He leans in, clearly intending to kiss me.
I freeze, too startled to react immediately. Before he reaches my lips, though, the door to the library slams open.
We both turn our heads to find Lucas standing in the doorway. His expression is murderous. My heart starts pounding despite myself.
“Get out,” he says to Colin, his voice deadly quiet.
Colin steps back from me, his face red with embarrassment, like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Alpha, I’m sorry, I was just—”
“OUT!”
With alpha power behind it, the command echoes through the library. Colin practically runs from the room, closing the door softly behind him.
I press my lips together, also feeling embarrassed. Heat is beginning to creep up my neck. I make a move to walk toward the door, as well, but Lucas turns his furious gaze on me now.
“Not you,” he says, his voice still hard and angry. “Stay.”
I stop midway and face him, lifting my chin. I am not about to be intimidated.
“I didn’t bring you here to make out with my pack members,” he says, each word clipped.
Anger flares hotly in my chest at the implication in his tone—as if I were the one who initiated that almost-kiss. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me defensive. I’m not going to explain or justify or beg for his understanding.
Instead, I let ice creep into my voice, deliberately provoking him. “Well, if my own fated mate can’t get it up when he sees me, you can’t blame me for having to look for better options.”
I regret the words the instant they’re out of my mouth. Lucas goes very, very still.
The next few seconds are a blur. He’s in front of me in three strides, one hand sliding into my hair, the other gripping my waist as he pulls me flush against him and kisses me.
It’s not gentle. It’s fierce, possessive, almost punishing. His mouth claims mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
At first, I’m too shocked to react, but then, I kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring all the frustration and want and anger of the past week into it.
The mate bond surges between us, electric and overwhelming. His hands tighten on me, and I grab his shirt, pulling him closer—
The door opens.
“Lucas, I saw you come in here. What are you doing? The welcome party is well underway. Don’t you think you should—”
We break apart.
Lydia stands frozen in the doorway, her hand still on the knob. The words die on her lips as she takes in the scene—Lucas and me, flushed and breathing hard, my lipstick smeared and his shirt wrinkled from my grip.
The look on her face shatters me. It’s pain. Raw and unmistakable.
And Lucas’s reaction validates the gnawing feeling I’ve had since the first time I heard his name from her lips. Guilt flashes across his features, and he immediately puts distance between us.
Something exists between them. Something significant enough that her seeing us together hurts her and makes him feel guilty.
“I–I’ll just…” Lydia stammers, already backing out the door.
“Stop.” Lucas’s voice cuts through the air. “Stay.”
She freezes, shoulders tensing at the order.
Lucas steps away from me completely, putting half the room between us. When he looks at me, his expression is cold.
“You should leave,” he says.
