“After what happened when that bastard…” I left it unsaid. Stimpson hadn’t just wounded her, but would have done worse given the opportunity. “Were she an alpha, we’d expect nothing less.”
“Her dynamic has no bearing,” he said, but the martial light in his eyes told a different story. “She is our mate. She went into the world alone…”
“She had protection in the form of a groom, and then that Dalzell fellow. And her pistol.”
“We can be angry with her. And tell her so. We should,” he insisted. His eyes pleaded with me to see his point of view. Perhaps because I did, I knew we must do something different. “You were the one to call Hartwell omegas a menace to society.”
“And I can’t change my mind?” I looked away from him to our mate. Her face was pinched in pain. I thought her a menace still, though I’d not tell him. She menaced my heart, weak organ that it was. Without taking my eyes off her, I reached out for Jack, threaded my fingers through his hair.
“You don’t find yourself needing to remind her you own her?” He sounded confounded. “When did that change?”
My gaze travelled once more over Beatrice’s features before turning to study Jack. His dark beauty was more tortured than normal. He might be angry at Beatrice, but I was angry at him. How could he make this about him when she was the one lying as if dead between us?
“Her decision to put herself in harm’s way makes me want to chain her to her nest.” I’d not deny my own anger. “I am angry. But while listening to the story… I could not help but be proud of her. Give her credit for being so brave. To tell her to sit at home because she is an omega and my mate? Think, if she was an alpha or beta, wouldn’t you want her to take the initiative? Jack… You must see how my feelings could alter.”
It was a long speech, but he held his peace until I finished.
“You’ll not take my anger from me,” he said with emphasis. “Her bravery taunts me. I’m a simple man, or so I like to think. I want her safe. I am angry when she puts herself in danger. I’d be the same with anyone I loved.”
“But would you not hold yourself to the same standard?”
“I am a soldier,” he said, as if that explained everything.
I looked at my bite on his shoulder, felt his bite on mine. “I’ll not argue with you when you are being so impossible.”
Too exhausted to argue more, I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, my face a breath from Beatrice’s. Jack settled at her back—close, but equally far away. I woke briefly in the night to find our arms and legs draped over her, tangled together. For the first time that I could remember, I sent an urgent plea to the Goddess asking for her peace and blessing.