I went in the bathroom before she could protest. I would’ve been fine with changing right there, but I didn’t want to chance getting Tasered again. If I’d learned anything about this woman it was that she looked like heaven, but she could make you hurt like hell.
Since she’d opted to change in the bathroom, I figured I better do the same.
When I came out, her eyes moved over my bare chest, her lips parted slightly. I smiled, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms. She was just as attracted to me as I was to her. It was right there on her face.
Then her gaze fell onto my ankle. Shit. I should’ve left my socks on.
“It looks worse than it is.”
Her eyes rose up to meet mine. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s just scarred up.” I walked over to her, doing my best not to limp.
She knelt down to inspect it, her fingers lightly tracing my skin. “This is my fault.”
I reached to tip her chin up, exposing the scar along her shoulder by her collarbone. “Is this where he bit you?”
She broke eye contact and tugged the strap of her tank top over the scar. I leaned down and clasped her forearms, bringing her up to me. “You don’t have to be ashamed. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Everything about it was my fault.” Her dark eyes met mine in a fiery gaze. “I should have known Sebastian was using me, but I was blind and stupid. I bought into his romantic crap even though my gut screamed that he wasn’t all he seemed. Instead of being wary, it turned me on—I liked that he was dangerous.”
She shook her head and I did my best not to throw anything across the room. Just the thought of that jackass of a jaguar touching Sasha pissed me off. Knowing she had wanted him to touch her made me blind with jealousy until the wolf inside of me howled for vengeance.
“He ended up killing the witness I was supposed to be protecting and stole my humanity with one bite.” Her eyes were haunted, weighed down with regret. She gestured to her shoulder and then my ankle. “This is my fault.”
Chapter Twelve
Sasha
Guilt curdled in my stomach until I thought I might throw up. Seeing the mangled mess of Aren’s ankle and watching him stare at the scar on my shoulder left me emotionally bare. At least my wrist cuff still covered the Nero tattoo. I didn’t think I could hold it together if I had to face that reminder in front of him as well.
I tugged my shirt to cover the scar, and he caught my hand. I readied myself for some kind of judgment. Slowly, he moved closer, and his lips brushed the scar on my collarbone. His words lingered on my skin. “I’m sorry you lost so much, but if he hadn’t bit you, and you hadn’t captured me, I might never have found you.”
Leaning away from his comfort, I frowned. He didn’t sound like he was being sarcastic, but he couldn’t mean it. The other shoe had to be about to drop. I started to move away, but he trapped my hand again.
“I meant what I said at dinner tonight. I know it doesn’t make any sense to you. I don’t even understand it, but wolves mate for life, and when you find her and touch her skin, the wolf inside of the man recognizes her. That head-butt you gave me in San Antonio changed everything, and trust me, I hated that it was you for months. I tried to ignore it, deny it, run from it, but the fact remains: when I’m with you I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Even if it’s Los Angeles, surrounded by people dressed up like Speed Racer.”
“I swear Anime Expo was not my choice.” They were the only words my brain could process as my mind raced. Mate? What the hell was happening? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Jaguars didn’t mate for life. Did anyone, really? What did that even mean?
I opted to retreat and regroup, reaching for a way to change the subject. “But I guess this is actually a good cover. If we shifted here there’s a good chance no one would notice.”
He nodded. “You’re probably right.”
We sat in awkward silence for a moment, and I waited for him to say something. Preferably something not insane like “you’re my mate.”
But he didn’t say anything. He was forcing me to make the next move, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be to talk about mating. I grabbed his hand. “Come on, I’m going to show you a yoga pose that’ll help clear your mind and restore your energy.”
Yes. Yoga. Calm my mind, and maybe his too.
“I’ve got a bum ankle, remember?” He raised a brow. Smart ass. He almost made me smile.
Chapter Thirteen
Aren
“We’ll be careful of your ankle.” Sasha disappeared into the bathroom and came back with another towel. Laying it out beside hers, she patted the ground. “Just try it.”
I couldn’t resist her dark eyes looking up at me. Even though it was going to hurt like hell to get down on the floor, I managed it with only one “goddammit.” Not bad. I stayed up on my knees on the towel, careful to keep my weight off my injured joint.
“Okay, you’re going to bend at the hips, your rear going down toward your feet, but be sure to keep the weight on your knees.” Sasha sat back toward her heels. “Sit back really slowly, and be careful not to press on your feet.”
“No worries there.” The last thing I was going to do was put weight on my throbbing ankle.
“All right. Good.” She nodded and raised her hands up over her head, pressing her palms together. “This is the half-tortoise. It’s going to bring fresh oxygen to your brain and clear your head.”
Before I could scoff, she leaned forward resting her forehead on the towel while her hands remained in a prayer position up above her head. She stayed there, breathing slowly, sweating, and when she finally moved to sit up again, it was completely controlled. After another deep breath she glanced my way.
“Your turn.”
I shook my head. “Nah, I think I’ll stick to push-ups and sit ups.”
“You think those are tougher than yoga?” She raised a brow.
I gave it some thought and nodded. “Yeah. Probably.”
“Won’t know until you try.” But she smiled like she already knew.
That was all the challenge I needed. From up on my knees, I bent at the hip and sat back, careful not to rest my ass on my ankles. Then I brought my arms up over my head, pressed my palms together, and bent forward toward the towel like she had.
But for some reason my forehead wouldn’t touch the floor.
Sasha pressed down on my back. “Flatten your back so you can get your forehead to touch.”
I winced, but I finally did get my damn forehead down. Next, I felt her fingers clasp my bicep just above my elbow. “Lock your elbows, and pull your shoulders back. Only the edge of your pinky fingers should be touching the towel. Your elbows should be locked and up off the floor.”
“Jesus, this hurts,” I grumbled.
“Not so simple, huh?”
I sat up, proud that I kept my body tight like she did, although my back and abs were screaming. “It wasn’t too bad.”
“Ready for a second set?”
I struggled to keep my expression neutral. “Second set?”
“Yeah.” She got back on her knees on the towel beside me. “We’ll hold it a little longer this time.”
“Longer?” Crap, did I sound whiney?
Her eyes lit up with a playful sparkle. Shit.
“Still think push-ups and sit ups are tougher than yoga?”
“Yes,” I grunted, while raising my hands up over my head to bend forward.
Once I finally got my back flattened and my arms straight and my fucking forehead on the towel, sweat ran into my eye. Fighting the urge to break the pose and wipe it, I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing. One breath and another.