Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
What if it’s not witchcraft? What if I’m just broken?
“I don’t know what the fuck is at play, but I know something is very wrong with me and I need to fucking fix it.”
“We’ll make some calls. We’ll figure it out,” Joel assures. “Tomorrow. We’ll make the calls tomorrow.”
“I need to run,” I declare.
“We’ll-” Linc starts.
“Alone,” I cut him off, and then I’m passing Linc the bottle and kicking my boots off, undoing my fly, ripping my clothes off before sprinting through the parking lot as wolf to head to the woods beyond it.
***
I run for a good hour and when I’m back in the parking lot, I feel a little more centered, a little more myself. Tomorrow, we’ll make calls. Inquiries with witches. It’s a plan and though tonight hasn’t gone the way I had hoped, and I’ve made a shitty first impression on Tyson, at least it’s a plan. Until then, there’s nothing I can do, so I’ll just dig deep and hold my shit together.
I shift back to man where I left my clothes and boots, then dress and head back inside through the back door, which is propped open just a few inches. Tyson and his mate’s scents linger even though they’re not present and I’m relieved that they’ve left. I move over to the bar and grab a drink. My eyes meet with Greyson’s. He’s talking to his father, who gives me a nod and moves away.
“I’m good,” I mouth.
Grey jerks his chin up but then tilts his head with confusion. He’s trying to get a read on me.
I turn my attention to the fact that the younger pack members have cleared out and this has transitioned to the adults-only portion of the evening. Women are dancing. Men are watching. Food, drinks, and music fill the space.
Tyson Savage and his woman’s scents hit me hard a minute later and knowing they’re back, I try to breathe through it, ignore it. I’ve said hello. I’ve made a shitty impression. The best thing I can do is ignore them the rest of the evening. I’ll get myself one more drink, then go.
And then I catch sight of her without him at her side. Her ankle is bandaged but she looks beautiful. Red dress. Dancing gracefully, hair swaying along with those hips as she moves to the music with a couple of our women.
I find myself fascinated by the way she moves as I sip my drink.
I’m thinking about moving with her. Putting my hands to her hips, inhaling her scent at her throat where my mark would be, where I could graze it to remind her who she belongs to.
Brakes squeal in my mind. Because she doesn’t belong to me. She’s not mine. Why am I craving putting my mouth to her throat when there’s already a mark there? His mark.
If I’d scented her first, maybe it’d be mine. If I’d come back with Sean, would I have claimed her? Taken her, marked her, knotted her? Maybe there’s confusion because I’ve been the eldest council alpha. If he wasn’t here, I’d mate next. He was born one day before me. One day. One day or I’d be first alpha. If I were first alpha, would she be mine? If he hadn’t come back when I was out of town, where would I be right now?
I didn’t mate before Riley, which some argued meant the dynamic of our pack had shifted. Without our seven-alpha council, the fact that Riley Savage had found his mate before me, maybe it was all signs pointing to the fact that we weren’t going to be the same pack as we had been for the last six generations.
But if Riley didn’t knot his woman, and it’s crossed my mind this week that we don’t know if that happened. If not, maybe she wasn’t his. Maybe he was just infatuated. None of us has suggested this to Riley and that it even occurs to me should jerk me to reality, because if Riley says he identified his mate, I shouldn’t doubt his word. But I’m doubting everything right now; I’m sinking into a vortex of what ifs.
If I’d come back with Sean… if I were here when she got to the area… I don’t know much about how they met except that she’s been reluctant. And this suggests he found her and identified her as his mate, but what if I’d found her first? Before he marked her. Before he knotted her.
The air in the room changes more than subtly. Static fills my head again and I tear my eyes away from the beautiful blonde in the red dress and meet the eyes of my long-lost co-alpha brother. The man who owns her. The man who is connected to us, who we’ve mourned, but who knows while approaching me that I’m coveting what’s his.