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The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(93)

Author:Cate C. Wells

I blink up.

He quirks the corner of his lip, ruefully.

“Were you following me the entire time?”

He nods, and then he exhales. “So I guess we’re going where you want today then?”

He props his hands on his hips and surveys the cabins clustered further down the path, resplendent with his usual arrogance and command.

No one’s out and about. At this hour, everyone’s working. He’s not standing like this to impress or intimidate. This is how he stands. The lord surveying his kingdom.

And he just followed at my heels while I tried to walk out on him.

“Maybe we could go back in first, though?” he says. “Get me a shirt. Get you some pants?”

He shifts to his heels and scratches his back as if we’re ordinary folks, settling on our plans for the day. And oh, it’s tempting. To let go. Let this new future carry me away. My wolf is already onboard.

But I’m stuck. And it’s not only because of the hours in the briar patch or Killian’s rejection in front of the pack. Somehow—and I don’t understand, but it’s true anyway—the wound is a lot older than a few days. The hurt goes back to long ago before I can remember. And that doesn’t make sense, but it’s real.

I can admit it now. Every time he touched Haisley or one of the other females, I knew it wasn’t my business, and it was wrong to feel, because I’m not a jealous person—I don’t begrudge people happiness—but it hurt. In the back of my mind, I thought it was because I wanted what I’d never have, and I was ashamed to feel that way. But still. It burned.

It’s too confusing. Too much.

“I don’t want to be your mate,” I say.

“You’re stubborn as shit, aren’t you?”

“Not usually.”

“I am.”

I bend my neck to squint up. Killian’s still surveying his kingdom. He doesn’t look down to meet my gaze.

“Pisses folks off, but comes in handy,” he says.

An elder appears at the bottom of the path. I shuffle a step behind Killian. I don’t have pants on, and I’m standing on the alpha’s porch past lunch time with my hair a knotty mess. Maybe we should get dressed. Figure things out from there.

I can’t solve anything here and now.

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“You do.” He turns and gestures me back into the cabin. “I sent someone to get some of your things from Mari this morning while you were sleeping.” He nods to a bag I hadn’t noticed by a rocking chair.

I grab it and hold it to my chest. “Thank you.”

He shrugs.

“And thanks again for breakfast.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” His voice is gruff like I’ve insulted him.

“I guess we can go to the gym.” We might as well. It’s better than being alone together in this cabin with the nest nearby and the air growing thicker.

Fate, I wish Abertha was here. It’s not like she’d definitely give me answers about what’s happening—she’s way too invested in her mysterious crone persona to give it to me straight, but she might. And I wouldn’t feel so powerless. I’d have a friend who can kick ass.

That’s the worst of this.

Everything I had control over is gone, and I can’t even hide in plain sight, head down, like I’ve done my whole life. Killian’s eyes are on me now. Always.

And I don’t know what to do with that. It’s like a killer lion is really infatuated with you—but not quite in a “wants to eat you” way.

Do you feel scared? Or excited?

“You can have the first shower,” Killian says, interrupting my train of thought. “There are clean towels hanging up.” He jerks his chin down the hall.

I nod and head toward the bathroom, expecting the bond to tighten again, but it doesn’t. It’s slack, almost imperceptible, even when I’m all the way across the cabin, ready to shut the door. I glance over my shoulder and check. Killian’s still standing where I left him, his face is somber, deep in thought.

Even all by himself in the middle of the open floor, he dominates the space. He would look like a king anywhere. A light thrumming begins near the root of the bond, and I quickly turn my back. But not before I see the black band around his wrist.

It’s my missing hair tie.

12

KILLIAN

Una’s surfing the internet, and I’m having a meltdown.

All afternoon, every hour or so, a memory comes back, and I’m lost in my head, twitchy and sweating. She’s scrolling like I’m not over here losing my mind.

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