Forced back to the topic at hand, I closed my eyes as fresh pangs of guilt and confusion coursed through me. I turned away from him, sinking onto the side of my bed with my hands loose in my lap, breathing deeply to try to calm myself. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. I was upset, and frustrated, and worried about Sara and Abby. Then, when I Shifted, it al changed. My anger felt different. It felt…productive. Almost cathartic. I thought if I could just slash something, or bite something, I’d feel better.”

His eyes softened almost imperceptibly, and I knew he understood—from very personal experience. “Bloodlust?” he asked, and I nodded, holding back tears with sheer willpower. “The deer didn’t help?”

“Not much.” I pressed my fingertips against my eyelids, as if I could physically stop the tears from coming. “She was too easy.”

Marc sat next to me on the bed, his leg brushing mine. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me toward him. I let him. I shouldn’t have. Any other time, I wouldn’t have. But as soon as my head touched his shoulder, tears blurred my vision, scorching their way down my cheeks.

Horrified, I pulled away from him, wiping furiously at my face with clenched fists, trying to erase the evidence of my emotional outburst before he noticed. I worked so hard to make everyone take me seriously, to make them treat me with the same respect they’d give a tomcat, the same respect they gave each other. And my little waterworks display would ruin it al , exposing me as the emotional y fragile little girl they’d always assumed me to be inside. Before I knew it, I’d be in the kitchen at my mother’s side, wearing one of her aprons as I learned the difference between baking powder and baking soda.

That thought only made me cry harder.

“It could have been worse,” Marc said, putting his arm around my shoulders again. I let him. What did it matter, now that I’d already embarrassed myself? “You didn’t actual y attack him, and he didn’t see anyone Shift. All he has is a crazy story about huge wild panthers. No one wil believe him.” He squeezed my shoulders, and I sobbed out loud. I’d liked it better when he was mad. I knew how to deal with anger, but I was terrible with sympathy, both giving and receiving. “And anyway, we all know how you feel. We al wanted to shred something, and the truth is that if we hadn’t been busy trying to find you, one of us might have done the same thing.”

He was lying. It was a sweet lie, but a lie nonetheless. None of the guys had so little control.

“You don’t understand,” I sniffed, sitting up straighter as I wiped tears from my face. “I wasn’t just mad. I was scared.” I whispered the last word, ashamed.

With the admission of fear came humiliation, and I avoided his eyes, afraid I’d find scorn in them if I looked.

But then I had to look. I had to see what he thought of me, because for some stupid reason it stil mattered. A little.

I looked up into his eyes from inches away, and what I found was not contempt but understanding. Not intel ectual comprehension but actual empathy. He knew what I felt because he’d felt it too. I remembered the fear I’d seen on his face the night before and knew that he understood mine.

I took a deep breath, preparing to explain myself. The words tumbled from my mouth in an untempered surge, determined, once they were free, to keep coming.

“Somebody took Abby and Sara, and if it happened to them, it can happen to me.”

Marc shook his head in denial, but I ignored him. “I just kept thinking that if they’d been faster, or stronger, they could have gotten away. I guess I was trying to prove to myself that I’m fast enough and strong enough. Then I just lost control.”

He held out his injured leg, and I noticed the bandage hadn’t survived his Shift. Luckily, he didn’t really need it anymore. The wound was jagged and inflamed, but the worst of the damage had already healed, probably during his recent Shift back to human. Either that, or I hadn’t hurt him as badly as I’d first thought. Even so, it would leave a thick scar. I’d permanently marked him as punishment for him trying to scent-mark me. How’s that for irony?

“You’re too fast for me, that’s for sure,” he said, eyeing his own injury.

I smiled ruefully. “Yeah, but Daddy’s going to kil me for that.”

“Speaking of which…”

I looked up, already suspicious. “What?”

“There’s no reason to tell him about the hunter,” Marc said, and I held my breath, waiting for the catch. “After al , no one got hurt or exposed, so there’s really nothing to tel .”

My eyes narrowed. “You trying to get back on my good side?”

“You have a good side?” He grinned, and I glared at him as he held up two hands in defense. “All I’m saying is that—assuming you can behave yourself from now on—there’s no reason to mention something that only almost happened.”

I reached up to pull a T-shirt from the bedpost where it hung like a white flag signaling my surrender. “And let me guess, you’re doing this because you’re such a nice guy.”

“That, and because I like having you in my debt.”

“Debt?” Now, that sounded more like Marc. “I’d say we’re even. You keep your mouth shut about the hunter, and I won’t mention you and the flock of airheads in the cafeteria.”

He cocked one eyebrow at me, as if impressed in spite of himself. Then he frowned. “That won’t make us even. I owe Ethan and Parker for you. You’re at a deficit.”