Mate (Bride, #2) (37)
I step back. Gain space. Reset the fight. I can feel the beginnings of bruises blooming under my skin. “How did Koen reunite the pack?”
“He cleaned up. Made promises. Took on and won countless challenges.” She moves forward. Throws a body shot that I slow down with hits to her chest. “I lost my parents and my infant sister in the span of hours.
Do you think I gave a shit about a breakup?” Her strikes become more forceful, and I can no longer parry them. She dives in, shoulders against my abdomen, and forces me to the floor again.
“Fuck.” I try to squirm away, but she’s heavy on top of me.
“The worst part is . . .” We’re both breathing heavily. Her blue eyes bore into mine as she tries to set up an armbar, this time on me. “I wouldn’t have wished this on him.”
“This?” I choke out.
“You.”
My heart drops, even though there’s no cattiness in the word. She’s just sorry, I think. Sorry for Koen, for the way he’s saddled with me, and I’m almost curious enough to ask her why. Brenna, what specifically about me is not full-package material? Because we’re positively besieged by choices here. Is it the fact that I’m a hybrid? That I don’t know how to be a proper Were? That there’s a bounty over my head? That I grew up with a Vampyre?
That I’m unemployed? A snort of a laugh hiccups out of me. Honestly, it’s genuinely amusing, how poor a fit I am for the Alpha of this pack.
Brenna is less than entertained. “I don’t want to be unfair. Your life has been hard. But I hope you will leave soon, Serena. I appreciate that you’re
trying to protect Lowe’s sister, but I hope you’ll know better than to stick around once this is over.”
It would be so easy to snap back, if she was being deliberately rude. But she’s obviously in pain. And too distracted to notice her slackening grip and the opening she’s giving me. I rip my arm free, shift our positions, and swing my legs over her body. Putting pressure on the joint of her elbow, I watch her thrash for a few seconds.
It’s there in her eyes, the moment she realizes that there’s no way out.
“I’m not going to stick around,” I puff out, winded. “I’ll be out of your hair before you can swat me away. And you don’t have to worry about Koen and me. We’re not together. The mate thing has no bearing on our relationship. We’re not secretly in love with each other. We’re not even fucking.”
“Oh, I know.” Her smile is strained. “Believe me, we all know.”
“Good. He explained the situation to you.” I glance up and find him staring at us. At me. If he’s angry that I won, he hides it well. There is a shadow of a smile around his eyes, at the edge of him, that resembles . . .
pride.
I hope what he reads in my wide, smug grin is Guess I’ll be living on my own.
And maybe he does. Because he nods, once, as if conceding that I’m right. I open my mouth to say something obnoxiously victorious— and that’s when I realize that my celebration was premature.
With an explosive burst, Brenna lifts me off her. She breaks free and takes full advantage of my absolute shock to wrap an arm around my neck from the rear, and . . .
“He didn’t need to explain any situation to anyone,” she whispers in my ear. “There are three things I believe with utmost certainty. Death will come for all of us. No matter what, the sun will rise every morning. And Koen is never, ever going to touch you. Not even if you beg him for it on your knees.”
She lets go of me so abruptly, I fall back against the mat, disoriented, dizzy, breathing in big gulps of air. When I open my eyes, Koen is staring down at me, mouth upturned in an unsurprised smile.
“For your sake, killer, you better not leave dirty dishes in the sink.”
CHAPTER 12
Cute, how she thinks he’d ever let her out of his sight.
ILOST FAIR AND SQUARE, SO I FOLLOW KOEN OUT AND KEEP MY mouth shut, gingerly moving my bruised, achy body. Any half-decent guy would solicitously ask whether I’m okay, but that’s clearly not him. He walks ahead, ignoring me, and when he comes to a sudden halt, I nearly bump into his back.
On the hood of his car there is a small parcel, carefully wrapped in brown paper. Someone wrote with a black Sharpie: For the former Human.
Instinctively, I round Koen to pick it up. A second later, I’m airborne: his arm is wrapped tight around my waist; my feet no longer touch the ground. His hand presses into my belly and pulls me closer to his chest.
“Out of curiosity, do you have a death wish, or are you just being sewer-brained?”
I tug at his arm, with little success. I’m still suspended. “Oh, yes, the ultimate suicidal activity. Opening my own mail.”
“Serena, that is not normal.”
“Packages?”
“Packages for half-Human hybrids who are under my protection, and whose existence is under threat by multiple parties.” He shifts forward, aiming his words at the shell of my ear. A shiver travels through my spine.
“Since you appear to need reminding, if some sketchy-looking cumduck pulls up in a white van and asks you to help him rescue his puppy— ”
“Okay, I get it.” He inhales deeply against my back. It’s like we share a single body. “Can you tell who dropped it off?”