Hank tensed. No one was going to make Chrissten do anything she didn't want to. He'd get out of this damn bed and fight them if he had to.

She nodded. "I will. Now go on. I'm going to curl up in the chair and nap."

Quinn plucked a blanket off the end of the bed, snapped it open and laid it over his sister. "Don't catch a chill." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I won't," she promised. "And thank you. For everything. For never giving up searching for me. For coming to my rescue a second time."

One corner of Quinn's mouth turned up in a grin. "It's what big brothers do."

She laughed and the soft sound soothed Hank's soul. He liked the fact Chrissten was close to her family, had someone to look out for her. At least he liked her brothers. He still wasn't sure about her newfound father. But he wished it was him making her laugh, bringing a slight smile to her face.

"I'll be down in the bar helping out if you need me."

"Okay."

He closed his eyes and felt Quinn's gaze brush over him. Hank kept his eyes closed until he heard the front door of his apartment shut and footsteps receding down the stairs.

Chrissten sighed and he opened his eyes again, not bothering to pretend he was still sleeping. She was staring right at him.

"I thought you were awake." She curled up deeper in the chair and pulled the blanket over her shoulders.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She shrugged. "I figured if you wanted Quinn to know you'd have said something."

He nodded and quickly decided that was a mistake. His head began to pound. There was a soft rustle of fabric and then a warm hand brushed his forehead. "Does your head hurt?"

He loved the feel of her hand on his face. Didn't want her to take it away. Ever. "Yeah, but not as much as the rest of me does."

The small sound of distress she made hurt him. He managed to move his hand enough so he could touch her arm. "Hey, it's okay. I'll be fine in a day or two. Good as new."

She closed her eyes and when she opened them there were tears in them. Like most males, he hated to see a woman cry, but most especially this woman. "I'm fine. Really." Hell, he'd promise her anything if it would keep her from crying.

He tried to sit up. Big mistake. Pain shot down his spine and radiated out. He gritted his teeth together and swore as he lay back down.

"Easy. You shouldn't be moving. Not yet. You were really hurt badly and you lost a lot of blood." Chrissten chewed on her bottom lip. He could tell she was worried about him. He didn't want her to see him as weak. His lack of strength frustrated him.

"Doesn't matter." He took a deep breath, ignoring the beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. No doubt about it, moving wasn't a smart idea.

"How are you feeling?" Hank figured it was a good idea to change the subject.

She moved away from him and sat back in the chair. He missed her immediately and wished she was still touching him. "I'm doing okay."

And that told him exactly nothing. She'd say she was fine even if she wasn't. He knew she wouldn't want to be seen as weak, as a victim. "I don't see how you can be okay," he countered. "You were kidnapped, not once, but twice. Beaten, starved, experimented on and hurt." He didn't say raped. He couldn't get the words past his lips.

No, he wasn't sorry for killing Brian. Not in the least. If ever a wolf had needed killing it was him.

A sad little laugh escaped her and she scrubbed her hands over her face. "Not exactly a prize, am I?"

"I didn't say that," he quickly countered. "You're a strong woman. You had to be to survive what you did. Hell, you were ready to take on the entire pack by yourself when I got there. I saw the pantry door opening. What the fuck were you thinking?" In spite of his best intentions to remain calm, his voice rose at the end. What was wrong with him? He never had trouble maintaining his cool. Of course, that was before Chrissten had stumbled into his life and made a mockery of his self-control.

She frowned and crossed her arms under her chest. He tried not to notice how that action plumped her breasts up. He really did. He might be injured, but he wasn't dead. And the V-neck of her cotton top gave him a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.

"I was thinking I wasn't going to be anyone's captive. Not again. I was going to escape or die trying."

It was then he noticed the bandages around her wrists and the reddish scars that disappeared under the long sleeves of her top. She'd been injured too.

"How bad were you hurt?" He'd kick his own ass if he had the strength. How could he not have asked about her injuries immediately?

She narrowed her gaze and he admired the flash of heat in her blue eyes. Was there anything sexier than a strong woman who was thinking about giving her man hell? He didn't think so.

Of course, he wasn't her man. Not yet. Maybe not ever. That thought sobered him quickly.

"My wrists and arms mostly and a couple of places on my back. Nothing too serious. I've got bumps and bruises and a mild concussion, but I'll be fine in a day or two."

Hank worried about her even though he knew she'd hate that. She'd still been recovering from her first ordeal when she'd been kidnapped again. She needed to be taken care of until she built her strength up again.

"Have you slept? Eaten?"

She nodded. "A bit of both. My brothers and Meredith saw to that."

Relief flooded him. Of course her family would make sure she was taken care of. And he could count on Meredith as well. That woman mothered everyone she met.

