Mated to the Beast of the Wasteland novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25 The Weight of Hil

Chapter 25 The Weight of Him

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The moment Gillian turned to change, the beastmen in the corridor outside flinched as one, stumbling backward as if they’d been struck.

Did we just hear that? No. No, we heard nothing. Our ears have stopped working. Permanently.

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Except for the one supporting Merrick. He couldn’t run. The rest vanished into thin air.

The soldier left holding Merrick wore an expression of profound suffering. Of all the days to be on support duty.

Gillian changed in record time.

When she reached the door and peered through the window, only Merrick and his beastman crutch remained. The others had evaporated.

Good. Fewer witnesses.

She slid the door open.

The next second, a dead weight crashed into her arms.

The soldier had practically thrown Merrick at her, like a hot potato he couldn’t get rid of fast enough.

Merrick’s body slammed into hers, pinning her in place.

“What the-hey! Merrick? You okay?”

Merrick’s eyes were closed. His skin burned against hers.

Maybe it was the core bond between them, but she felt an instinctive pull toward him. Her arms wrapped around his waist before she could think.

“Gillian?”

At the sound of her voice, Merrick’s eyes snapped open.

Those sharp brows, tight with pain, softened the moment they met her worried gaze.

“You’re in Wasteland City. That’s… good.”

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As if afraid of hurting her, he braced one hand against the metal doorframe, the other settling lightly on her

shoulder.

Gillian’s cheeks puffed with irritation. The words she’d been about to hurl died in her throat.

That soldier was long gone. All she caught was a fading echo from the corridor.

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2:52 pm P PMT

Chapter 25 The Weight of Him

saw nothing. I heard nothing. Nothing.”

She thought these beastmen were.even more unhinged than she was.

“Your comrades seem… stressed.”

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“They are.” Merrick’s voice held a faint thread of amusement, as if her diagnosis of “stress” genuinely tickled him.

His hand slid naturally from the doorframe to her other shoulder.

Gillian barely reached his shoulder on a good day. Wrapped in his arms like this, she felt miniature.

Her body went rigid. “Merrick. Can you stand on your own?”

“Sorry, Gillian.” His voice was rough, a little slurred. “I don’t think I can.”

He made a weak effort to pull away. “If I’m too much trouble… just send me to the medical hall.”

Gillian was speechless. Crawl there, you mean?

The mental image was too tragic. She couldn’t.

“Pretty sure no one else in Wasteland City can crack this bio-armor right now anyway,” she sighed, accepting her fate, and slid the door shut.

She hooked an arm around his waist, draped his arm over her shoulder, and became a living crutch.

Her primal core ached at the thought of turning him away. Even her own body was vetoing that idea.

She’d been riding his coattails this whole time. Consider this repayment.

“You sure about this, Gillian?” His eyes brightened, but he managed to look apologetic.

“We’re committed now. Let’s get you inside. Are you hurt anywhere?”

“We were ambushed. High-level tainted beasts. Came out of nowhere.”

Gillian took a step and immediately regretted every life choice that led to this moment.

Great. What did this guy eat growing up? Lead?

She glanced up to find him watching her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Something funny?”

“Nothing.”

Gritting her teeth, she wrapped golden psionic energy around his torso and dragged him forward.

His tall frame, his muscular chest-it all leaned on her, nearly buckling her knees.

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