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It shouldn’t hurt that her true mate—the other half of her goddamn soul—wouldn’t give one miniscule shit, but it stung nonetheless. It wasn’t about Zaire as a person, just the situation itself.
“If you and Quinley were to enter a mating,” began Harlan, “a year would be given for—”
“Two,” Isaiah cut in.
Harlan blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I want us to be given at least two years to imprint,” Isaiah elaborated. “We’re not just two people who want an arranged mating to work, we’re two people who chose this path because we’ve had to walk away from our true mate—that leaves a mark. We may need more time than the average shifter for imprinting to begin.”
Harlan looked at Quinley. “Do you have an objection?”
She shook her head. “No. Two years is fine.”
Isaiah nodded, satisfied. He would bet that the reason she hadn’t hesitated to agree was that she was in absolutely no rush to return to her pride. By how very easy it would clearly be for her to transfer to his, she’d lost whatever comfort she might have once had in her pride. He didn’t think that was merely due to her true mate’s rejection. This wound seemed older, deeper.
“All right,” said the Alpha before relocking his gaze on Isaiah. “Should you imprint but the bond dissolves, she will of course be permitted to leave your pride and take with her any of her personal belongings.”
“Naturally,” Isaiah agreed.
“Should Quinley expect trouble from your pride mates?” Harlan asked him.
He felt his brow crease. “Why would she?”
The Alpha hummed. “There are some who give you trouble, from what I heard.”
Isaiah went still, knowing exactly what he would have heard. Tate and Deke had clearly reached the same conclusion, because both muttered curses.
Quinley looked up at her Alpha. “What does that mean?”
Harlan scratched his jaw. “Astor became aware that—”
“I was accused of arson and murder by a select number of pride mates when I was a juvenile,” Isaiah blurted out, his gaze on Quinley; giving it to her straight. If she was someone who’d be put off by unproven accusations, it was best he knew now. “To this day, despite all evidence to the contrary, they continue to believe that I’m guilty. They also have no problem voicing this, hence the rumors.”
She didn’t bat an eyelid. “Then they’re dicks.”
A snort popped out of Astor.
She shrugged. “I only speak the truth.”
Isaiah studied her face. She believed him, he realized. She wasn’t just saying it, she meant it. She’d taken him at his word just like that.
A sigh slipped out of her. “I know a thing or two about toxic rumors.”
That hooked Isaiah’s interest right there, heightening his curiosity about her. Even his cat edged forward, intrigued despite himself.
“You don’t believe the rumors are true, do you?” she asked Harlan. “His Alpha would hardly have made him both an enforcer and his personal bodyguard if he was capable of that kind of betrayal.”
“I didn’t say I believed what I heard. I just wanted to know if it will impact you.”
“There’s no reason it would,” Isaiah told him. “Those cats are no longer part of my pride anyway.”
Isaiah moved his attention back to Quinley. He’d always imagined that his mate would be as equally dominant as he was. He’d thought it was what he wanted. But here he was, drawn to this submissive in a way he never had been to any dominant.
She was candid. Decisive. Centered. Didn’t make snap judgements.
All things he liked.
Despite the high-energy vibe she gave off, Quinley was pretty chill and airy. Restful in that way that only submissives could be, making a person feel they could breathe easier.
