Page 72 of Knight’s Retribution

Arms banded around her, and she was pulled back.

“No!” she screamed. “Don’t touch me!”

“Kyler,” a rough voice said against her ear. “Baby, it’s me, it’s Rocco. Don’t fight me, Ky. I need you to stop fighting me.”

The fear and rage instantly drained from her at the sound of her mate’s voice, and she spun in his arms, all but climbing his big, powerful body, wrapping herself about him. “Hold me,” she rasped against his ear. “Hold me and never let go.”

* * *

Rocco held his mate, and he had no intention of letting her go. Not ever.

He dropped to the ground, sitting his ass on the floor, and continued to hold Kyler. She was hot, flushed, but had barely broken a sweat, and considering the way she’d been going at that bag…yeah, she should be shaking, out of breath, exhausted. But the way she held him, the strength she was doing it with, she was far from it.

He glanced at the leather bag hanging in the corner. It was torn up, sand all over the floor under it. That wasn’t the first time that had happened in this room. They went through punching bags fairly regularly, especially if one of his brothers needed to work through some shit, but they were warriors, they had supernatural strength.

Grace and Luna were both physically strong. Grace fought demons on the regular, and she kicked their fucking asses. Luna was half vamp, strength was part of her DNA. But even they hadn’t been able to decimate a punching bag the way Ky just had.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Talk to me, pumpkin.”

“I’m just…I was angry. I’ve been so angry and I didn’t want to tell you, I didn’t want you to worry, so I told Luna and she said punching helped and I…don’t know what happened. I kept seeing him, his disgusting face, those eyes, and I hit and I hit and I couldn’t stop.”

He leaned back and took her face in his hands. “You don’t have to shield me, baby, not ever. I don’t want that. I’m your mate, you’re feeling something like that, you talk to me. I’m fucking glad you feel you can share with Luna, I love that, but when you’re hurting or worried or scared, or fucking angry, tell me, and we’ll work through that shit together.”

She blinked up at him, and he watched her try to rein it in, to gather the control she’d just lost.

“Don’t do that,” he rasped. “You don’t have to pull it together for me. You’re not the first one here to lose control, and you won’t be the last. You have to get it out. You bottle it up, it will eat at you.”

“It was, it was eating at me.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“It’s still there, the anger, but it’s muted.”

“That’s good.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled. “Right, I know that freaked you out…but I’ve got some good news.”

She frowned, her nose scrunching up in a way that made him want to kiss her. So he kissed her, because he had to, because he could.

“What good news?” she asked, looking confused, and he couldn’t blame her.

“Look at the bag you just beat the shit out of,” he said.

She glanced over to the corner of the room and the mess she’d made. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. Are they expensive?” Her eyes came back to him. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Baby, that bag was made of heavy-duty leather and filled with sand.”

She looked at it again and back at him, not getting it.

“You tore that up, Ky, with your fists.”

She bit her lip and glanced back at it. “So that’s…it’s hard to do?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to do.”

She did more of that lip chewing, and he had to stop himself from kissing her again. “How is that good news? What am I missing?”

“Your power, I think we just worked out what it is.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m strong?”