Even I don’t use her name.
“Her name is Grace Harper,”
he continues, frowning at cach Lycan in turn.
“Remember it well.”
Every molecule in my body wants to snap at them to keep her name out of their filthy mouths, and I wonder if Fenris is manipulating my emotions again.
No, it’s just you.
Jack-Eye, oblivious to the rage simmering in my veins, turns back to me with a frown.
“You’re holding her captive when she’s clearly Brax’s victim. Why are we still holding her here? We should be escorting her to the nearest human city.”
The fire of rage is replaced with ice with his words. My fingers tighten against each armrest, wood splintering beneath the force of my grip.
“I am still investigating. There is always the possibility she forced her way into the pack.”
It’s a flimsy excuse, and I know it. They do, too, judging by the way they’re staring at me.
Just admit it.
“I know Fenris wants her, but it doesn’t seem so one-sided to me. You’re feeling it too, aren’t you?”
(2
The other Lycans stir, it’s clear none of them know what Jack-Eye’s implying, and I want it to stay that way.
“Enough.”
But my beta has never been one to respect boundaries. He’s more of a bulldozer than a wolf.
“Alpha, is there really a fated connection between you?”
“Impossible,”
Dylan snaps, and the others echo his sentiments.
“Humans are unable to form a fated connection,”
Reggie agrees with a scowl.
“Brax tried to claim. that human bitch as his fated mate to justify her kidnapping, but in the end it was proven fake, wasn’t it?”
“Technically, the Council of Alphas agreed it was impossible to form a consensus,”
Jack-Eye says, his eyes never leaving mine.
“And Fenris has a clear draw toward the human girl. He’s been protecting her this entire time.”
The room descends into chaos as my Lycans argue among themselves, their growls and voices setting my teeth on edge.
“Fated bonds are between wolf souls,”
Dylan says, pointing in the general direction of the human girl’s room.
“She has no wolf. Humans can’t be a fated mate!”
Fenris growls, and the burn of my tattoos intensifies. A dull ache spreads across my chest.
“High Alpha.”
Reggie’s voice cuts through the noise. The others fall silent as he steps forward, chin raised in challenge.
“We need an answer. Is the human girl truly your fated mate?”
Tell them, Fenris demands. I’ve already accepted her as ours. Why can’t you?
Scowling, I hold Reggie’s stare, letting out a flare of alpha dominance. It’s enough to take the wind out of his sails, and his chin lowers.
“My choice of mate isn’t up for debate.”
You’re avoiding the question again.
“Any delegates who come to protest will be informed that the rightful successor of Blue Mountain Pack remains alive and in power”
The words come out from between gritted teeth as I picture that blond pup-tall, muscular, with perfect features. His scent lingers in my memory, wrapped around her like a claim.
“The Lycans haven’t seized control, so there should be no issue.”
“And the human?”
Dylan asks.
“There are questions that need answers regarding Brax’s decision to harbor a human in his pack. Her role remains… unclear. Until we determine the full scope of this situation, she stays under our protection.”
Liar.
Reggie’s face contorts.
“It’s a disgrace for Lycans to guard a human.”
Murmurs of agreement ripple through the room, the sound grating against my nerves like sandpaper. I felt the same just two days ago, but the memory of her injured wrist has my jaw locking tight enough to crack teeth. The girl needs protection. More than that, she needs to stay locked in her room. For her own safety.
“We’ve already assigned Blue Mountain Pack members as her guards so we could all be here,”
Jack-Eye points out.
“They’ve been thoroughly warned about keeping their hands to themselves. We’ll just continue this way.”
The thought of those wolves-any wolves not under my direct control-near her sets my blood boiling. But my subordinates’ shoulders relax, their faces showing relief at this solution. Sighing, I wave my hand at Jack-Eye.
“Do that, then.”
My stomach is gnawing itself to death.@
I press a hand against it, willing it to calm down as I resume pacing the perimeter of my room. Seven steps along the wall. Turn. Five steps across. Turn. Seven steps back. Turn. Five steps to the door.
I crack it open for the fifth time in twenty minutes.
The Blue Mountain shifter stands at attention, back rigid as a plank. He doesn’t even twitch as I peer around the edge of the door. His eyes remain fixed forward, as if I’m nothing but a breeze passing through the hallway.
I close the door with a sigh and press my forehead against the cool wood. My stomach clenches painfully. The mountain of breakfast from earlier features in my regrets, I should have stuffed my face while I had the chance. Or at least taken some with me.
Another cramp twists my insides. Decision made.
I yank open the door, determination straightening my spine.
“Hey! I need-“
My words die as I nearly collide with a broad chest. Not the Blue Mountain guard. The Lycan King himself stands before me, his hand raised mid-knock, a tray balanced perfectly in his other palm. The scent of lasagna and garlic bread makes my mouth water in the most unbecoming way.
His eyebrow arches, storm-gray eyes assessing as they rove over me. I take an instinctive step back, which is apparently Lycan for come on in because that’s precisely what he does.
Rude.
Then again, he made it oh-so-clear I’m his prisoner, so can I really complain?
He kicks the door closed with his heel without looking, his gaze never leaving my face.
“Are you comfortable?”
he asks, setting the tray on my bed.
I eye him suspiciously. Personally delivering food and asking about my comfort? His behavior is on a rollercoaster again.
“I’m fantastic, thank you.”
His jaw tightens.
“You’re not.”
“I just said I am, though?”
He grunts.
“Your boyfriend will be instated as Alpha tonight.”
O already know that, thanks to Andrew.
“I’m sure he’s happy about it.”
Another grunt, and he hasn’t moved from the side of my bed, effectively cutting me off from the food.
My stomach begs me to dive for it, but I wring my hands together, digging my nails into my skin to keep my composure.
“Did you need something else?”
His eyes land on my linked hands.
“How is your wrist?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.