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“Are you fucking shitting me?” Kellan hissed, his hands flexing into fists at his sides.
Crew hissed out a breath. “Motherfucker.”
The tension in the room ratcheted up several notches, and I whimpered in response. Three angry alphas all turned to me.
“Stay here, little one,” Crew ordered in a gentle tone. His gaze skipped over my head to Jude. “Stay with her.”
Jude nodded as the alphas turned as a unit and stormed down the stairs, leaving a big, gaping hole in the serenity of my nest.
I clenched my teeth, shoving down an unhappy noise of complaint as I looked at Jude. “Who’s Martin?”
He sighed, his emerald eyes glittering with annoyance that dissipated when they landed on me. “Alaric Martin. He’s our boss.”
“Why would he come here?” I asked.
Jude sighed heavily. “Because we went rogue when we rescued you.”
Alarm ripped through me. “What?”
He winced. “We didn’t exactly have the FBI’s approval to hit the compound.”
“Why not?” I gaped at him.
“Because we didn’t ask.” Jude shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Then why did you come?”
His mouth flattened. “Because I told the pack Donovan was planning on mating you. We made the decision to move immediately.”
They’d broken the law… for me. “Jude?—”
“Don’t, Hazel,” he cut me off, the look in his eyes as commanding and sure as any alpha’s I’d ever seen. “We made the right call, and we’ll deal with the consequences. It was worth it. You are worth it.”
Well, hell. What was I supposed to say to that?
32
Rhett
Alaric Martin wasn’t one of the biggest alphas I’d ever met, but he was one of the most arrogant. And, considering my childhood, being raised amongst the Peerage of England, I was well versed in arrogant assholes who used their titles and bank accounts like weapons.
Martin didn’t hold a formal title the way one of my fathers, the Duke of Aracossa, did, but the man sure carried himself as though he did. As he glared at my pack like we were unruly children, I had the urge to slam my fist into his smarmy face.
“I have half a mind to have you all dragged to Washington to face the Director and explain in person why you think you have the right to supersede orders,” Martin hissed. His beady black eyes bore into Crew. “You call yourself a leader? An alpha?”
Crew folded his arms over his chest, looking utterly bored by this entire confrontation—a ruse that did the trick by making Martin even more apoplectic. “We learned there was an omega in danger, sir. Would you have had us leave her there?”
Martin’s meaty hands balled into fists. “The omega was not your concern. Your mission?—”
“We’re aware of the parameters of our mission,” Crew snapped, losing his patience.
Frankly, I was stunned Crew had lasted this long. When Martin had stormed into our home and demanded answers from the pack, I’d half expected Crew to throw the man out on his ass.
“Then you’d know that a fucking omega wasn’t the mission!” Martin roared. “Your orders were to watch the APA and note any suspicious shipments of weapons. Did you even bother looking for weapons on your unsanctioned raid? Or was it all about getting your knots wet?”
“Watch it,” Crew warned, throwing out an arm to stop Kellan from lunging at our boss and irrevocably fucking up all of our lives.
Martin inhaled, his nostrils flaring as a smirk stretched across his thin lips. “Am I wrong? Or has one of you taken up a baking habit?”
