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Malix
I stareat Amora as she glares at the crowd like a righteous goddess, feeling impressed, shocked, and a little fucking turned on.
“You don’t know anything about these men,” she snaps, her voice as hard as diamond and everything about her just as gorgeous. “Most of you haven’t even seen them in years. You don’t know where they’ve been or what Quinton has done to them. You don’t get to sit there on your fucking pedestals and act like you’re better than them because of something a madman did to them against their will.”
I didn’t realize the silence could get even quieter than it was during Felicity’s speech, but clearly, I was wrong. Even the wind seems to die down and shut up in the face of Amora’s fury, like she’s some kind of earth spirit screaming at the wolves to fuck around and find out.
“If you’re going to further the divide forced on them by Quinton, then you’re no better than that asshole,” Amora finishes, pointing a finger menacingly at the gaping crowd. “So either get your prejudices out of your heads and accept the fact that these men can help you, or leave and let the adults talk.”
In the stunned silence after her tirade, Amora glares around the crowd as if daring someone to say anything else. I know without a doubt that if one more fucker opens his mouth, he’ll find out just how hard she can punch.
Damn, that shit is hot as hell
I've known since day one that Amora is the most stubborn and strong-willed woman I’ve ever met in my life. But seeing her be all tough and take-no-shit, especially in defense of me and my brothers, makes me want to throw her over my shoulder caveman-style and take her back to the cabin for an all-day fuckfest.
How does a woman become that beautiful and that badass, all at once?
A few nearly silent mutters filter through the crowd, but no one actually speaks up.
Probably scared for their damn lives. I would be too.
I twist in my seat and glance back at the crowd, surprised to see that many of them look a bit chagrined. Many of them avoid looking at Amora, and a few even look kind of impressed.
Seeing the other wolves back down in the face of her anger makes my cock twitch.
That’s my badass woman.
My mate.
As I turn around to face the platform again, I realize that for the first time, I just thought of Amora as my mate. My actual mate, not just some kind of abstract or “ex-mate” from the potion. The idea of her belonging to me feels right. My wolf agrees with a small, possessive growl.
Honestly, I’m grateful as fuck that the potion Erik made for us didn’t work. Halle-fuckin’-lujah for useless-ass witches. I don’t know what he did wrong or why it didn’t break the bond the way we hired him to do, but I’m not sorry Amora is still here. Still with us.
That means she’s in danger, you idiot, a little voice in my head reminds me.
The reminder stings. As shitty as breaking the bond with Amora felt, we did it for a reason. We did it to save her, knowing that embracing the connection between us would doom her to death.
I felt like an asshole leaving her behind on that mountain underneath the Tree of Life. But maybe I’m being more of a selfish asshole now. Because even though that fucking witch’s vision still hangs over our heads, I don’t think I can let her go a second time.
Felicity picks up the thread of conversation again, but I’m barely paying attention anymore.
All I can think about is the seer who told me and my brothers that we would destroy our mate.
That kind of puts a damn damper on the pleased adoration I’m feeling toward Amora. My beautiful, badass woman can’t exactly keep being beautiful and badass if she’s six feet under because of us.
No. Goddammit, no.
I refuse to believe that her death is the only possibility, the only outcome. She’s too precious to us. There has to be a way to keep her close and keep her safe. All three of us would do anything to protect her.
We just have to figure out what that anything entails.
Shaking myself out of my spiraling inner thoughts, I refocus on what’s being said as the discussion continues around me. I know this shit is important, after all, and I’m not gonna be the reason this mission fails.
After Amora’s outburst, things in the meeting go much smoother. It’s agreed upon that we’ll execute Felicity’s original plan, since it’s good as is, and we’ve got all the moving parts we need to pull it off.
When it’s decided that we’ll head out toward Blood Moon pack lands today, I do my best to stifle my groan. I know we can’t really afford to wait, but damn. I really wanted a chance to just chill for once. This constant racing all over the country used to be my daily grind, but now that we’ve got Amora, I just want to slow down.
Enjoy my life a bit.
Enjoy her.
But I won’t get that opportunity right now, despite a burning need to throw a temper tantrum like a fucking kid. Somehow, I don’t think kicking the ground and screaming that I’d rather stay here and fuck my girlfriend for three weeks straight would convince the pack to hang back for a while.
Felicity equips us with supplies for the journey—nice backpacks meant for wolf carrying, better clothes for being seen in public, and an assortment of necessities like first aid kits and reusable water bottles. It’s probably the most supplies we’ve ever carried on a mission, and it feels like a good omen. Not just being prepared, but having Felicity so openly give it all to us.
She’s as invested in this mission as we are.
We set out before lunch. We’re a big crowd—over twenty Silver Crest members will be coming for the skirmish with Quinton’s pack, and all of them are big, muscular, trained in combat both in human and wolf form. Turns out, Felicity’s been building an army for years, and I can’t say I’m surprised to find that out. Of everybody in Quinton’s past, she knew firsthand where he was headed, and she prepared accordingly. Which is going to turn the tides well for us, I think.
We cross the Colorado state line on the second day, moving at a fast pace. Frost is feeling much better, so he’s able to keep up more so than when we were on our way to Silver Crest lands. That means we can sprint for periods of time, which shaves days off our journey.
I notice by day three that the Silver Crest pack is giving Amora a wide berth. I’m used to being the outsider—me and both of my brothers. But Amora isn’t someone I would expect to be shunned. She’s smart, stunningly beautiful, and just the kind of wolf anybody should feel privileged to have at their back. Maybe it’s because she stood up for us. Maybe it’s because she’s more independent, more… hard than most women in the Silver Crest pack.
Different is always misunderstood.
By day four, I bring it up to her.
Hey, have you noticed they steer clear of you? I ask in mind speak, pulling up to run alongside her.
Amora snorts and rolls her grass green eyes before she glances over to meet my gaze. She bares her teeth in a wolfish grimace. Maybe strong women intimidate them.
They follow Felicity.
Strong women who aren’t their alpha, she points out. See, men are ridiculously fragile. You’re all born with this inherent need to be the strongest, fastest, smartest. When you’re faced with a woman who doesn’t fit your mold… you freak out.
I chuckle. I don’t know if it’s that. Maybe it’s more like you don’t fit in.
