Chapter 745

"I'll get the kitchen to send the strawberry ice cream she likes," Ben murmurs, feeling utterly useless but thinking that it's better than nothing. He strides for the dumbwaiter.

Rafe doesn't follow. Instead, he just collects the gauze that Jesse dropped and continues dabbing at the wound on Ariel's neck, doing his best to clean it for her.

"You just hang in there, baby trouble," he whispers, leaning close. "We'll take care of you. We've got you now."

Ariel just lays perfectly still. Deep down, Rafe is glad that she's not awake. Because when she does come around? God, but the reality of Luca's rejection is just...

...going to destroy her.

Jackson snarls as Luca's scent gets thicker in the air. He's been running for an hour, chasing him. God, fuck but Grant's fast. If he wasn't, Jackson would have caught him long before now.

But Grant's endurance has nothing on Jackson's.

Jackson snarls and picks up speed, almost tasting that bastard's blood on his tongue.

When Jackson breaks out of the woods he sees Grant, finally, across a field. Grant walks on two feet now, his steps dragging, his shoulders slumped, his head down. Jackson growls and sprints, closing the distance, his teeth bared.

Grant hears him coming - of course he does, Jackson is making no attempt at stealth. Luca spins, snarling, his hands already balled into fists, ready to take on the world. When Jackson is close enough to leap Grant screams his fury aloud into the air, a torrent of sound and misery and abjection. But doesn't move, doesn't even raise his hands to defend himself.

Almost like he thinks he deserves the fate flying towards him through the air. Welcomes it. Has been waiting for it.

At the last minute Jackson shifts in the air, his hand already clenched as he returns to his human body, his fist flying through the air and connecting solidly against Luca's jaw the moment before his feet again meet the ground.

"You fucking bastard!" Jackson shouts, his voice rough with agony.

Luca's whole head snaps hard to the side and he stumbles away, moaning and spitting blood.

Jackson's chest heaves as he advances, raising his fist again. But Luca's faster, as usual, and whips his hands up, hitting Jackson with a three-punch combination that has him stumbling back, blood spouting from his nose.

"Get the fuck away from me, you asshole!" Luca shouts, his words a little muffled by the pain in his jaw, but he brings his hands up in his fighter's stance, ready to go again if Jackson approaches. "I fucking left - isn't that enough!? You had to chase me down and rub it in!?"

"Rub it in!?" Jackson shouts, closing

the distance between them and whipping his whole arm around to hit Luca hard in the shoulder. Luca blocks but still goes stumbling to the side under the sheer weight and force of Jackson's body. They're not boxing, after all - and they both know that Jackson has the advantage when there aren't any rules. "You fucking marked her! You claimed her! My fucking mate!"

"Take her!" Luca screams, still stumbling, exhausted and trying to catch his balance. "That bitch is all yours -"

Jackson roars and steps close, smacking Luca hard in the face with the flat of his hand. "Don't you dare -"

But Luca screams, all the grief and

the fury taking hold of him as he hurls himself at Jackson, blood pouring from his nose as he gets i whatever blows and punches he can, giving Jackson everything henoveldrama

has with no attempt to block or

shield. Just trying to kill, to main, to hurt as much as he's been hurt.

et

Jackson's had too much training for that, though. He takes a few hits, watching for his spot, and then shoves Loca hard when he gets a hand flat on his shoulder, sending him stumbling back a few steps. When there's some space between the two, Jackson whips his foot up and kicks, hard, right in the center of Luca's chest, sending him sprawling.

The wind rushes from Luca's lungs as he hits the ground. He lays in the grass gasping, trying hard to draw breath.

Jackson stalks forward and kneels next to the prone man, a knee on his chest - not hard enough to crush, but heavy enough to be a warning that one move - one single wrong move and Luca's ribcage will be crushed.

"You fucking. Marked. My mate."

With a deepening snarl, Jackson leans in, trying to decide whether he should kill this man now? Or just let him suffer.