The Tyrant Alpha's Rejected Mate (Five Packs #1)(102)

Did he think I was home crocheting all this time?

I mean, I was. A lot. My escapades were few and far between. I wasn’t sneaking off into the bushes after every moonlight swim like his cousin Ashlynn does. No judgement, not from me, but damn, Killian is as big a hypocrite as any male in this pack.

Of course, he is. He’s the alpha. And I got caught up in his scent and his muscles and his growly “mine” bullshit that I forgot that I know who I’m dealing with.

Killian Kelly has always been a caveman, and if I had any pride, I would sit back and watch the Quarry Pack’s version of the Roman Senate try to “et tu, Brute” his ass.

Except accidents happen. Fate is capricious. What if he gets hurt?

I need him.

And—maybe something else.

He did ruin a magical moment back at his cabin. Again.

In the nest, I’d been perfectly content for the first time since I was a very little girl. I was where I belonged. Knotted and held by my mate who belongs to me. My leg hardly ached at all. I’d been lost in a hazy daydream.

I had a family. A place. A person. I had actually been eyeing Killian’s throat. I was going to bite him. I would have if he hadn’t thrown a temper tantrum because we’re not living in the nineteenth century anymore.

But he did.

And then he came back.

And he tried to make amends.

Because despite what he’s about to do to these males, he isn’t a monster.

He’s mine.

And he knows exactly where I am.

Our bond is hella strong now. I can’t shut it off. It’s like a troglodyte newsfeed. Find. Kill. Destroy.

He’s getting closer every second.

I called him when Fallon threw me onto the ATV. I did it without hesitation. Killian will come for me, and he’ll prevail.

He’ll know he’s walking into a trap. This isn’t high quality plotting the Byrnes are doing. It’s about what you’d expect from males who get their heads knocked around for a living.

At first, in the panic of the moment, I worried the bond wouldn’t work, but it’s not delicate anymore. It’s as sturdy as a sweet potato vine. Tender and new, yes, but when I reach out, Killian’s there. All of him. Like I’m a glass bottom boat in his brain.

I don’t think he’s entirely aware. If he was, he’d hide some stuff.

I can see everything. I’m trying hard not to, but it’s just there. And the Byrnes are sitting quietly, picking at their claws, and the other males are squatting, scratching their balls. The silence is jangling my nerves.

I try to stay mad. If I stop for a second, I’m scared. My wolf is not big or strong. She’s no match for any of the males here. Killian is fast, but he’s not supersonic.

I think Fallon would help me if it came down to it, but I can’t believe he got pulled into this nonsense in the first place. He clung to me so much when I lived with the Campbells because he’s the fourth of five kids, and he was pretty much neglected. I bet Eamon and Lochlan paid him lots of attention. Fed him a bunch of garbage. And they’re going to get him killed.

My anger surges, and my wolf grumbles. I swallow the sound. I have to keep cool. Soon enough, everything’s going to go down, and I need to be clear-headed. I need a distraction.

The bond is right there.

Wide open.

I shouldn’t.

But I want to.

I find the cord and follow it, wading through the blare of Killian’s current panic. When I’m all the way in, I peek around, peering into his dark, cobwebby corners. It’s not pretty.

I thought there’d be more backwards thinking, but it’s almost all worry. Like ninety-nine percent premium, high-octane, all-consuming preoccupation.

Is Gael’s left hook weaker than his right? Why is Tye distracted and pissy for no reason? Nuala’s bloodwork came back not looking so great. The heating bill is going up and new windows are expensive, but if he doesn’t lay the money out now, will they only get more expensive? Was the smaller purse last month at Salt Mountain a sign of things to come or just Salt Mountain being cheap?

It goes on and on like a library with endless shelves of unsolvable problems and things he can’t control.

His panic and rage in this moment scream like a fire alarm, but underneath, the vibe is not much better. How does he function this way?

I go searching, poking around for something that’ll temper this new understanding. I don’t want to feel bad for Killian Kelly. He’s a dick. And his wolf’s a dick, too, he’s just a little smoother about it. Making me think he was chill. He’s the one who really lost it back there, going for my neck with his fangs.

Over on the logs, the Byrnes are muttering to each other. The scent of fear is beginning to mingle with the reek of aggression. It makes my nerves jumpier. Scared, panicking animals are more dangerous than aggressive ones.

I calm myself by rooting around in Killian’s psyche, looking for something that isn’t anxiety, but when I find the good stuff, I don’t feel any better.

It’s a new memory. The images set my skin on fire. I’m grateful Lochlan and Eamon have their backs to me.

I can see earlier from Killian’s point of view—my boobs bouncing, my belly jiggling, my fingers furiously rubbing my clit. I look—wanton. Unlike myself. As if I don’t have a care in the world. Like I’m enjoying myself.