guilt ate at his stomach. A need to help her find a way to happiness, a course back to the path she intended to follow.
    He stared down at her, curled into a tight ball on the edge of the bed. An apology tickled the tip of his tongue, but the words wouldn’t form. It had been a long time since he’d apologised for anything, since he’d felt any need to be sorry for anything besides the events leading to his family’s death. He hadn’t cared for anyone else’s suffering, not since everything had been taken from him. Until today.
    “You didn’t have to send him away for me.” The floorboards creaked under his bare feet as he shifted his weight back and forth anxiously.
    Abigail looked up from her palms, her eyes glassy, dried tears coating her cheeks. Her golden eyelashes clumped in wet, sticky peaks. Using her thumbs, she brushed along the salty trails, removing the lingering drops.
    “I didn’t do it for you,” she squeaked out, meeting his eyes with a confused glare.
    Pushing herself from the bed, Abigail turned towards him. She charged towards him and instinct bounded inside him. She was trying to leave, but he couldn’t allow her to leave. Not this time. His heart beat out the steady satisfying throb of ‘ Mine! Mine! Mine!’ His chest tightened, his heart tender with the longing to possess all of her. Body, heart and soul.
    Wolf extended his hand, silently asking her to stay.
    Abigail’s legs slumped beneath her, responding to his unspoken order. He drew in a harsh breath to calm the rising need within him. She complied so easily, so sweetly, it almost overpowered his control. Her submission tantalised him to take further advantage of her. Images danced in his mind of how he’d love to use that submission, all the ways he’d drive her to release over and over, but he’d already exploited her too much.
    He clenched his fingers hard into his thigh, his nails biting deep into the leather and pinching the muscle beneath, attempting to distract himself with the little pain. But the sharp sting only reminded him of Abigail’s nails piercing his flesh, pulling him closer, pleading for more.
    Releasing his leg, Wolf clasped his hands behind his back to prevent himself from reaching for her. He’d already seized so much from her—he’d taken