"You hurt me."<br/><br/>The words cut deeper than any insult, because Plum was right. There, on her arm, was a small cut too clean to be from the other wolf's claws. It was his knife that had made it, the one still embedded in the mangled corpse of Fennel Jaminson.<br/>"Sorry." Came his simple reply. Ghost had never apologized to her. There had never been any need. Plum would understand that she had fucked up and been punished for it, and they would move on. It was part of what made her so...enticing. She didn't bullshit around, or get too wrapped up in her feelings.<br/><br/>He supposed he should have been thankful, given that she likely hated him at the moment. He frowned and stood, reaching for the hand towel hanging on a ring above the sink. Gently, he pressed it to the wound on her neck. She likely wouldn't bleed out, but she definitely needed a doctor. A low growl escaped him. He had failed. He'd come to protect his Mate from harm, and she had been harmed anyway. Twice. Shaking his head, He moved one of Plum's arms to hold the towel, and picked her up, holding her so the arm on the towel was pinned against his shoulder and she wouldn't have to hold it with her clearly failing strength.<br/><br/>Ghost took a few steps towards Jaminson, pulling his knife from the corpse and sticking it back in its sheath. It was too late to salvage this whole situation. He probably shouldn't have come. Plum could have handled it herself, or would have called him if she needed him. He chuckled. That damned mark on her neck had fucked everything up.<span style="font-style: italic">He</span>had fucked everything up.<br/><br/>As he carried Plum out of the house, he made only one stop, at an expensive-looking liquor cabinet in the main living room. One...two...three...four...five bottles were thrown around the room, shattering and drenching the places they landed in sweet-smelling booze. Shifting Plum to his other shoulder, Ghost reached out with his right arm, pulling the rest of the cabinet down and stepping away so as not to get the liquid on his shoes.<br/><br/>He sighed, pulling a lighter from his pocket and flipping the lid up. For a moment, he watched the tiny dancing flame and wondered why nothing was ever easy. With a shake of his head, he tossed the lighter onto the run in the center of the room, watching the fabric catch fire slowly then burst into leaping, hungry flames as they found the liquor. Satisfied that this was enough of a blaze to be too big to put out by the time anyone arrived, The White Wolf turned and left, carrying Plum out of the house.<br/><br/>Ghost placed her limp body in the car as gently as he could before climbing in himself. With a roar, the engine started and he began the drive back to HQ.<br/><br/>When he saw the pack of wolves at the end of the drive, watching his car go by, he almost laughed. It was absurd how wrong things had suddenly gone.