"What about your father?" He had a vague memory of seeing Donovan Brody fighting alongside the pack.

"What about him?" Chrissten plucked at a loose thread on the blanket. "He helped rescue me. I appreciate that, but it doesn't really change how I feel about him."

"You don't know him." There was no judgment in Hank's voice. As far as he was concerned it was her choice if she wanted to pursue a relationship with her father or not.

"I know he's domineering and stubborn and authoritative."

Hank couldn't fight back a small grin. "All that?"

"He's male," came her dry reply.

They sat without speaking for several minutes, each of them lost in thought. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but a contemplative one. Hank was putting off the inevitable conversation. He freely admitted he was being a coward. That didn't sit well with him. He'd never turned away from the hard tasks before and wasn't about to start now.

"What happened? After?" He had to know. His last memory was of being carried out of the fight by Isaiah. Not exactly the way to project strength to the woman he wanted to mate with. But there was nothing he could have done differently. His body had simply given out.

Chrissten pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The blanket slipped to the floor, forgotten. "The pack left and Joshua and my father took care of the bodies. I'm not sure what they did with them and I don't want to know. Oh, and Michael picked up your gear from where you had it stashed." She motioned to the closet and he gave a sigh of relief. He'd wondered what happened to his guns and knives. No need to leave evidence lying around a potential crime scene.

"Damek bought the building."

"What? Why?" The vampire continually surprised Hank.

She nibbled on her lower lip. He wanted to nibble on it for her and then soothe it with his tongue. And right on cue his dick stirred. He was definitely on the mend. He ignored his growing erection and concentrated on the conversation at hand.

"He said it would help him control the crime scene. He plans to use his own people to tear it down and get rid of any remaining evidence. He said it was safer than burning the building down. That would only bring in the fire department and the police and no one wants that."

That made sense to Hank. But this was a werewolf problem not a vampire one. Why Damek would feel the need to clean up the mess was beyond him, but he was damn grateful for it.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He blurted out the words before he could talk himself out of it. Time to lay his cards on the table. "I'm sorry you had to watch me rip out Brian's heart. But I'm not sorry I did it. I just wish you hadn't had to see it." And he wished he'd never had to witness the look of sheer horror on her face when he'd done it. "I know you must look at me differently now."

Chrissten couldn't believe what she was hearing. Hank was apologizing to her for saving her life. The man lay flat on his back in bed, suffering from blood loss and injuries because he'd fought for her life and he was telling her he was sorry. Oh, not for protecting her, but because she'd had to witness it.

"I'm sorry too," she blurted out. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. "Are you okay? Are you hurting anywhere?" Stupid question. Of course he was hurting. Everywhere. His back and chest and been shredded by sharp claws. The slashes were closed now but the thick red scars remained.

"I'm fine. Maybe you should get some rest. I'm fine by myself."

Her heart squeezed tight. He didn't want her here. And why should he? She'd forced him to kill, to rip out another wolf's heart. He was a fighter, a warrior. She knew that and accepted it. But he had a code of honor. He was one of the good guys and he'd almost died because of her.

She worried about Hank and how fighting this battle might affect him. She'd talked to Meredith about his time in the military and learned as much as she could about that time in his life. It helped her gain a more complete picture of the man she already knew so well.

Hank was a man who valued control and simplicity and she certainly hadn't brought any of that into his life. Sure, they connected physically, but she couldn't blame him for not wanting her permanently in his life. Not with the chaos she'd brought with her.

And she had emotional baggage. A full set and then some.

But oh how she'd hoped. For what, she wasn't even sure. But somewhere deep inside her she was still the same woman who'd dreamed of having a family of her own, a mate who'd love her and put her first. Always. Instead, she'd gotten Brian.

A shudder shook her entire frame and she tightened her arms around her knees, trying to draw strength and warmth but the cold still permeated through her.

"Chrissten?"

She jumped out of the chair. Her feet tangled in the blanket and she almost took a header. She quickly righted herself, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone. I'm sure you don't need me around as a reminder of what you've been through." She hurried toward the door. She had to get out of here before she did something stupid, like burst into tears.

"Wait." His voice was hoarse, the tone urgent.

She almost didn't stop. She couldn't deal with his rejection. Not now. Maybe when she was stronger. But the sound of rustling blankets had her whirling around.

The idiot was trying to sit up. The covers had slipped to pool at his waist. One of his cuts, an extremely deep one, broke open and started to bleed again. She hurried to the bed and put her hand on his bare chest. "What are you doing? Lie down before you have all your gashes bleeding."

"You have to know I'm not sorry for killing Brian. I'll kill anyone who threatens you." His expression was fierce, his eyes a reddish glow. He was very close to changing. "I should be strong enough to let you go. But I'm not. I'm selfish." She should have been scared to death of this fierce, growling male. Instead a sense of contentment welled up inside her.

