Chapter Seventeen

The warehouse was dirty and loud. Scattered spots of harsh light gave way to near darkness, where people crowded together, yelling over the noise or quietly trading money for things Ashley didn't want to know about.

She stared at the chain-link fencing instead. Yards of it in the middle of the open space, boxing in half a dozen tattered mats laid out over the bare concrete. Blake stood in the brightly lit center of the makeshift cage, his chest and feet bare, slicked with sweat and blood.

Fighting was too tame a word for what he was doing. As she watched, he took a brutal blow to his midsection and barely flinched. His fist crashed into the other man's face, whipping his head around. Blood splattered, and the screams increased.

The whole spectacle was pain made flesh. Not physical pain, fleeting and easily healed—for a werewolf, at least—but something deeper. It coursed off Blake in waves that hit Ashley square in the gut, twisting and tightening until it left her sick and dizzy.

She closed her eyes, and Lucas steadied her with one hand on her elbow. "How long have they been at it?"

"Too fucking long," Ivan snarled from behind them. "Lucas, get your boy in line before people start asking questions."

"Maybe you shouldn't have let him fight like this," Ashley said shortly before making her way toward the ring. She didn't know what she could do to stop the fight, but logic wasn't what moved her feet. She had to get closer, be closer.

Blake.

He took another hit, and a third, shaking them off as if the pain was nothing—or even welcome. From here, she could see why Ivan was worried. Both men had blood over healed skin, their abrasions and cuts knitting together as fast as new ones could be dealt out. Only the bite mark on Blake's shoulder stayed fresh and raw, though it didn't slow him down.

Even through her horror, it was impossible not to appreciate the sheer strength and grace of his movements. He only suffered the other man's blows because he wanted them, and he returned them with animal instinct and efficiency.

No wonder Ivan had refused to send him into the ring with a human.

Another solid punch spun him around. He started to correct and froze when his gaze locked with hers.

A fraction of a second stretched out into forever. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. Then the moment ended as his opponent jumped on his hesitation and rammed him against the chain-link fence.

The onlookers screamed, as if sensing the end of the fight in Blake's misstep. Bodies crowded around her, jostling her as they cheered and waved their arms.

Blake whipped around and laid the other wolf out with one blow.

The crowd roared and surged toward the ring. Ashley tried to fight her way through the mass of bodies, but there was too much pushing and shoving.

Then Blake was there, right in front of her, gripping her shoulders with barely restrained anger. "You shouldn't be here," he growled, already edging her back through the tangle of people, most of whom scrambled out of the way after one glimpse of the fury in his expression. "I'm going to kill Lucas."

"He brought me because I asked. Because I—" Her voice broke. "You left."

"We can talk about it after we get you somewhere safe. Somewhere away—"

"Blake!" Ivan waved at them.

Blake responded by dragging her against his body with a pressure that almost hurt.

Lucas appeared beside them and shoved a rumpled brown envelope at Blake. "Your winnings." Then he jerked his head toward an unlit exit sign on the wall. "Side door. Come on."

Blake herded her through the exit. As soon as they were out in the empty side lot, he whirled on Lucas. "What the fuck were you thinking? Anyone could have been in there."

"You were in there," Lucas shot back irritably. "Kinda the whole fucking point."

"So was Ivan. So was Dex, for fuck's sake."

Ashley stepped between them. "Can you both stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

Blake clenched his fists and looked away. "Why are you?"

Her anger flared again. "Oh, was I supposed to let you decide everything for me? Just sit at home like a good girl, waiting for you to come back? Sorry, Blake, but that's not who I am."

He flinched. "I know exactly who you are."

The sadness in the words stabbed at her. "Then you should have known I'd come after you."

"I thought—"

He cut off, but his tortured gaze darted to Lucas, revealing exactly what he thought. That once he was gone, Lucas could slide easily into the place Blake didn't have a right to claim.

Her anger turned to ice in her veins. It didn't matter what she said or did if Blake felt like he wasn't good enough, like he was always a half-second from losing her. All that mattered was that doubt. She couldn't argue with it, couldn't fight it. And she couldn't deny it because it was predicated on what could be, not what was.

Blake spun around and slammed his hand against the brick wall so hard that bits of mortar crumbled. "You don't get it," he ground out. "How hard it is to know I might have to let you go. You can't let me cross that line, Ashley. You can't, or I won't let you go."

She couldn't speak—not that there was anything to say. Nothing as simple as a reassurance could penetrate this haze of hurt and confusion, of longing and fear.

Lucas stepped into the silence. "It's late. Where are you staying, Blake?"

He shrugged without turning. "Haven't gotten a place yet."

"I'll take care of it." The alpha dragged his keys out of his pocket. "Grab your stuff. I'll drive."