Chapter 361

“Whoa,” Ben says, holding his hands up at the door, his eyes going wide when he sees the vicious expressions on his friends’ faces. “Guys, calm down. Obviously, you know I’m not going to hurt her.”

With a concentrated effort, Rafe reels in his protective instinct and swallows. “I’m sorry,” he says through his teeth. “It is…difficult. She’s hurt, we’re –“

“No, I get it,” Ben says, nodding as he takes a single step into the room. Jesse too settles back, just a little, though his muscles still stay tensely wound, ready to pounce. “I um…I went to the Captain and told him you needed a phone? I didn’t tell him why – he wasn’t happy about it, but he handed it over.”

“What?” Jesse says, blinking, still trying to put all the pieces together.

“Thanks,” Rafe says, solid, holding out a hand. “Bring it here. Shut the door.”

“I thought you might want to…call your mom,” Ben murmurs for Jesse’s sake. “This seems beyond our capacities.” He puts the phone in Rafe’s hand and then slips his hands into his pockets.

“What do you mean?” Jesse asks, looking back down at Ariel, reaching out a hesitant hand and stroking it softly over her hair. Fear rushes through him again as Rafe dials the number and puts the phone to his ear, passing the first-aid kit to Jesse. Jesse frowns as he takes it, running his eyes over her blanketed form, wondering if there are more wounds than he’s seeing besides the one on her neck. “Is she hurt elsewhere?”

“No,” Ben says with a shrug. “I mean, I don’t think so. I just – I mean, do you know what to do? When a girl gets rejected by her mate?”

Jesse just stares at Ben, blank. Ben shrugs, glad he takes his point.

“Would you please clean up her neck?” Rafe snarls, glancing at Jesse as the phone connects and begins to ring.

Jesse jumps a little and then does as he’s told, getting out some gauze and saline solution and turning Ariel’s head to the side so that he can inspect the bite. He gently begins to pat at it, cleaning the blood away, his stomach sinking for his poor sweet cousin who tries so hard and has been through too much these past few days.

“Where’s Jackson?” Jesse murmurs, glancing up at Ben.

“Um,” Ben says, standing straight and grimacing as he runs his hand through his hair.

“What?” Jesse asks, going still with predatory focus. “Tell me.”

“He…kind of went after Luca?” Ben says, awkward. “And says he’s going to kill him?”

Jesse stays perfectly still for a long moment before he nods and looks back down at Ariel, continuing his work on the wound. “Good.”

“Good!?”

“Yeah, Ben,” Jesse snarls, not looking at him. “If you seriously think Luca is getting away with this with his head, let alone his balls –“

“Jesse!”

“I’m serious!” Jesse barks out, whipping his head up to glare at Ben. “This is fucking Ariel Sinclair! Not only is she the sweetest goddamn person on the earth, she’s our last hope in this whole fucking war! If Luca Grant put her out of commission, he’s to blame for everything that befalls Moon Valley! And even if he weren’t I’d rip him to shreds anyway –“

“Oh my god,” Ben groans, dropping his head into his hands, finally understanding the magnitude of this.

“Would you two shut up?” Rafe snarls, glaring at both of them. “They’re getting her – Mom!” He sits up straighter when the sweet voice sounds on the other line, worried. “Mom – um – we’re all alive, but we need you to get here. Right now.”

There’s a buzz of worry on the other end as Ella bursts out with questions.

“Ariel’s unconscious,” Rafe murmurs, trying to give her the details she needs. “Um – we’ll tell you when you get – okay! Fine!” He sighs, shaking his head. “Luca – he fucking rejected her.” He pauses. “What? Mom I don’t know –“

Ben and Jesse watch in rapt silence.

“Mom!” Rafe bites out, his voice squeaking. “Look, I think she’s going to be okay – she’s unconscious but she’s breathing fine, and her pulse is steady – can you just…” He sniffs hard, looking down at his little sister. “Can you just get here? Please? We’re out of our depth. She needs you.”

Rafe nods once and then hangs up the phone.

“What did she say?” Jesse whispers, breathless.

“She’s coming,” Rafe says, nodding once, not looking at either of them. “And, um. That we should try to feed her when she wakes up. Keep up her strength.”