"But you can't want a reminder of the violence, of the killing. You put that behind you when you left the military."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you know about that?"

She stroked her fingers over his chest, unable to resist the broad expanse of flesh and muscles. Already the cut he'd ripped open had started to close again. She was so grateful for his ability to heal swiftly. Another day or two, at most, and he'd be back in top form.

"Not much. Meredith told me a little because I wouldn't stop bugging her." She'd wanted to know everything about Hank, but she shouldn't have pried. "I'm sorry for that, but I was concerned about how all this violence might affect you."

Hank grabbed her hand and tugged her down until she was sitting on the side of the bed. "I'm proud of the way I served my county. I don't regret a single thing I did. But that's behind me now. This pack is my family. I'll protect all of them with everything I have."

Of course he would. She'd known Hank was loyal and courageous. But her heart sank a little at being lumped in with the rest of the pack. She'd hoped she was special to him. Wishful thinking. What did she have to offer him? She was homeless, jobless and had a lot of emotional stuff to work through. In short, her life was a mess.

"But you." He rubbed her fingers, sending little shivers of pleasure rushing up her arm. "You're everything to me."

Her heart stopped beating for a split second and then took off like a runaway train. "What are you saying?" She was almost afraid to speak, to breathe.

"I'm saying that I want you. Think about it. I won't rush you. I know you've been through a lot. Maybe you'll never be able to trust a male again. But if you can, I want to be that man. We're both half-breeds. We understand what it's like to walk with a foot in both worlds. I'll protect you. Always."

Not exactly the words she was hoping to hear, but close enough to give her hope. She loved Hank. She'd had some long, dark hours sitting by his bedside while he'd labored for breath as his punctured lung healed and the multitude of gashes on his body began to close. She loved him. When Brian had attacked him that final time she'd known. When she'd thought Hank was going to die her entire being had rebelled against it.

"Think about it," he whispered. "In the meantime, come and rest." He shoved back the covers and patted the mattress beside him.

Chrissten glanced at the door and back at the bed as she toed off her canvas sneakers. She wanted to be with him, to lie next to his big warm body and listen to the sound of his heartbeat.

Hank's expression didn't change. She sighed, knowing she might be making a huge mistake if her brothers came looking for her but knowing there was nothing else she could do.

She knew both her brothers would tell her it was much too soon for her to even think about getting into a relationship with another wolf, that she needed time to recover from her ordeal. They'd want her to themselves for a while and wouldn't want to share her with another male.

She'd given herself all the same arguments in the long hours she'd sat next to Hank's bed, but none of them mattered. Her heart didn't think it was too soon. She'd deal with Quinn and Craig when the time came.

For now, she wanted to lie beside Hank and celebrate the fact they were both alive. He was still healing and she was totally exhausted from worry. They both needed rest.

He drew her into his arms and she used his shoulder for a pillow. "Am I hurting you?" That was the last thing she wanted to do.

"No, baby, you're not hurting me." He ran his fingers through her hair and let out a deep sigh of contentment.

She rested her hand over his heart, feeling the steady thud against her palm. It was a strong reminder they were both alive and on the road to recovery.

"Sleep," he told her.

As much as she wanted to stay awake and talk, exhaustion weighed her down. She hadn't slept much last night when they got home or today for that matter. A short nap wouldn't hurt.

As she was drifting off to sleep, she thought he whispered to her but she couldn't make out the words. She waited for him to say something else but he was quiet. She sighed and let sleep claim her.

Chapter Eighteen.

Chrissten came awake to the feel of a man's hands on her, and not just any man, but Hank. She blinked and could make out the pale light pouring in through the window. They'd slept through the rest of yesterday and all night long.

She turned her head on the pillow and was pleased to find it no longer hurt when she moved. In fact, she felt good. Better than good. And sometime while she'd been sleeping Hank must have removed her jeans and socks, leaving her clad only in her panties and top. She must have been totally out it not to remember that.

He was staring at her, his pale blue eyes shining in the morning light. "How are you feeling?"

She curled her toes and tugged the blankets closer around her. She was warm and content and her head no longer ached. "Good. You?"

"Much better." His voice was a sleepy rumble that vibrated through her. He continued to rub his hand up and down her spine. She arched into it like a drowsy cat. His touch was soothing. Healing.

She pushed back slightly so she could study his chest. The thick cuts were mostly healed and the rest were nothing but scars. They were reddish in color, but she knew within a week they'd fade to almost nothing. In a couple of months they'd mostly disappear. He might have a few reminders of the ordeal they'd been through, but nothing too bad.

Chrissten reached out and touched a five-inch scar on his shoulder. He groaned and she jerked her hand away.