in.”
None of this made sense to Mac. Then again, a couple of years ago, being mated—couplebonded, even—to a grizzly bear shifter wouldn’t have made sense. Nor would it have been believable.
“And it will work? You’re sure of that?”
She wasn’t exactly willing to go through the pain of a tattoo for nothing. Anyway, what guarantee was there it would work?
Ciara was facing away, fiddling with the instrument. She turned toward Mac. “Would you rather not go through with this?”
And be forever stuck in this state of love for Lance?
Not a chance.
“Just do it.” She sat in the chair, leaned back, and tried to take her mind somewhere else. Somewhere that didn’t feel the sting of the needle. Somewhere that didn’t feel the sting of tears—not for the physical pain of it—but for the emotional pain of being torn asunder from what she had shared with Lance.
A million times Mac thought of Lance during her time in that chair, staring at the sterile white ceiling above. A million times she wanted to stop the procedure, get in her Jeep and find Lance—if only to get answers.
That day was hell for her. A hell that fueled her emotions to this very day.
Chapter 12
E xcept now , Mac was so very near Lance.
Though her body was fighting to recover from the exposure to the cold—
Though her head throbbed from being hurt.
Though her mind was pushing him away—
That damned tattoo felt like it was on fire. Then it felt like it was moving, undulating in waves against her skin.
What the heck?
And her body ached with the need for him. Not just sexually. Not just emotionally. It was an ache that transcended all the different planes of need. It encompassed her very core in a grip tighter than she could bear.
“What have you done, MacKenzie. Why? Why this tattoo?”
His words reverberated, bouncing in her mind, echoing in the chambers of her emotions.
What had she done? No different than he’d done. He’d tried to cut her out of his life by leaving. She’d tried to cut him out of hers in a different way.
She opened her eyes. Lance loomed in front of her. A large vision that still took her breath away, still made her heart beat.
His head was buried in his hands, his profile one that mirrored desolation. The same fucking desolation she’d felt in her heart every day since he’d left.
Mac put her hand on his arm. The surge of energy that traveled through her body and culminated in her nerve endings gave her an awareness as if she’d just opened her eyes to a new dimension.
Lance turned his head slowly, as though dreading what he’d see.
“What is that about?” His voice was a tortured croak.
Mac exhaled. “Don’t worry. It didn’t work.”
“Work?” His brow furrowed. “How was it supposed to work?”
“What does it matter?” She closed her eyes, shutting him out.
“I won’t make it that easy for you.” His words broke through her barrier and hit the bull’s eye of her fury.
Mac’s eyes flew open. “Easy? What did you make easy for me at all? Leaving me to pick up the pieces of my broken heart?”
She cursed herself for telling him he’d left her brokenhearted. Struggling to sit up, she pushed herself only to find she was weak.
Lance tried to help her, his hands on her shoulders.
She shoved his hands away.
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you now.”
Except…
She didn’t want to admit to herself she did need something. She so did. She needed his love. Despite the failed tattoo, despite Ciara’s failed solution.
First thing I’m doing when I get home is contacting Ciara or Larsen. Someone had better have an explanation why this was such an epic failure.
“You may not need anything, but I owe you something.”
She glanced at him sideways, from the corner of her eye. What did he think he owed her?
“And that would be…”
“An explanation. Why I did what I did.”
“Is that your way of trying to change the way things are?”
Lance
None of this made sense to Mac. Then again, a couple of years ago, being mated—couplebonded, even—to a grizzly bear shifter wouldn’t have made sense. Nor would it have been believable.
“And it will work? You’re sure of that?”
She wasn’t exactly willing to go through the pain of a tattoo for nothing. Anyway, what guarantee was there it would work?
Ciara was facing away, fiddling with the instrument. She turned toward Mac. “Would you rather not go through with this?”
And be forever stuck in this state of love for Lance?
Not a chance.
“Just do it.” She sat in the chair, leaned back, and tried to take her mind somewhere else. Somewhere that didn’t feel the sting of the needle. Somewhere that didn’t feel the sting of tears—not for the physical pain of it—but for the emotional pain of being torn asunder from what she had shared with Lance.
A million times Mac thought of Lance during her time in that chair, staring at the sterile white ceiling above. A million times she wanted to stop the procedure, get in her Jeep and find Lance—if only to get answers.
That day was hell for her. A hell that fueled her emotions to this very day.
Chapter 12
E xcept now , Mac was so very near Lance.
Though her body was fighting to recover from the exposure to the cold—
Though her head throbbed from being hurt.
Though her mind was pushing him away—
That damned tattoo felt like it was on fire. Then it felt like it was moving, undulating in waves against her skin.
What the heck?
And her body ached with the need for him. Not just sexually. Not just emotionally. It was an ache that transcended all the different planes of need. It encompassed her very core in a grip tighter than she could bear.
“What have you done, MacKenzie. Why? Why this tattoo?”
His words reverberated, bouncing in her mind, echoing in the chambers of her emotions.
What had she done? No different than he’d done. He’d tried to cut her out of his life by leaving. She’d tried to cut him out of hers in a different way.
She opened her eyes. Lance loomed in front of her. A large vision that still took her breath away, still made her heart beat.
His head was buried in his hands, his profile one that mirrored desolation. The same fucking desolation she’d felt in her heart every day since he’d left.
Mac put her hand on his arm. The surge of energy that traveled through her body and culminated in her nerve endings gave her an awareness as if she’d just opened her eyes to a new dimension.
Lance turned his head slowly, as though dreading what he’d see.
“What is that about?” His voice was a tortured croak.
Mac exhaled. “Don’t worry. It didn’t work.”
“Work?” His brow furrowed. “How was it supposed to work?”
“What does it matter?” She closed her eyes, shutting him out.
“I won’t make it that easy for you.” His words broke through her barrier and hit the bull’s eye of her fury.
Mac’s eyes flew open. “Easy? What did you make easy for me at all? Leaving me to pick up the pieces of my broken heart?”
She cursed herself for telling him he’d left her brokenhearted. Struggling to sit up, she pushed herself only to find she was weak.
Lance tried to help her, his hands on her shoulders.
She shoved his hands away.
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you now.”
Except…
She didn’t want to admit to herself she did need something. She so did. She needed his love. Despite the failed tattoo, despite Ciara’s failed solution.
First thing I’m doing when I get home is contacting Ciara or Larsen. Someone had better have an explanation why this was such an epic failure.
“You may not need anything, but I owe you something.”
She glanced at him sideways, from the corner of her eye. What did he think he owed her?
“And that would be…”
“An explanation. Why I did what I did.”
“Is that your way of trying to change the way things are?”
Lance
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