Heart of Glass

by P. Jameson

  It sounded like a fairytale. Complete with a knight in fiery armor who would defend his princess with his life.

  And Nyla didn’t believe in fairytales.

  Maybe once, but not anymore.

  The clink of metal and the cool air hitting her raw wrists drew her attention back to Skittles. The disgusting shackles lay open on the bed, her hands suddenly free to move. Yet all she could do was stare at them.

  Dirty and bloody, her nails chipped and broken from clawing at things. Bruises that speckled her arms all the way to the elbows. She curled her fingers into fists, trying to get the feeling back into them. Without the weight of the steel they felt foreign.

  When she didn’t move to take her hands out of the open cuffs, Skittles reached forward carefully lifting one, then the other, and pulling the shackles off. He set them on the table beside the bed, and found her eyes. His look seemed to make a promise as he muttered, “It’s done. Never again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Nyla closed her eyes to escape the intensity of his gaze, and when she opened them again, he had stood and was walking toward a door across the room. She watched him swing it open to reveal a bathroom. A real fucking bathroom. With a sink and counter and a tub, like Marlee said. Nothing like the flimsy partition that hid a grimy toilet, that the Dolls shared in Bastian’s basement cell.

  “What’s he doing?” she asked Marlee.

  “Just running you a bath. Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you.”

  She found her friend’s gaze, demanding truth. “How do you know?”

  Marlee hesitated. “It’s not easy to explain.”

  “They turn into fire. How much stranger can it get?” Nyla hissed, using more energy than she meant to. It reminded her she had none to spare. Free or not, she was weak as fuck.

  “A lot, actually.”

  “Tell me. Please.”

  Marlee looked back over her shoulder, and Nyla’s gut clenched in warning. Something was wrong. She knew the fairytale Marlee described was too good to be true. God, how bad was it? Maybe they were in deeper trouble than they’d been with Bastian.

  Leaning forward, she whispered as if it was top-secret information, “Skittles has chosen you to protect.”

  Nyla frowned, absorbing the words and trying to find some secret meaning that would alert her to the real danger.

  “He will take it very seriously,” Marlee continued. “He will probably get bossy, especially if he thinks there is danger nearby. He will want to feed you. A lot. He’ll ask you what you need, and you won’t want to tell him. It’s your choice if you do or not, but try to remember, he really wants to help. He… he needs to. He’s been waiting for you, Nyla. He was a mess when Ratchet came back without you. I was too,” she said sadly. “We all were. God. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  She leaned forward to fold her arms around Nyla while the curious words rolled around in her mind. But the contact felt nice. She’d missed the woman so damn much over the past months. Had worried about her, and whether or not she’d made it to safety.

  Nyla breathed her first sigh of relief.

  They pulled apart and Marlee found her eyes.

  “Just give him a chance. Get to know him while you’re here, while you heal. And when the smoke clears, if you want to leave… he will let you.”

  It wasn’t hard to agree. Especially since she was helpless and had nowhere else to go anyway.

  She would stay here. She would be cautious. She would get stronger.

  And then?

  Then she would have her revenge on Bastian. Even if it killed her. And oh… oh, how sweet it would be.

  Chapter Nine

  Skittles leaned over the side of the bathtub, testing the warmth of the water that spewed from the faucet. Reaching to the shelf above the sink, he pulled down a jar of the salt he used when his muscles ached. When he was fully human, his body didn’t heal and recover like it did when he was part panther. So he’d taken advantage of soaking in the bath. The salts helped.

  And they smelled like him.

  Maybe it would help his mate too.

  He added some to the water, swirling with his hand to mix them in, and then he set his fluffiest towel on the shelf nearby. He’d snuck some things into the warehouse when people weren’t looking, anticipating the day she’d be here with him. A toothbrush and some lotions. Some softer towels than the ones he already had. A comb and brush. Some things that smelled nice. Even though her scent was the better than he could’ve possibly imagined.

  He straightened, looking around the room. It was too bright. He had noticed she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. Probably a result of being in the dark too long.

  Reaching over the sink, he unscrewed three of the four bulbs, bringing the brightness down some.

  There. It was ready for her.

  Walking back into the room, he stopped a ways off from the bed. “Bath’s ready.”

  Nyla stared at him warily. But he didn’t worry. Not too much.

  She had murmured his name when she woke up. Said it like it brought her relief. The sound of it coming from her lips gave him more satisfaction than he could imagine. Maybe she didn’t know he was safe, but she knew he was safer than where she’d been before.

  It was a start.

  “Do you think you can you walk?” Marlee asked her. “Or do you want Skittles to carry you?”

  Nyla frowned. “I’ll walk.”

  Marlee helped her sit and Skittles held himself back from lurching forward to do it himself. He had to be careful. His animal was aware of how fragile she was right now. Body and mind.

  He wanted to do it all for her. Feed her, carry her, doctor her wounds. Pet her hair until she fell asleep. Keep her warm with his body. Soothe her worries. Provide her every want and need.

  Yes. I take care of mine.

  But instinctually he knew, if he did what he wanted, it would be too much.

