Gideon’s warning shot sounded and lit the night sky like the fourth of July.
Throwing Cat to the floor, Judd covered her slight body with his own, remembering Gideon’s warning clearly. If Cat received so much as a scratch, then he’d take it out of Judd’s hide.
Judd would have preferred she receive the scratch than the disillusionment this kid had coming when she saw who was rescuing them.
? ? ?
G.
He’d really escaped. He’d run away from her, and now, he was dying.
“He’s lost too much blood, Judd.” She was frantically trying to stem the flow from his chest and as he stared up at her, even the whites of his eyes turned that eerie jade-flecked amber. “We have to transfuse . . .”
“No . . .” The snarl in G’s voice was a horrible sound.
She stared down at him in shock. He’d never been a reasonable Breed, but this was crazy.
Lifting her gaze to the Breed across from her, she begged him silently to ignore the command of the Breed they’d both freely accepted as their alpha years before.
“If he dies, I’ll never forgive you,” she sobbed as Judd dropped his head, ignoring her imploring gaze. “Do you hear me, Judd? I’ll never forgive you.”
“I’ll kill you.” G wheezed, the warmth of his blood still easing over her hands.
“Don’t do this, Gideon.” Judd stared back at him now, his jade green eyes flashing with an inner flame Cat had never seen there before. “Please don’t make it like this.”
“You know it can’t happen.” G coughed.
“G, please. You can’t leave me alone,” she begged him desperately, her tears mixing with his blood as she tried to make him understand. “You lied to me, G. You left me once. Don’t leave me like this. I can’t live if you leave me like this.”
The sobs were jerking through her body, shuddering through her as she made him look at her. She had to make him understand.
“They’ll come after us. How can we fight without you? Please, G. I don’t want to fight without you.”
“My little cat.” His voice was so weak it terrified her as his hand trembled, reaching up to touch the tears falling down her face. “You live, Cat. For me. You promised me.”
She’d sworn to him she’d live. Sworn she would never give up on living.
“It doesn’t count if you leave me,” she screamed down at him. “It doesn’t count, G.”
“It counts . . .” An enraged snarl tore from his throat as he felt the pressure syringe Judd stuck to his neck. “No . . . you bastard!” G cursed him. His gaze turned to her, pure green fury lighting the depths. “I’ll kill him, Cat. Do this and I’ll kill him. I’ll kill both of you.”
She eased back, watching as his arm fell helplessly to the ground beside him.
Moving quickly to her feet, she rushed to the other side where Judd was laying out a small pallet of blankets from the supplies G had brought. A medical pack sat beside G’s prone body, the transfusion supplies ready.
“No,” G demanded again. “There’s no serum, Judd. You know what that means.”
She had no idea what the serum was and she didn’t care. She knew her blood would help him heal, that was all that mattered.
“I told you, Foster was wrong,” Judd was arguing as Cat lay down next to G and turned her arm up for the other Breed to apply the transfusion syringe into her vein. “Dammit Gideon.”
“Cat.” The growl had her turning her gaze to him, staring back at him and realizing far more than he knew. “Do this, Cat, and you’ll die . . .” he snarled.
“I love you, G,” she whispered. More than anything she loved G, she couldn’t let him leave her forever, no matter how much he might hate her for it.
Staring back at him she felt the first-ever flash of fear for the Bengal she claimed as her G. Green fire filled his eyes, covering the amber, obliterating the black pupils and the whites of his eyes. It was terrifying.
“I never loved you,” he sneered back at her as she felt the most agonizing pain of her life strike at her heart. “Why do you think I rescued you? You were an experiment. My experiment. That was all . . .”
“God, Gideon, shut the fuck up,” Judd snarled.
Before Cat realized what he intended to do he’d given G more of the paralytic, effectively ensuring his alpha couldn’t curse the smallest of their pack any further.
But it was too late, the words were already said, the damage was already done.
“I still love you anyway,” she whispered, hurting so bad that the pain blocked her tears.
Turning from him, Cat stared up at the starry sky and forced herself away from there. Judd had told her how he forced himself from the horror of the labs, freeing his mind while his body was still trapped. Cat forced her mind back to better memories. Back to the sound of G’s voice, gentle and tender when she hurt, easing her from that horrible pit she always felt awaiting her.
She forced herself back to the security and protection she’d felt when he was there. When she’d believed she belonged to someone.