He sighs, his big shoulders drooping, as he looks back up at me, assessing how serious I am.
“I’ll only think the worst,” I chide, “and I promise whatever you tell me, I’ll keep to myself.”
Connor swallows heavily and nods then grasps me by the waist, leading me to sit in his lap. My heart flutters with his touch, but I sink contentedly into his arms, something easing inside me being so close.Guess Nolan’s bite is affecting me more than I realized.
I’m starting to think there are magnets in the guys’ fingertips, as Connor idly runs one hand up and down my bare leg while the other holds me securely against him.Mental note: wear skirts sparingly. Suckers are dangerous.
“She…” he trails off, his jaw working as he searches for the right words. “We were… important to each other once.”
“And she’s heard the new rumors?” I supply, cringing. “It doesn’t bother me, but I didn’t think how it would affect you guys. Do you want me to clear it up for her?”
“No,” he answers, an array of expressions running across his features: concern, confusion, humor, exasperation, and a hard edge of protection.
Shouldn’t have mentioned the rumor, I see.
Releasing a careful breath, he utters, “Pack hates witches.”
“Oh,” I murmur, my hands fiddling with the remaining rope in my lap, then I clear my throat. “Can’t say I blame them considering Neva and Gina. You guys weren’t exactly fans until you met me and my aunt.”
Connor’s brows furrow and his lips pinch with a ‘stop defending them’expression. I reply with one of his patent shrugs, and he rolls his eyes.
“Sam hates me because she’s your ex, and you’re choosing to befriend one of the evil witches,” I summarize, and he bobs his head in the universal sign of ‘more or less what you’re saying is accurate.’
For my next question, I need to look into his eyes. I need to see his shadows. He needs to see mine. With both hands, I hold his face, the stubble on his cheeks rough against my skin.
Attempting to keep my voice as even as possible, I whisper, “The Alpha does to you what the Bastard did to me, doesn’t he?”
Tension builds through his body, his grip tightening around me, and as the truth burns in the brittle chips of his amber eyes, he slowly nods his head.
A single tear escapes and drips down my cheek, but I don’t look away. Sorrow crushes me like a wave from a tsunami, and the air freezes in my lungs.
“Why hasn’t anyone stopped him? Why can’t we stop him?” I cry, the words painful as I force them through my constricted throat.
His hand from my leg reaches up to gently wipe the tear from my cheek. With a voice that sounds like it’s been years since he last spoke, he answers, “Only three ways to escape the Alpha: Leave and die. Stay and die. Stay and live.”
“I vote the third choice,” I sniff with a weak smile.
Connor leans forward, my hands sliding around his neck, and he leads my head to rest against his chest. His heart is a loud steady thump in my ear.
Curled around me with his lips near the top of my head, he confesses, “Means killing the Alpha and taking his place.”
My eyes widen, but when I try to pull back to look at him, he stops me, clutching me so close that I’m caged within his grasp. My necklace warms, not against Connor, but with the growing need to protect him. To save him like he’s saved me.
“What happens if someone else…?”
He interrupts before I can finish, his tone fierce, “Don’tReina.Outsiders interfere. The pack kills them… then eats them.”
I don’t remind him that I can’t die, because that’s not the point. It’s why he suffers the abuse. To protect his friends and hold onto the shreds of the life he wants.
With words dripping in venomous outrage, I hiss, “I hate him.”
He doesn’t say anything, instead, he tries to run his hand along my hair. His dislike for the wig is obvious when he starts picking out the bobby pins that are holding it in place and throwing them every which way.
“Stop, stop,” I order, waving his hands away. “I get it. You don’t like it. Give me a second to take it off.”
Making him hold the bobby pins, I do my best to pull them free, getting frustrated halfway through and taking off my gauntlets because they’re also in the way. By the time I’m finished, the only Wonder Woman thing about me is the corseted top and skirt.
Connor is happy though, working my natural hair until it hangs in loose waves down my back, then contentedly breathing in its scent. Well, sneezing when my necklace safely released the excess magic stored inside then contentedly sniffing.