  Marlee held her arm as Nyla eased out of bed. But her legs didn’t hold the weight and her knees buckled under her. Skittles reached forward, wrapping his arm around her shoulders so she could use him as a crutch. She stiffened, but didn’t pull away, and Marlee braced herself under the other shoulder for extra support.

  But three steps in, it was clear that Nyla couldn’t walk. Not even propped up on them like she was. Without seeking her permission, he bent and lifted her into his arms. It felt like carrying next to nothing… yet everything.

  “I’m fine,” she hurried out.

  “Hush, woman,” he said softly. He avoided her gaze as he carried her through the bathroom door and lowered her to sit on the edge of the tub. Marlee stood nearby, watching, but saying nothing. He wished she would leave, but knew she shouldn’t. Her presence calmed Nyla, and that was most important right now.

  Still, he looked forward to the time when he and his mate would be alone. There was bonding to do. Learning. He wanted to know what made her tick. What made her cry or smile. What she’d been through. And what he needed to do to help her.

  Too fast. Slow down.

  How? How did he force himself to go slow, when she was finally here?

  Skittles crouched low, eyeing Nyla’s ratted, threadbare sweatpants. They were practically disintegrating. It wouldn’t take much to get them off of her. “Let’s get you out of these,” he muttered, reaching for the waistband.

  To his surprise she swatted his hand away, and when he found her gaze, she was scowling.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Well, shit. He hadn’t been thinking that she’d care about her modesty. But that was a human trait, wasn’t it?

  “I can undress myself,” she said, barely finding enough breath to get the words out.

  Skittles arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  Nyla narrowed a glare at him.

  “I’ll manage.”

  Skittles sighed, standing. But she didn’t make a move to get naked.

  “Just… gonna catch my breath first. You can
… you know… leave.”

  No way was he leaving her alone in here. What if she fainted and hit her head? What if she was too weak to get out on her own? What if…

  He slid a glance to Marlee for help.

  “I have an idea,” she said carefully. “What if Skittles closes his eyes while holding you up, then I can get your clothes free?”

  Close his eyes? Why the hell would he do that. He was meant to see her, and he would. He planned to catalogue every mark and bruise, every cut and scar, and pay them back to Bastian with interest.

  Besides, he wanted to start learning her. The shape of her body, where to put his hands. How soft she felt, how she would respond to him. He couldn’t do that without looking at her.

  “Well… okay. But only if he closes his eyes.”

  Wait, what?

  Marlee eyed him expectantly.

  “You’re serious?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “How is this going to work?”

  “Easy. You support her there, I’ll get her clothes off, then she can swing around into the water and we’ll lower her down.”

  Skittles stared at her, dubious. “And you want me to do this with my eyes closed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tightly,” Nyla added. “Closed tightly.”

  He looked between the two of them. This was not the most efficient way of getting her cleaned up. It’d be much faster if he could just strip her and lift her into the tub. Hell, it’d be really handy if he could just get in there with her, that way he could help her bathe.

  Too fast. Slow down.

  His beast was right. What good would it do for him to force his will. It was no way to build trust, and that was exactly what he needed to focus on. Trust. Gaining hers and finding his where it was buried under all the shit done to him as a child.

  “Fine.”

  Nyla’s shoulders sagged even more in relief, and he knew he’d made the right decision.

  It was a little tricky, finding the right way to hold her steady without opening his eyes, but with Marlee’s guidance, they managed. Since he couldn’t see what the hell was going on under her ratty clothes, he used the time to hone in on his other senses. The insignificant weight of her in his arms was something he was beginning to get used to. But he could tell she’d once been muscular and solid. Strong even.

  She would be that way again. He’d see to it.

  “I’m watching you, candy boy,” Nyla warned in between heavy breaths that told him she was exerting a lot of energy.

  Her face was close enough, he could feel the warmth her breath. There was no doubt that she’d catch him if he even attempted a single peek.

  “I never imagined you’d be so modest,” he grumbled, and Marlee laughed in response.

  “Nyla? Modest? She’s not at all, actually. I’ve seen her naked hundreds of times.”

  “Hard to be modest…” Nyla huffed, “… when you live in such close quarters with four other girls.”

  “Yet, here I am, looking a fool, with my eyes squeezed shut. And for what, woman?”

  There was a hesitation, but finally she answered, her voice cool. “I don’t know you,” she said simply. “Just because you’ve helped me doesn’t mean I’m ready to show you fucking anything.”

  Her fire-tinged words made him want to smile. So much that he had to press his lips together to keep them under control.

  Good girl, he hummed in his head.

  “You want to see modest?” Marlee continued. “That would be Skye. Girl would change underneath a blanket to keep things hidden.”

  “Where is she?” Nyla asked. “And Janet and Vegas? How are they?”

  “Everyone is safe,” Marlee assured her. “Janet and Skye have their own room here. And Vegas has mated with Monster.”

  “Monster?”

  He realized Nyla would only remember Monster as the brutal bodyguard assigned by Bastian to see that none of the Dolls escaped. There was a lot to explain.

  “Yes,” Marlee said. “He loves Vegas very much. And she loves him.”

