Page 6 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
“I’m aware.” I toss Thea’s framed photo with the human into Akila’s box. “But choosing between the exposure of our existenceto humans or killing the friend of our pregnant Luna is above my paygrade. Let Alpha Xander decide what to do with him.”
When I turn around, Branson has two potted plants in his hands. “What are you doing?”
“Commander, may we take these?” he asks thoughtfully. The plants appear surprisingly healthy given how long they’ve been without their owner.
“They weren’t on the list—” I start to protest.
“Our Luna likely assumed they died after her departure,” he explains. “The fact that this human kept them alive all this time... She would appreciate the gesture.”
I sigh heavily. “Fine. Take the damn plants too, but put them in the box. You have to carry the human. Let’s just get the fuck out of here.”
Akila rearranges Luna’s belongings carefully before gathering the box into her arms. Branson effortlessly hoists the unconscious human over his shoulder like a bundle of wheat.
A growl starts low in my throat, possessive and entirely unwelcome. I stifle it before it can surface.Why does it bother me to see another wolf’s hands on him?
I should be annoyed we’re bringing this human complication back to Clarion, yet my wolf goes still and smug, satisfied in a way I refuse to examine. I shut her out.
This is political self-preservation. Nothing more.
Once we get back to Kortan, he’s Luna Thea’s problem. Her human, her headache.
Chapter 3 — Ethan
Fuuuuccckkkk. . .
A searing pain rips through my head. I groan as I open my eyes, rolling over amid the faint smell of hay and damp earth. I flinch, looking down at the stiff mattress I’m lying on.Where the hell am I?
I reach up and touch my aching jaw. I look around at the dirt walls glistening with moisture and the iron bars a few feet from the edge of the bed. The musty scent of earth and decay fills my nostrils as cold air seeps through my clothes. Distant howls echo through the stone corridors beyond my cell, and whatever calm I had evaporates immediately.
“It’s about time you woke up.”
The woman the others called Commander sits in a chair a few feet away, legs crossed, her eyes boring holes into me. I suck in a deep breath. Even under these bizarre circumstances, my mind reminds me that she’s possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. The harsh lighting of this cell should make anyone look terrible, but somehow it only highlights the perfect anglesof her face, the fullness of her lips, and the raw intensity in those eyes.
My hand flies to my neck as I remember how she held me against the wall, her nails (were they nails?) digging into my skin as her eyes seemed to turn amber-gold. She had been wearing dark, form-fitting clothes earlier. Now, she looks more relaxed in a uniform tunic and pants with leather straps and metal rivets down the sides. The outfit should look utilitarian, but on her, it only emphasizes the dangerous curves of her body.
Though there’s no joy anywhere in her expression, I can see fragments of softness underneath the hard persona she’s putting on. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and an errant thought whizzes through my mind, picturing her with it down instead.
My head starts to throb again. I rub my temples to soothe it. “Did you get the plates of the truck that hit me?” I say. “I’m pretty sure your thug gave me a concussion.”
“The healer said you’ll be fine.”
The what?
“You’re lucky I’m tougher than I look. A lesser man might be dead.”
“Trust me. If he wanted you dead, you would be.” She doesn’t smile when she says that, and it sets me on edge. “He’s actually the reason you’renotdead.”
She’s as serious as a heart attack. No doubt, she’s here on business and business only. I take in her upright posture complemented by her hands clasped around one knee.
Hmm. She’s trying to show authority.
“So, what am I doing here?” My skin prickles every time she shifts in the chair. It’s odd. Exciting, even. “Actually, better question. Where ishere?”
“I’ll still be the one asking the questions,human.”
She shifts in her chair slightly again, showing a small crack in the wall of her control.Uncertainty? Fear?There’s definitely something off.
I should be using these tells to my advantage, but I keep getting distracted by the way her long eyelashes flutter before she scowls at me or how a stray strand of hair has fallen across her forehead. I want to reach out and brush it back, which is absolutely insane, given my current predicament as herhostage. That sounds way sexier than it really is.
