Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“No. But that might be a good idea for you,” I say. “I should look into bringing one to the chateau.”
She groans. “I regret saying that.”
That makes me laugh. She doesn’t regret the murder. But she regrets the notion of getting help. I can’t imagine a therapist who would be able to handle her, if I am to be honest. It would have to be someone capable of defending themselves, mentally, emotionally, and potentially physically.
“You’re putting more people at risk than just yourself, or me,” I tell her. “The villagers will defend themselves from what they think are wild animal attacks. You put the whole pack at risk of being shot if they are seen in their wolf forms. And then what? Then more rumors of wolves being shot and dead men being found. I won’t have you die because you’ve decided you are an avenger of the downtrodden. And I won’t have the pack becoming hunted on their own land. If you insist on sneaking out and murdering people, I will have no choice but to shackle you in the dungeon.”
She smiles. She tries to hide it, but it is there. I get to see her genuine smile so rarely, it is hard not to enjoy it, even though it comes from a rebellious place.
“That was a real threat, Beatrix. You will always be my mate, but you do not always have to be free if you cannot control your impulses.”
“The same way you controlled yours when you spent ten million on me and then dragged me out of the orphanage? Or the same way you controlled yours when you killed that man the other night?”
“That was different.”
“Why?”
“Because neither of those actions had any risk to my life or anyone else’s, Duplante’s aside and he forfeited his.”
She shakes her head. “No,” she says. “You’re just as bad as me, but you grew up wearing fancy suits and you think you’re better.”
We have reached an impasse that I can tell will not soon be bridged. I love my mate with all I am, but I cannot seem to get through to her. I need help. We need help.
“I am going to find us some kind of therapy,” I tell her. “But before that happens, I am going to whip you for what you did last night. I watched bullets fly over your head…”
“It was fun, wasn’t it.”
“No. It was not fun. It was dangerous,” I growl the words while secretly agreeing, yes, it was fun. It was fun in the way things that can never happen again are fun.
She smiles at me sweetly, almost innocently. I really feel that she did what she thought was right. But we almost died. And it was reckless, stupid, and it could have been handled in a sane way.
“I don’t even know where to begin disciplining you for almost getting us both shot,” I snort.
“Maybe don’t? Maybe I’ve learned my lesson?”
I walk around the desk, sit back against it, then lean forward and run my fingers under her chin. “Have you, Trixie? Have you learned anything? Did it frighten you when you heard those bullets?”
“No,” she says. “But it scared me when I saw you dropping back, trying to save me. That scared me a lot. I am sorry. Really. I never want you to be hurt. I don’t care what happens to me, but you are you, and you have a whole pack and…”
“Beatrix, you matter as much as I do! I feel for you as you feel for me, do you understand? If anything was ever to happen to you, I’d be ruined forever. My life would never be the same.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her face crumpling. “I just wanted… he was going to… I didn’t know you were there. I didn’t think you’d be in danger.”
I believe her. I stayed hidden. She did not know she was almost getting me killed. One way to look at this would be that I almost got the pair of us killed by letting her go into town. I should have stopped her when she started breaking the rules, not once she had already killed someone.
“In the future, when you hear something like that, you come to me. You let me handle it. I will ensure justice is done as it should be done. You have seen me do it, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “But I wanted to do it myself. I wanted him to… I wanted to be the one who made him feel like prey. I wanted his last moments to be knowing in his bones that he is not the one who decides what happens to others. I wanted revenge.”
I kiss the top of her head. Who am I to say that any of these impulses were wrong? We cannot have a village full of bits of people, but her reasoning is impeccable.