Malin’s hold on the weapons loosened, the reminder of protocol enough to deflate his aggressive posturing. Sort of. “This means war.”
“War?” Nayla spoke once more, her voice sharp with tension. “You say no bloodshed.”
“Your people have ours in pens.” Malin was riled all over again. “That’s cause for more than bloodshed. There’ll be death.”
“Enough.” Grif’s roar silenced them both. “Combat crew meet me in front of….” He looked to see who’d had time to erect shelter. “Zale’s tent in five. Come armed. Except for Bain. I need you to find Maddox and Nash stat. They should have warned us if the ghost made any move toward pack land. I want to make sure they’re okay before we determine the connection between the relocation of the females and our ghost. The rest start erecting a tent to prepare for the survivors return.”
Most hurried away as ordered. Only Malin remained, along with the worried presence at Grif’s back.
“Grif.” A delicate hand landed on his shoulder. “You can’t.”
The weight on his chest pressed tighter. It was all unraveling, the strands he’d tried to keep hold of slipping out of his grasp. No matter how tight he held on. Despite his best intentions, despite his formidable will, he couldn’t protect her from what was coming.
He turned to face her. “I will do what I can, but we always knew it could come to this.”
“Trade me for them.”
He reared back. “No.”
“Yes.” Her voice was as soft as ever, but it echoed with a conviction that terrified him to his soul. “It’s best choice.”
“Not happening.” She was willing to die without any care for herself. Even after all that had been said. Did she think losing her would be so easy for him? His fury ignited once more.
“It’s a reasonable plan. It doesn’t have to be forever.” Malin’s comment surprised him. He’d forgotten the other male was there. “Just long enough to buy us time to get the females away. If she is really on our side, this will be the proof we need.”
“I don’t need proof.” Grif forced his fists to remain clamped tight around his weapon and not sailing toward Malin’s face.
It wasn’t easy. Especially since he could see how, with every doubting word Malin spewed, Nayla’s determination to demonstrate her innocence grew.
No matter what he did. What he said. The need to prove herself remained. As if his approval and support and care wasn’t enough.
“You won’t last the suns’ rise and you know it,” Grif snarled at her.
“Maybe.” She swallowed hard. “But Talg could have killed me many times. He never do. I-I don’t think he able let mate go, and I am only connection to her. I no think he kill me.”
“You want me to risk your life on a maybe?”
“No. I want you have faith in me.” She met his gaze head-on, the echo of their earlier conversation swirling in her wide iridescent eyes. “At the cliff, I show what I am capable of. I no hide behind you anymore.”
“I never asked you to. I just don’t need you throwing yourself in front of an oncoming shuttle for me, either.”
She tossed her chin high in the air. “You tell me to know my mind. This is it.”
“No.” He shook his head. This was exactly what he’d feared all along. “You’re not sacrificing yourself out of guilt or some desperate need for approval. That’s not strength. It’s cowardice of the highest order.”
She recoiled as if he’d slapped her.
“Hells, that’s messed up,” whispered Malin, “even by my standards.”
“Shut it,” he barked at the other male before pinning her with a hard stare. “It’s a bad plan. If you weren’t so caught up in your guilt and a desire to prove Talg wrong about your being unworthy, you’d see that. You may be willing to sacrifice yourself, but I am not.”
“You helped me be stronger. Now that I am, you don’t like.” She shouted back at him. “You can’t control everything.”
His rage flared. “Maybe not. But I can control you.”
Her head snapped up. “What that mean?”
“It means you are now confined to Zale’s tent until I’ve decided on a new plan and assured myself that you aren’t planning to go off half-cocked with Malin. Zale will stand guard.”
She reeled on her feet. “I-I am prisoner again? Even after all you promise me? Even after you say I always have choice.”
Guilt flooded through him, a bitter chalky taste that choked the back of his throat. He swallowed it down. He’d always been ruthless when it came to her. That didn’t change now. “A short-term confinement. I can’t have the distraction of worrying over you.”
Another soft intake. “You making a mistake.”
“At least we’ll both be alive to regret it.”
To his side, he could feel Malin’s approval, see the hint of a smirk creeping across his face. It made Grif feel like more of an ass—until he remembered all over again what she’d just offered to do.
“You say you want to stand by my side,” he snarled at her, “to take care of me like I do you, but all I see is a female who doesn’t think what we have is worth protecting above all else. You’re so ready to die. I want someone who I can count on to live.”
She paled, her golden color leaching to dull yellow. She opened her mouth, shut it.
Without a word, she turned and marched toward Zale’s tent.
Grif wondered if it was the kind of separation they’d never come back from.
44
Nayla paced the length of the tent, anger and uncertainty a tight pit in her stomach.
Outside, the faint rustle of Zale’s boots as he paced the perimeter beat a steady rhythm. He’d checked on her several times already, his gaze not hard, but not warm, either.
She was an outsider all over again.
Swiveling, she strode the length of the tent, worry for the females and her pack a constant.
She wondered when Talg had decided to move them and why. Had her disappearance been the cause? It was as good a theory as any. Ramm would have known she’d been captured. He could have told Talg, who would assume she’d broken and told. He’d always said she was weak and a danger to the pack.
Shame burned her at how easily she’d proven him right. It was also a reminder of Grif’s recent harsh words. Was she so desperate to prove her worth that she’d lost her way again? Had she truly let him down?
The clawing return of doubt was unwelcome. Being with Grif, she’d gotten used to other sensations: joy, pleasure, happiness, comfort, security, and pride.
Until recently, when he’d made her question herself once more. How dare he? They were supposed to be a team.
“Nayla, can I come in?” A soft voice echoed from the other side of the tent. “It’s Lana.”
Not the person she wanted it to be, but she was also desperate for news, and some answers. “Yes, come in. Please.”
She hurried to the flap entrance.
Lana barreled through, her worry easy to read in the tight lines around her eyes and mouth. “Are you okay?”