Chapter 5
Bishop’s control was razor fucking thin. Inside, his beasts were shredding him for treating their Angel this way. He tried to convince himself that nothing he did to her now could ever compare to what he’d already done. Shame still burned so hotly inside of him that he swore he could feel his blood boiling. Outside, he was a mask of stone. Jenny would never know how much it gutted him that he’d hurt her. She’d never know how much he agonized now over making her bleed by tying her with the ropes. She’d also never know that he wanted more than anything to release her and see where things went from there. It couldn’t be done. Right now, he needed answers to some very serious questions, and his mate was a bonafide flight risk, which meant she’d stay bound until he got what he needed. He knew it was torturous. Skin Walkers couldn’t shift while they were handcuffed or tied up because it’d break their limbs. He’d heard others talk about how Indigenous Walkers could perform the feat without injury, but he’d never seen it, and Jenny wasn’t an indigenous walker, so it didn’t matter.
“Bishop, don’t!”
The panic in Jenny’s voice almost had him throwing the towel against the wall. Almost. He needed this. He needed her with a lack of control, and under his so she’d know what she’d done to him. Her body tensed and he knew she was considering fighting him. Mind made up though, he lifted his eyes to hers. “If you run now, there’ll be no saving this, Doc.”
It was a terrifying thing to say because honestly, he wasn’t convinced that she was even interested in being his. It’d certainly explain why she’d hidden all of this from him.
Jenny held his gaze, and he watched the slender column of her throat convulse as she swallowed. Every beast inside of him tensed as they awaited her response, even knowing how much she hated this. She was a notorious control freak. Too bad!
When Jenny didn’t offer any response, Bishop grabbed the rope and looped it once over the towel now covering the bandages on her wrists.
She didn’t fight him. Her body went lax, and a reluctant sigh escaped her as she let him tie her up.
“Please! Why are you doing this?”
There were tears in his Angel’s voice now. They were a weapon she had yet to use on him, and he had to work quickly because even as pissed as he was, her tears would be his undoing.
In seconds, the rope was secured and knotted. He could feel Jenny’s imploring gaze on him, and he avoided it.
“Bishop, I said I was sorry. I screwed up!”
Abruptly, he stood and turned for the door. He was to it in two long strides, but it wasn’t fast enough.
“Please!” she begged. “Please forgive me and let’s move on. We can move on from this. Give it a chance. Give us a chance.”
Us. Her words rocked him with a jumble of mixed emotions. He didn’t know if she wanted them to work or not. Her actions certainly spoke to the latter.
Stopping at the door, he shot her a lethal look over his shoulder. “Like you gave us a chance?” He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t need one. Like he’d said, her actions spoke volumes. She’d tried to break what bound them, and while it stung like a motherfucker, it was also eye-opening. All her effort to sever their bond had him itching to find out two things. One, why, and two, he needed to see if their bond could, in fact, be severed because he had no intentions of claiming a woman who clearly didn’t want to be his.
He double-timed it down the stairs and then out the front door, slamming it behind him. The second his booted foot was off the porch, he shifted into mountain lion form. In the space of two strides, he was in a full-on run and hurtling through the forest at a breakneck pace. His animals needed to be away from the scent of Jenny’s blood, and the man needed to be away from the knowledge that he’d caused it.
As his padded paws pounded across the spongy wet soil, his heart clenched painfully.
She doesn’t want me. I’m not good enough, so my Angel doesn’t want me. It was humiliating and painful. Worse, it had him second guessing himself. Was he substandard? He was a good Sentry, strong. He knew that. But, what was it about him that had put Jenny off so much that she’d gone to such great lengths to find a cure for their affliction? His mind reeled as he thought of all his shortcomings. There were many, but nothing that he assumed would ever cost him the most important thing to a Walker.
Angel. He rolled the word around in his head. It made sense now because even though Jenny’s actions were devilish, she was still the most angelic looking thing he’d ever seen. Hell, she even smelled like heaven. Even now her scent clung to him and had him inadvertently leaning down to brush his nose against his shoulder where her head had rested earlier. She smelled like Montana October nights, all night cloaked bewitching beauties, crisp autumn leaves, and the sweetest of treats. His balls drew up tight causing him to stumble. He slowed to a walk and finally had to stop. He sniffed at his shoulder again.
Fuck! He wanted her so damn bad that it actually stole his breath. Stole. His. Fucking. Breath! Worse, it made him hate himself with a loathing so sharp and fierce that he was nearly overcome with humiliation. She’d done this. She’d turned him into this fucking being that couldn’t control himself. She’d made him take her like some sick twisted animal that had no conscience.
His lips peeled back in a feral hiss as he berated himself for trying to pin his actions on Jenny. Sure, she knew what was happening to him and hid it from him. Still, no argument he made could justify how she could have forced his actions.
I’m a Skin Walker, damn it!
The Grandfathers had gifted him with rare and sacred abilities. Abilities he currently felt ashamed to possess. He couldn’t even control his manly needs, so how in the fuck was he supposed to feel worthy of being a shifter?
Shifting into human form deep in the forest, he didn’t bother regenerating clothing. Tilting his head back, he let the cold wind lash his overheated flesh as he pinched his eyes and swayed in rhythm with the mighty pines surrounding him.
Not your fault, not your fault, he chanted in his head trying to convince himself that he was still a good man.
Lowering his head, he turned and faced back toward the cabin, regenerating his clothing in the space of one blink. A good man, he snorted incredulously. Right now, his mate was bound and bleeding in a cabin. He’d kidnapped her and then dumped her off. He shuddered with the knowledge that he should go and untie her. The problem was, he was afraid to right now. He didn’t trust himself around her, and after what had already happened, it was for a good reason.
No wonder she didn’t want him. He was a fucking monster.