Page 45 of Bad Blood Alpha

He added, “Sloan and Caitlyn were next in line for their own cabin, but they said Jenny and I could have ours first. Because of Brandon. Sloan’s a good friend. I always feel bad when my panther tries to kill him.”

Kira shook her head. This crew was such a strange mixture of sweet and terrifying. But there was something about Xander that she liked.

“Thanks for bringing my breakfast,” she said. “I like your house.”

“Thanks.” He climbed down to the lowest level and jumped to the ground, landing lightly on his feet like a cat. He looked up at her. “About Flynn. Remember what I said. Tell him he did good. He likes that.”

Flynn found Kira on the top level of Xander’s tree house, sitting on the edge of the base platform with her legs dangling over the side. She was looking off into the sky, her face dreamy, and he wondered what she was thinking about.

He wondered if she ever dreamed of flying.

She didn’t turn, though she had to know he was there. She was a warrior; she’d always be aware of her surroundings.

He knew he should say something, but all he could see was the curve of her face, the soft place on the side of her throat where she loved to be kissed.

Fuck. He’d told himself he wasn’t going to go there.

Finally she said, “Thanks for the pancakes. I liked the dragons.”

He gave a small huff of laughter. She kept surprising him, this woman. He sat down on the platform, back against the strong trunk of the oak. “It was just breakfast,” he said.

“I still liked them.”

It was probably stupid that it made him feel so good to hear her say it, but it did. Then she went ahead and ruined it.

“I’m sorry. About last night.”

Even though he’d expected it, he still felt something inside him go cold when he heard the words. And he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why?”

She still wasn’t looking at him. “All I’ve been thinking about was myself. How I needed you to make me better. How I was going to use you to heal me, to help me stop hearing the voices and having seizures.”

“Jesus fuck, you were dying,” he said. “You didn’t see yourself last night. I don’t blame you for trying anything that would make it stop.”

Even if she didn’t really care about him. Why would she? They’d just met.

“So you felt sorry for me,” she said.

“Wait, what?” She thought he didn’t care about her? He didn’t know what the hell all he felt for her, but it sure as shit wasn’t pity.

She turned to face him. “Flynn, I shouldn’t have made love to you. I might have already bonded with you past the point of no return. And if we take this all the way...”

“You’d be stuck with a grumpy-ass lion and a fucked-up crew. And that’s not what you want.”

She looked away. “I just—you deserve better.”

Dammit all to hell. He could feel her hurting from here. And it was making his lion crazy.

It was making him crazy.

He was going to bring down a whole raft of shit on himself—he already knew it. But he wanted her to stay. He wanted to fix her. He needed to fix her.

“Look, I suck at this shit,” he said roughly. “I’m the least romantic shifter on the fucking planet. I say what I mean.”

She was gazing at him again, those dark eyes sad and lonely. He couldn’t handle it.

“You want to know the last time I woke up happy?” he asked. “I think I was about ten. I forgot what it even fucking felt like. But I woke up happy this morning.”

Until he’d figured she didn’t want him. Maybe she still didn’t. But she was going to hear this whether she wanted to or not.

“I wanted us to fuck again, slow and lazy. I wanted to see your face when you came, because that was the best feeling I’ve had in I don’t even know when.” He shook his head. “I wanted to fucking make you dragon pancakes and see if they would make you smile. But you just walked away.”

“They did make me smile.” She was smiling again when she said it. And suddenly he wanted to do anything in the world to make her keep smiling.

“And all morning,” he added, “I’ve been thinking that maybe us getting stuck with each other isn’t such a bad thing, if that’s how it works out.” He leaned back against the tree, suddenly unable to look at her. “I’m willing to take the risk, if you are.”

Hell, he’d never be able to do anything but give her everything she asked of him. Everything she needed.

The silence grew, and grew. Fuck. She didn’t want him. She just felt bad about trying to get him to heal her. Why had he thought any different?

Then she crawled over and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe you’re right, getting stuck with each other wouldn’t be so bad. We do have two more orgies left before we have to decide.”

Something coiled tight inside him eased.

He reached over and pulled her around so she was straddling his lap. She put her hands on his shoulders, sliding them over his pecs. It felt good. It felt right.

He brushed a tendril of hair out of her face. “My bathroom’s even bigger and fancier than the one downstairs. And I have plenty of Alexander Grant’s whiskey. How creative are you feeling?”

If he’d known a potential orgy would make her smile like that, he wouldn’t have bothered with the pancakes.