The Walls of Jericho

Conciliation

“No,” Channing replies, “but he might be the dragon.”

I have to admit, this Alpha thing Channing has going on is kind of sexy. At least when he’s not playing the bad boy playboy and flaunting a new supermodel in front of me every other day.

“I can help.”

My generous offer of assistance is met with stone cold silence. Damien blinks at me over the rim of his glasses. I can tell he’s sorely tempted and I give him an encouraging half smile and arch my brows.

Just as he draws breath to speak, Channing interrupts him.

Don’t you dare.> He silences Damien with a hard alpha glare, wrapping one of his meathook hands around my upper arm. “May I have a word with you?”

It’s not actually a question.

Or an option. Not even remotely.

He’s much bigger, so he drags me right across the floor. Or at least the whole two feet that constitutes ‘across the floor’ in Damien’s dinky but impressively well outfitted ‘mancave’.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, low and under his breath. His eyes blaze with deep angry yellow flecks. I can feel the alpha in him itching to come out.

What I absolutely don’t understand is: why?

I pry at his fingers ineffectually, then flash him a withering glare of my own. “Let go, Channing. What’s wrong with you? I’m trying to help.”

“Help? Is that what you think you’re doing?”

“Of course it’s what I’m doing. Are you dense?” I swear his hand around my arm is like a steel vice. “As soon as I get within range of that Daniels guy, I’ll know what the technology is that he has and whether it’s worth anything to you.”

“And if he’s the dragon? Did you consider that? As soon as you’re within range, he’ll have you trapped.”

“I’ve already proved I can handle him.”

“Proved you can handle  him!? You were almost crushed by a flying motorcycle! If the wolves of Avernus hadn’t arrived, you’d have been kindling!”

“No. You would have been kindling. I shielded us from that blast too!”

“For God’s sake! Would you try listening? There are over a thousand wolves living in this compound, Jericho. More all over the surface in Crossroads. Plus hundreds of thousands of humans too. All of their lives are in danger because of you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Alright, buddy. You want a fight? You’ll get one. “I didn’t ask anybody to put their lives in danger for me. In case you missed it, beefcake,” I poke him in the chest with a pointed finger, “I’m the one who brought down the dragon. Not your wolves of Avernus. Certainly not you! I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself. Now get your hands off of me. I’m leaving.”

He grabs me by both upper arms and gives me a light shake. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not going anywhere. You’re my mate and you’re staying where I can keep you safe.”

“Ridiculous? Ridiculous!?” Much as I don’t want it to, the pitch and volume of my voice have started to go up. “You know what’s ridiculous, Channing? That you think you have any say in anything I do. That’s what’s ridiculous! You’re not my alpha. You’re not even my boyfriend. And you sure as hell aren’t my mate! For God’s sake, we had s*x once!”

Channing’s brows shoot up in astonishment. “Once? For someone who thinks she’s so smart you could use some help with counting.”

“Oh crap.” Damien springs out of his chair like his backside is spring-loaded. “I’m going to step outside so you two can have some privacy.”

Both Channing and I are so busy fighting with each other, we barely notice his hurried exit.

“I need help with counting?” I bite out, incredulous at his audacity. “In the last five years, you and I have barely said ten words in a sentence to one another. We’ve spent less than forty-eight hours together in any capacity. Ever! How’s that counting working for you? I don’t care how many times we had s*x, or how good you are at it, beefcake, that effectively makes us friendly acquaintances. At best! Right now, I’m not feeling so friendly.”

Channing’s voice becomes deadly serious, low and quiet. “Are you threatening me, Jericho?”

The blazes of yellow ire in his eyes are rapidly becoming blinding. His grip on my upper arms hasn’t tightened. In fact, to his credit, he hasn’t hurt me at all. This last question though—that one’s a challenge. A dare.

Stupid move, Stark.

A snide smile spreads over my face. “In case you’ve forgotten, Alpha,” I sneer the last word, “I said I wanted to leave. You told me you wouldn’t allow it. In the real world—not the one you’ve got inside that pretty and empty little head of yours—that’s called false imprisonment. Which means technically, I’m not threatening you. I’m defending myself. The only reason there’s an issue is because you want to make one.”

Technomage powers coming right up. Let’s find out how deep this rabbit hole goes, beefcake.

Letting go of my upper arms, he crosses his over his chest. His eyes still blaze, but it almost seems softer.

Must be my imagination.

Still staring down at me, he says softly, “Why are you so God-awful brutal to my ego, Jericho?”

I have to admit, I am totally not expecting that. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“No. You don’t fight fair.”

Oh my God. He’s pouting.

Over losing a fight that he started for no reason.

Now, he’s starting a different fight.

Wrapping a hand around my IV pole, I pivot and head for the door. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Please.”

I freeze in my tracks. Refusing to sacrifice my dignity, I won't turn around. 

“I should have handled this differently.” The words are so quiet, if he weren’t standing directly behind me, I don’t think I’d have heard them any more than I heard his approach. “I should have handled this better. For that, I’m sorry.”

Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around.

Unable to stop myself, I turn around and nearly smack my nose on his wide chest. He’s directly behind me, so close that if I’d pivoted left instead of right, I’d have whacked him with my IV pole.

That thought’s a little cathartic, I have to admit.

The gorgeous blue eyes that meet mine are absent any of the enraged blazes of yellow. Instead, the white-blue swirling galaxies are back. He doesn’t touch me with anything but those eyes and inside, I feel melty and weak at the knees.

“I’m not sorry that I care about you, Jericho. Or that I want to keep you safe. I’m definitely not sorry that I want you next to me. Every single minute that you are is the best part of my day.”

Outside, Damien raps on the office door lightly.

The fact that it’s his office door is suddenly so absurd that I snicker in little huffs.

Channing’s eyes squeeze shut but those fine lips of his curl up. A quiet chuckle escapes him. With a quivering laugh in his voice, he asks me, “Should I tell him ‘come in’?”

It’s all that it takes. We burst into hysterical laughter.

All of the tension floods out of me. It evaporates from Damien’s tiny office completely as our laughter slowly fades.

What doesn’t dissipate is the undeniable gut feeling that Channing gets me.

Not just my kooky humor. Not just my needs and my drives.

All of me. He understands what makes me tick.

He’s a lot farther ahead in that understanding process about me than I am about him. It’s a guilty realization. 

Behind me, the door eases open. “Hey guys,” Damien says hesitantly. “I’m super sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to know Ferdi picked up the Daniels family. They’re not dragons. He’s taking them to a safe house to scan for a tracker.”

“Thanks, Damien.” Channing gives him a grateful smile. “Can you give us another minute, please?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

As the door clicks shut, his beautiful blues flick down to my face. “Stay with me. Please. I’ll fix you dinner—anything you want—and I promise to explain myself better.”

“Then you’ll show me how I can leave.”

Crestfallen, he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

“If I should want to.”

Channing’s slow smile comes with another almost imperceptible nod. “If you should want to,” he reiterates.

A warm rush pours into my system, but it’s not from morphine. It’s the reward I get back for yielding a little bit of my heart to the Alpha.