“Yeah, a Blackwing Dragon named Kane said the same thing.”
“Chhh.” Wyatt shook his head and busied himself with righting a couple of chairs that had been toppled near the splintered kitchen table. “Kane is no one you have to worry about.”
“Really? Because he seemed real put-off that I’m a Bloodrunner.”
“He’s put off by all dragons. Did he send you?”
“He told me where you live, yes.”
Wyatt winced. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
“You’d rather bleed out for some vampire’s entertainment than see me again?” She tried to sound strong, but the bitterness crept into her tone. “Why are you here, Wyatt?”
“What do you mean? I live here.”
“Not here in this house. Why are you across the entire damned country from Damon’s mountains? Why don’t you have a crew under you? Why are you some coven’s chew toy?”
“I told you I wasn’t ready for you to see me yet!”
“Well now I can’t leave!”
“You can and you will.”
Harper blinked back the burning sensation in her eyes. “And leave you alone and vulnerable to a coven?”
“It was my choice, and I’m not alone. I have Kane.”
“And where the fuck is he tonight? Huh, Wyatt? Where’s your friend?”
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“You have a fucking dragon here, and yet I come here and see you out in the rain, on your hands and knees—”
“I told you I wasn’t ready for—”
“Bleeding from your neck where you allowed that woman at your throat. That’s what this is, right?” Harper picked up a wad of cash off the table and chucked it at him.
“I told you I wasn’t—”
“If you fucking say that again, I’ll torch you. Ten years. You’ve had ten years, and all that time you denied me closure—”
“I don’t want closure—”
“You took choice away from me, Wyatt. My shot at a treasure to satisfy my dragon? My shot at happiness? You stole that from me! Then you left me in Saratoga to pick up the pieces alone, and now you can’t even give me a fucking ‘thank you for saving my life just now’?”
“Because I’m not okay!” he roared. “My choice was taken, too! At least you had the Ashe Crew. At least you had the Gray Backs and the Boarlanders and your grandfather. At least you had friends. November was my fault, Harper. You were the victim, and I was the villain, and that month set the tone for my whole fucking life.” His voice dipped to a raspy whisper. “I’m the villain.”
She felt slapped. “Don’t you dare take November for yourself. Half of that burden is mine.”
Wyatt slammed the last chair onto its legs and hooked his hands on his hips. He shook his head, eyes locked on hers. She thought he was looking at her with disgust until he swayed on his feet and stumbled back a few steps, then propped himself against the countertop. His neck really did look shredded, not just from the fresh cuts, but from layers of scarring.
“Wyatt, what did you get yourself into?” she asked.
He shook in earnest now and looked like he might retch again, but his lips stayed sealed. Typical. He’d been stubborn as a boy, too. “You know that saying? That one about the road to hell being paved in good intentions?”
“What was your intention?”
He winced and avoided her gaze. “To save you.”
Chapter Four
“I’m not some damsel in distress, Wyatt. I’m the damn dragon. Save me how?” Harper asked.
Wyatt couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t watch the moisture that had rimmed her eyes fall down her cheek. Couldn’t accept the fact that here he was, hurting her again. He wasn’t fucking ready. He was supposed to have his shit together when he saw her for the first time after so long. He was supposed to be a territory owner, away from the shadow of the coven, and maybe even recruiting for a crew member or two. But this? She’d come in at the moment he was hitting rock bottom.
“Save me how?” she repeated louder.
God, she was beautiful. He’d always known she would grow up a stunner, but Harper was an angel. Long, wavy dark hair that shone like silk in the light of his small home. Her lips were downturned and heartbroken, but even pursed in disappointment, they were full and drinkable. He’d imagined her taste a million times since he’d left Saratoga. And now she was here, smelling like anger and dragon’s fire, her damp clothes clinging to her skin, her eyes exactly how he remembered. Wide and honest, so direct, bracketed by dark lashes. One soft brown iris and one that belonged to her dragon. Blue, with the reptilian pupil that said Harper was at the top of the food chain.
The way she’d gone after that coven tonight was a thing of beauty. She’d always been too loyal for her own good.
“Is this you shutting down again?” Harper asked in a defeated tone.
“I was trying to cut ties with the coven tonight.” She should at least know he was trying to dig himself out of his personal hell-hole.
“Is that woman your…yours?”
Wyatt really was going to be sick if she didn’t stop talking like that. “Arabella belongs to no one.”
“And you?”
Wyatt wished he didn’t have to answer. Wished he could disappear into a cloud of smoke like those asshole vamps, but Harper was looking at him, and he knew her. She wouldn’t let him get away with pleading the fifth. Not anymore. “Before tonight, I was her consort.”