Page 143 of Poet & Protector

Logan’s hand jerked away from me as if he’d been burned.

He took one step back. Another.

I gripped the bed linens so I wouldn’t slump onto the floor. I knew I wasn’t safe yet, but at least I’d interrupted whatever had been about to happen.

Logan turned and strode across the room to the bar. He unstoppered one of the crystal decanters, poured himself a glass of amber liquid, and knocked it back in a single gulp. He immediately refilled his glass.

Slowly and carefully, I stood. As hard as it was, I knew that to stay on this course I had to go to Logan, to keep him talking. I crossed the room, each step like wading through quicksand. All I wanted to do was run, but I couldn’t.

When Logan sensed my approach, he selected another glass and filled it.

“Be honest.” He picked up both glasses and turned to face me. “When you were here before, did you truly like it?”

I nodded. That was honest, at least in the sense that I’d liked it much more than what happened today.

When he offered one of the glasses to me, I took it. My body still trembled with fear and I had to grip the glass with both hands so I wouldn’t drop it as I lifted it to my lips. Whisky burned in my throat. The warmth of alcohol washed through me, though it did little to settle my thrashing heartbeat.

Logan noticed my shaking hands and his expression became stricken. I watched genuine dismay etch itself across his features.

What the hell was that? His moods were a minefield. I would never know whether I was on safe ground.

“Would you like another?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

I shook my head. I didn’t understand any of this. He was acting like he cared about me, but he’d been about to…I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath through my nose to stave off a wave of nausea.

Nev was right.

Logan’s heart was sick and twisted, and he thought he was in love with me. He believed this nightmare was love and I was trapped inside it with him.

“I’m sorry, Mason.”

My eyelids snapped up. I hadn’t anticipated an apology. I stared at him, at a loss for how to respond.

He carefully pulled my glass from my trembling grasp and set it aside. “None of that should have happened. The wraith. The way I behaved…it’s not how I want to be with you. I was jealous and I lost my temper. Please forgive me.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

Finishing his second drink, he poured himself a third. “You’re not the one I want to hurt.”

NO.

I’d needed to redirect Logan when he was hellbent on assaulting me, but now he had Nev in his sights.

“Do whatever you want to me, Logan.” When I spoke it was breathless, desperate. “Anything. But forget about Nev.”

The hard scrape of anger came back into his voice. “Your investment in his well-being is hardly convincing me I should forget about him.”

Scrambling to salvage the situation, I said, “You should, because I’m going to.”

The first time Logan brought me here it was to play out some kind of bland dating scenario. If he wanted mundane, I’d give him mundane.

He frowned at me. “What?”

“Neither of us should be thinking about Neville,” I said, using his full name the way Logan did in an attempt to erase the intimacy of his nickname. “Don’t waste your energy on revenge when it isn’t necessary. It could draw the wrong kind of attention from the other Keepers.”

“Possibly,” Logan said. “But I won’t have you begging for him after he’s shown me such blatant disrespect. No Keeper would tolerate his behavior.”

“I want him safe,” I replied. I would never be able to lie convincingly about that. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t care about him, and I’d rather not see him hurt. But that’s as much because he’s my packmate as it is that we’ve kind of been involved.”