  Nyla was silent.

  “There will be plenty of time for you to catch up, but let’s get you cleaned up and rested first, okay?”

  Nyla must have nodded because she shifted downward, toward the tub.

  “Still watching you,” she reminded him.

  “Good.” And he meant it.

  Once she was in the water, he lowered her down. And as he released her, his hand accidentally grazed a plump breast tipped with a hard nipple. His mouth went dry as desire slammed him like a fist.

  Fucking hell.

  Nyla gasped in shock, and Marlee cleared her throat, probably wondering if he was about to lose his shit.

  Mine, his animal demanded, but somehow he kept his eyes closed.

  The touch hadn’t been on purpose, but he didn’t apologize. Couldn’t. Because he wasn’t sorry and he wouldn’t say he was unless it was true.

  “I got this,” Marlee said, urging him blindly toward the door. “I’ll sit with her and call you when she needs to get out, okay?”

  When he heard the door to the bathroom click shut, he opened his eyes and turned to stare at it.

  His mate was behind that door. Naked and being cared for by someone other than himself. It rubbed his instincts raw, but there was nothing to be done about it.

  She was more comfortable with him on this side of the door.

  It was something he’d have to accept.

  For now.

  Soon, his beast crooned. Soon, we bond.

  Chapter Ten

  I paced my room, feeling confined. Trapped. I was entitled to the largest living quarters in the warehouse, but that didn’t exactly mean it was roomy. And tonight, it felt even smaller.

  I was too wound up. Too edgy.

  And all my usual outlets weren’t possible. Fucking. Fighting. Drinking. None of it appealed.

  Oh, I knew what the problem was. My inner beast wanted… needed… shit, it needed to see Skye. But fuck that. She didn’t control me. It didn’t control me.

  I kicked some empty beer bottles out of my path, and stalked from the bed to the bathroom and back again. The place was a mess. Dirty clothes littered every surface. It looked as if my closet and dresser had one hell of a party and then vomited all over.

  This was no place for a female.

  Not that I would bring her here. No female had ever been in my room. When I fucked, I did it on neutral territory. Where there was nothing of sentimental value. Nothing to attach a memory to. And I damn well didn’t let anyone into the single place on this earth that was just mine. That wasn’t going to change just because my goddamned animal wanted to demand things of me.

  Frustrated, I bent to pick up a pile of t-shirts and tossed them into an empty laundry basket. There. A path to the couch was clear. New ground to pace.

  But that was enough of a distraction that I started searching for more things to move. Clearing things out was curiously satisfying. I tossed socks into the basket, collected bottles to send downstairs to the glass crusher, filled two whole bags with the trash that cluttered the room.

  Good fuck, what was wrong with me? I felt like I was coming out of a fog. Like the shit that mucked up my insides where my old cat used to reside was clearing and I was just… empty. My space should reflect that. And now that I could see more clearly, I was fucking aware of the mess I’d been living in. The way I’d been barely existing. The way I had used others to blur out the pain of losing my animal.

  Before that, at least I’d had my power to make the pain of my raising feel less severe. Worth it even. But without the werecat…

  Who even was I anymore?

  Not the same as I was before. And not anything substantial. I felt like a ghost. A shell.

  As I cleaned up my shithole of a room, something happened. And I didn’t like it. Because I didn’t like anything that made me see myself. Actually see myself the way others saw me. That shit never felt good. But I saw it. I saw
the trash I collected and the remnants of a me that didn’t care about anything. And I realized… fuck.

  That had changed.

  I cared about something.

  Maybe I wasn’t ready to admit what, but I wasn’t a fool. The evidence was there. I was changing. And it felt like being ripped apart from the inside out.

  A thundering knock on the door drew my attention away from the cleaning and I stalked past the heaping trash bags to answer it. Weaver, a male who normally did my bidding without question, stood on the other side. He wasn’t a weak member of the clan. Not at all. But he was definitely one of the quieter ones.

  “A shed’s on fire,” he said flatly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Burning.”

  I frowned at his lack of information. “One of the Firecats start it?”

  Weaver shook his head. “Not one of us.”

  “Bastian,” I hissed.

  “Seems like it.”

  I pushed past him into the hallway. “Get the Ice Cat. See if she can put it out before it spreads.” I needed to locate Skye and make sure she was protected.

  “Ice Cat is already on it,” Weaver said, following behind me as I charged down the corridor to the other side of the warehouse.

  “Oh. Well. Fine. I’ll be there in a minute.” I waved him off and continued in the direction of the quarters Skye shared with Janet.

  Pulling to a hard stop outside their door, I reached for the handle, not even thinking about whether or not I should knock. But before I could barge inside and see for myself that she was safe, I was stopped by the sound of faint laughter.

  Her. Mine.

  And the sound of her laughing did horrible things to me inside. Things I couldn’t describe and didn’t want to poke at too much.

  Janet’s voice filtered through the door and then another round of that quiet, careful laughter. Whatever they were talking about, they weren’t in any danger. In fact, they were enjoying themselves.

  No need to disrupt them.

  I turned to head outside and stopped.