DECKARD'S POV
Deckard should've grabbed her. He should've held her to his chest and refused to let go no matter who or what protested. He should've dragged her back to the car and driven off to their home where everything felt perfect.
He should've stopped her from venturing into that cave. The Crescent Trials be damned.
But he'd done nothing.
He'd watched like a lifeless bystander as she slipped through his fingers. He could do nothing when she turned one last time to smile reassuringly at him. At them. He stared as the diabolic mouth of the cave swallowed her into its dark depths.
Alpha King Riordan had an official breakfast scheduled with all the alphas but Deckard chose not to be part of it. How could he shovel down food and make small needless talk about boundaries and treaties and moonlight games when his mate suffered a perilous trial?
"How about some tea?" Tristan prodded yet again.
Deckard glared at him but maintained his stand by the window. "Tea?"
