54. Marcus

Seeing her fall to the floor guts me. All I want at this moment is to go to her. Wrap her in my arms and tell her we will make it through this.

Because we will.

But I know that despite every fiber of my being pulling me toward her like gravity, I need to follow him. He didn't let her explain. He doesn't know the truth.

He thinks we betrayed him.

Without second-guessing myself for another second, I storm out the door into the rain, yelling his name into the night, seeing his tall frame freeze in place at my voice.

"You can't walk out on her like that!" I shout at him, allowing myself to get soaked, knowing his actions hurt my Mate. "She deserves better. We both do! I'm your best friend," I state, anger bubbling inside.

I know he's hurt. But he loves her. How dare he leave her like that? She needs time to explain.

"Were… You were my best friend, and I find it laughable that you believe I owe either one of you anything. Tell me, how long did you wait before you betrayed me? Was it that night? Or did you wait until I was out of communication before you swooped in and fucked my girl behind my back?" Deacon asks, venom dripping from his statement as he turns, accusing me.

I freeze in place, an internal war raging within myself.

One part of me wants to punch him square in the jaw for talking about her like that. The other wants to correct him, explain that we haven't crossed a single line, that out of respect for him we have done nothing.

The second part wins.

"I haven't touched her," I say, my voice calm and sincere before I let the anger enter again. "And, Fuck. You. You weren't here. You haven't seen how this is eating away at her. How much she feels like she is to blame. She didn't choose her Mate. The Fates did. The last three months have been hell on her. If you don't care about me anymore, that's fine. I'll accept that because of the circumstances we are in, but Grace deserves better. Or do you not remember how much you love her?" I say, hating every minute of this conversation.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

We were supposed to talk. Have a conversation and explain.

This… This is wrong.

My heart aches, knowing Grace is inside crying on the floor all alone, and I hate the stern expression that remains intact on his face. Indifference and anger are the only emotions he reveals now, and I know deep down he's feeling more than that. We all are. We are all hurting over this.

"You expect me to believe that your wolves are Fated and you haven't Mated? You haven't lost yourselves in each other? In three months? What kind of a fool do you take me for, Stone?" he asks, a dark chuckle coming at the end as he uses my last name intentionally as a reminder that we are no longer friends.

"It's the truth. You can ask her. I haven't seen her since the morning after her birthday. She wanted to tell you in person what happened, rather than on the phone or in some letter, so we agreed. Nothing would happen between us until you returned, until she could talk to you, until we both could. She loves you, Deacon. That hasn't changed. She just loves me too." I say, regretting the words the minute they come out.

She has never said those words to me.

I love her, but I don't know where her heart stands with me yet.

His fist slams into my cheek, pain exploding from the contact. The pain is almost better than the internal struggle I am having. I rock back, taking in the impact before a second fist slams into my eye, causing me to stumble to the ground, where his foot connects to my jaw with a crack. I take each blow, never swinging back at him or defending myself.

I deserve this.

"Fight back, you coward," he says, anger flowing from him as I look up at him from my back, one eye swelling shut, blood leaking from the other cheek, slowly being washed away by the rain.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Brother," I say, spitting blood onto the pavement.

"Then I guess you failed in that regard, too, " he says, turning his back to me and walking away.