The Golden Rule

Chapter Sixteen: Silverware

ERIC

Slowly, the fog surrounding Eric's mind parted. He struggled back to consciousness as his eyes focused against the light. He found himself inside his house, which twisted his face in confusion. There was a breeze that shouldn't have blown across his face. A chill littered his skin with goosebumps.

He did not remember coming home last night. The last thing he could recall was talking to his father. About what? He didn't know. There was this hazy image of the moon stuck inside his head and then, a feeling of fear dug its ugly claws into Eric's chest.

He blacked out after that.

Eric tried to stand, when a stitch exploded up his neck. He groaned and laid his head back on the floor. He definitely didn't sleep in his bed last night. The amount of confusion circulating Eric's head was infuriating. This wasn't like him. He never even blacked out in college. Not that Eric thought he drank last night, right?

Then, the most wonderful smell trickled up Eric's nose and lined his chest with honey. The smell alone consumed his thoughts. Glancing around, his eyes finally focused on the room and he found himself inside his house. He found himself beside his mate, who was pressed against the back of the couch.

Last night came crashing on top of Eric like he was trapped in the basement of a collapsing building. Eric shot up to his knees as he remembered it all in quick, horrifying flashes. He crashed into his house. He snapped his fangs at James. James. Eric couldn't breathe. He ran his hands up his face, grabbing handfuls of his hair. He almost ripped every follicle out of his head.

"What have I done?" He muttered, scrambling to his feet.

In that moment, James' golden rule slapped Eric in the face. He knew exactly what he'd done. He'd proven James' point.

Without stopping, Eric strode past the broken door and through the threshold, straight into the woods. He shut his eyes, unable to shake the look of horror on his mate's face. Eric made him cry. This feeling of guilt festered inside of him, gnawing and eating chunks out of him. It felt like he was decomposing alive.

He lunged, striking his fist into the nearest tree. A snapping sound sliced through the morning silence. Pain bloomed inside of Eric's hand as the tree cracked, snapping and crashing into the ground.

Eric's shoulders rose and fell, matching his labored breaths. He wanted to take it all back. He wanted to erase last night, but James' face haunted him. The image stayed, burned to his mind. After he controlled his racing heart, he opened his eyes to see the blood trickling out of the splits in his knuckles and the broken tree.

Eric lowered his hand.

He straightened his shoulders.

He had to fix this... maybe not fix. It was broken beyond repair. Now, it was more like picking up the pieces and making things safe again. James was the priority. Eric walked, solemn back into the house. Every step used all of Eric's strength, what he wasn't using to silence his brain.

Eric stopped thinking.

He was a miracle of moving parts. An empty shell that stood over James and carefully, scooped James into his arms. He held James close, feeling James' small breaths graze his neck. Closing his eyes, Eric listened to the rhythm of James' heart. How could he fuck up so badly? What he held in his arms was the most precious thing in the world.

By now, he should have known better. Been better. There was no reason his wolf should have been able to take over like that. Eric should have been in control. Eric... Eric wouldn't be able to take it back. Any of it.