He’d Shifted back to human form, and I could feel him taking in everything: the way I was standing, the tilt of my head.“You look like you want to hit something,” he observed mildly. “A wall. Possibly a tree. Something hard.”“Lucas is going to kill himself.” I didn’t sugarcoat it, but my voice didn’t exactly reflect the black hole of emotion churning in my gut, either. “If I can’t work something out, if we don’t protect him from this family and from Shay, he’s going to die.”If Chase found what I was saying at all surprising, he certainly didn’t show it, and the only thing I felt through his end of the bond was a brief surge of dislike for Lucas, distrust, pity.“Don’t,” I said sharply before he could say a word. “Don’t tell me this isn’t my problem. Don’t tell me it’s not my fault. There’s an answer to this, Chase, and if I don’t find it—if I can’t find it—then whatever happens to Lucas damn well is my fault.”Chase didn’t argue, didn’t tell me to lower my voice.“You want to hit something?”