“I’ve got peach rings,” Jesse says, immediately springing out of bed and heading for the secret stash in his dresser, desperately glad to have something to do.

“I’ll get the kitchen to send the strawberry ice cream she likes,” Ben murmurs, feeling utterly useless but thinking that it’s better than nothing. He strides for the dumbwaiter.

Rafe doesn’t follow. Instead, he just collects the gauze that Jesse dropped and continues dabbing at the wound on Ariel’s neck, doing his best to clean it for her.

“You just hang in there, baby trouble,” he whispers, leaning close. “We’ll take care of you. We’ve got you now.”

Ariel just lays perfectly still. Deep down, Rafe is glad that she’s not awake. Because when she does come around? God, but the reality of Luca’s rejection is just…

…going to destroy her.

Jackson snarls as Luca’s scent gets thicker in the air. He’s been running for an hour, chasing him. God, fuck but Grant’s fast. If he wasn’t, Jackson would have caught him long before now.

But Grant’s endurance has nothing on Jackson’s.

Jackson snarls and picks up speed, almost tasting that bastard’s blood on his tongue.

When Jackson breaks out of the woods he sees Grant, finally, across a field. Grant walks on two feet now, his steps dragging, his shoulders slumped, his head down. Jackson growls and sprints, closing the distance, his teeth bared.

Grant hears him coming – of course he does, Jackson is making no attempt at stealth. Luca spins, snarling, his hands already balled into fists, ready to take on the world. When Jackson is close enough to leap Grant screams his fury aloud into the air, a torrent of sound and misery and abjection. But doesn’t move, doesn’t even raise his hands to defend himself.

Almost like he thinks he deserves the fate flying towards him through the air. Welcomes it. Has been waiting for it.

At the last minute Jackson shifts in the air, his hand already clenched as he returns to his human body, his fist flying through the air and connecting solidly against Luca’s jaw the moment before his feet again meet the ground.

“You fucking bastard!” Jackson shouts, his voice rough with agony.

Luca’s whole head snaps hard to the side and he stumbles away, moaning and spitting blood.

Jackson’s chest heaves as he advances, raising his fist again. But Luca’s faster, as usual, and whips his hands up, hitting Jackson with a three-punch combination that has him stumbling back, blood spouting from his nose.

“Get the fuck away from me, you asshole!” Luca shouts, his words a little muffled by the pain in his jaw, but he brings his hands up in his fighter’s stance, ready to go again if Jackson approaches. “I fucking left – isn’t that enough!? You had to chase me down and rub it in!?”

“Rub it in!?” Jackson shouts, closing the distance between them and whipping his whole arm around to hit Luca hard in the shoulder. Luca blocks but still goes stumbling to the side under the sheer weight and force of Jackson’s body. They’re not boxing, after all – and they both know that Jackson has the advantage when there aren’t any rules. “You fucking marked her! You claimed her! My fucking mate!”

“Take her!” Luca screams, still stumbling, exhausted and trying to catch his balance. “That bitch is all yours –“

Jackson roars and steps close, smacking Luca hard in the face with the flat of his hand. “Don’t you dare –“

But Luca screams, all the grief and the fury taking hold of him as he hurls himself at Jackson, blood pouring from his nose as he gets in whatever blows and punches he can, giving Jackson everything he has with no attempt to block or shield. Just trying to kill, to main, to hurt as much as he’s been hurt.

Jackson’s had too much training for that, though. He takes a few hits, watching for his spot, and then shoves Luca hard when he gets a hand flat on his shoulder, sending him stumbling back a few steps. When there’s some space between the two, Jackson whips his foot up and kicks, hard, right in the center of Luca’s chest, sending him sprawling.

The wind rushes from Luca’s lungs as he hits the ground. He lays in the grass gasping, trying hard to draw breath.

Jackson stalks forward and kneels next to the prone man, a knee on his chest – not hard enough to crush, but heavy enough to be a warning that one move – one single wrong move and Luca’s ribcage will be crushed.

“You fucking. Marked. My mate.”

With a deepening snarl, Jackson leans in, trying to decide whether he should kill this man now? Or just let him suffer.