The roar of the crowd sounded hollow and tinny.
Rhys grabbed his shit from the table next to the cage doors and stalked through the crowd, his mood still sour. Drinks. He needed drinks and maybe another round in the ring.
He pulled up short when he spotted Lindley leaning against the door to the small locker room. Arms folded over his chest, he looked every inch the disappointed father catching his cub sneaking back in from a night of partying.
“You here to watch the fights?”
“Nope,” Lindley said with a loud pop. “I’m here to collect a lion gone AWOL.”
Rhys scowled. He was a grown man. He didn’t need the pride’s emotional babysitter tracking him down. He could take care of himself. “You going to let me in, or are you just going to keep talking shit?”
Lindley gave him a blank look, but let the door at his back swing open. Rhys hoped the man would stay outside, but no such luck. Once inside, he leaned against the door and refolded his arms, acting like a damn guard making sure he didn’t slip out of custody.
Rhys grabbed one of the towels off the stack next to the sink and ran the water until it scalded his fingers. Only then did he splash a handful on his face. Pink washed down the drain, taking blood and what was left of his hope and self-respect with it.
This was his life now. Hard. Brutal. Bloody. There wasn’t any room for the softer parts of life. He got those killed.
He met locked eyes with Lindley’s reflection. “You here as the pride’s second or Sage’s brother?”
“Are they mutually exclusive?” Lindley asked with a shrug, then shot back, “Are you here as a pride member or Sage’s mate?”
Rhys scowled and scrubbed his face dry. “Fuck off.”
“Oh, no,” Lindley chuckled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment since you told me to pull my head out of my ass with Kyla.” He waited until Rhys dragged his shirt over his head before clapping him on the shoulder. “C’mon. Let me buy you a drink before I haul you back to the ranch.”
Rhys followed him out into the narrow hall and looked fondly toward the exit. With a grimace deep enough to encourage others to get the hell out of his way, he trudged after Lindley. Better the second’s bullshit pep talk than the alpha’s rage. He could tune out the former, but he didn’t trust his lion to accept the latter without throwing down the gauntlet for a challenge fight.
Lindley signaled for the bartender as soon as they pushed through the crowd looking to slack their thirst between matches. Order placed, he fixed Rhys with a sharp look. “You’re being a dick to Sage.”
“No,” Rhys grinned viciously, “I was a dick. I’m now doing the right thing and staying the fuck away.”
“I’m not sure she’d agree.”
He slashed a glare to the pride’s second and tightened his hand around his drink. Irritation bubbled through him and he growled, “Why the hell do you care so much? I’m no good for her.”
“No one is going to be good enough for her. I’m not good enough of a brother. The Crowleys aren’t good enough of a pride.” Lindley shrugged. “But what I think doesn’t matter. It’s her decision. She’s already had enough stolen from her. I won’t be the one taking her choices away.”
“That’s what you think I’m doing? Taking away her choice?”
“Yes. You idiot. That’s what this whole conversation has been about.” He rolled his eyes. “You asked me once if I hated Kyla so much that I wouldn’t let her choose to let me into her life. So now I’m asking you the same.” Softer, he added, “Look, I don’t know the whole story—”
“So maybe shove the bullshit advice up your ass?” Rhys snapped.
Lindley shot him a warning glare and continued anyways. Asshole.
“You’re here, though, so I can only assume you made your confession with Trent. Knowing him, he probably growled and snarled, and still let you haul your mangy hide into one of those cabins. Don’t look so surprised; we all went through it to secure our place in the pride. I owe that man my life. I think we all do. So if he thinks you’re worth saving, then I’m going to trust him. You should, too.”
Worth saving? He wasn’t so sure about that. Especially now.
He tightened his grip on his bottle and shoved down the roll of fresh anger. None of it pointed at Lindley for prodding at him, or Trent for not putting him down years ago. Every last ounce latched onto him.
Sage didn’t deserve his bullshit.
“I had a mate,” Rhys said reluctantly. Fucking hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he put those words to air. Oh, they rattled around his head enough, but speaking them? They still didn’t sound right in his ears.
Then there was his lion. Dumb beast roared and slashed at him to make the correction.
He had a mate.
No. No, he fucking didn’t. Rhys kicked his lion to the back of his head and choked off the hateful sendings of blonde hair turning auburn.
He’d been a fool to think he knew how to spark Sage back to life. He was a killer. His lion wasn’t steady. He couldn’t keep a hold on himself in either form.
Back of his neck itching, he glanced to the side and found Lindley staring at him with pity and astonishment. One he didn’t want, and the other needed to be wiped clean from his general vicinity.
He was perfectly fucking aware of how he’d beaten the odds. Survived after the loss. Most shifters who lost the other half of their soul might as well have stripped down and followed their mate into the pyre for all the living they did after.
Revenge was a helluva motivator.
“It’s my fault she’s dead,” he growled. “I hope none of you ever have to experience that loss and guilt. It drives me insane
