Chapter 16

Shawn isn't going to stop.

He screams my name over and over again, his voice hoarse, his lips cracked and bleeding. Finally, the door to the den opens with a creak.

I stand there, inside, a look on my face that is cold.

"Shawn, you've got the wrong she-wolf. Lets call it even. We're both settled now. Let it go."

His eyes are bloodshot and frantic and they rest upon her as he stumbles a little nearer to her. "Leah, no, listen! I know now that it was you who got me out and not Quinn." He holds up a tattered handkerchief, his fingers trembling.

"This belongs to you, doesn't it? The jasmine you stitched."

I feel my eyes flicker, but I manage to keep my voice even.

"Does that matter?"

"Come back with me!" he implores, half devastated.

"I'll unbind Quinn. You're the one I should have bound myself to!"

I shake my head.

"Shawn, what is done is done."

I turn to go, but he flies into a rage, pushing aside the guards and rushing within.

"Leah! You can't do this to me!"

He grasps my wrist.

"You are mine!"

"Shawn, you are not welcomed here." Jason's voice is cold from behind me.

Shawn sneers.

"Jason, I am after Leah. You keep out of it!"

Jason steps forward and seizes the wrist of Shawn with a grip that could crush bone. "She is my mate now. Keep this up and I won't be polite."

Shawn winces and releases me, but he is not done. He draws his sword and points it in the direction of Jason. "Then I will kill you!"

The sword flashes.

My heart stands still and without thinking I throw myself before Jason.

A sharp pain pierces my shoulder and the blood trickles down on my clothes.

"Leah!" Jason and Shawn yell simultaneously.

Jason catches me in his arms, his eyes blazing with a murderous rage.

Shawn stands frozen, his gaze upon the blood stained sword in his hands, as though in disbelief. "I— I didn't mean to—" he stammers.

Jason explodes with fury. He draws his sword and drives it into the abdomen of Shawn.

"Get out!" he roars.

Shawn groans and stumbles back, the blood oozing from between his fingers. Guards drag him away.

Jason rushes forward and gathers me in his arms and bears me within. His voice is low and trembling.

"Get the healer! Now!"

The wound is not so deep, but Jason stays by my bedside, has never gone away.

"Jason!" I murmur. My eyes are weak as I open them.

He takes my hand and his voice is hoarse. "I am here."

I see the tension in his jaw. "I am all right," I say in a soft voice. "Don't worry."

The darkness in his eyes increases. His thumb brushes softly over my hand. "Why did you step in?"

I hesitate, and then say faintly, "I didn't want to see you hurt."

His throat sculls, and he draws me nearer and nearer to him. "So did I."

I drift into sleep and he stays by my side, his gaze upon my pallid face, the brows drawn in a tight scowl.

His fingers linger above my cheek.

They tremble, and he sweeps my hair from my brow with a lightest possible touch, being careful not to awaken me.

After that day Jason seems to grow more quiet.

Aside from his military duties he spends most of his time in my courtyard, generally just watching from afar.

A few days afterward the wound has had time to close up enough

"Good." She flashes a faint smile. "I was wrong before, sister. You're big-hearted—forgive me?"

Her eyes glisten with crocodile tears. "I see you're happy now, with Jason doting on you. I'm relieved."

I shrug. "The past is past."

Her smile falters at my coolness, but she presses on, sweeter than ever.

"Sister, let's walk by the lake. I've got some things I need to say."

I hesitate, then nod.

The lake breeze is chilly, stirring our hair. Quinn links her arm with mine, overly familiar. "Isn't this water so clear?" she coos.

"What's your point?" I ask flatly.

She leans in, voice sharp. "What spell did you cast on Shawn to keep him hung up on you?"

I laugh softly, unbothered. "If you've got nothing real to say, I'm heading back."

"I'm pregnant!" she snaps. "And you're still trying to steal him?"

"Steal?" My voice is calm, unshaken. "I want him as far from me as possible."

A flicker of malice crosses her eyes. "Really? Then why keep stringing him along? If you were gone, would he finally forget you?"

Before I can answer, she gives me a violent push. I drop into the freezing lake; the cold closes over me, water rushes up my nose and cuts off my breath. I flail, desperate to reach the surface, while Quinn's spite-laden shout rings from the bank: ‘Why should you have the good life? Shawn belongs to me—every good thing should be mine!'

My eyes are blurred and my senses are leaving me, when a figure shoots down through the cerulean water, like an arrow, swimming through the waves. It is Jason. He brings me into his arms and swimming desperately, approaches the sandy shore. On the bank he wraps his cloak around me, holding me tight. His hands are tremulous and wild is his gaze of fear and panic, the voice hoarse. "Leah, Leah, awake!'' I move slightly in his warm arms, my eyes slowly opened. Seeing his look of terror I weakly move my fingers.

Relief surges through him—he feels it—but instead of loosening his grip he pulls me closer, as though I might still slip from his arms. Raising his head, he fixes Quinn with a stare sharp enough to cut; Quinn stands pale as death. His voice, edged with lethal calm, slices the silence: 'Touch her again and I will end you.'

Quinn's legs give out, collapsing under the weight of his murderous stare, speechless.