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Colter glared at me, and for a moment, the tension in the room grew, but he wasn’t going to fight me on bringing up his dad. It had always been a sore point, but he was more serious about what he was trying to say.
“I’m not here to be a dick. I’m here because it’sdangerous, Rory. If you’ll just come home with me, we’ll—”
“If you wanted me to see reason, you shouldn’t have barged into my place, sent someone to spy on me, and scolded me like a child. You know me better than that.”
Colter snapped his mouth shut, and a lot of different expressions crossed his face. Finally, he clenched his jaw, and his eyes became dull. He wasn’t my friend right now, he was just my alpha. He was pissed off at me.
Well, the feeling was mutual.
“So, you’re not coming, then.” A statement, not a question.
“I’m not done here yet.”
Colter pursed his lips, but nodded curtly. He turned toward the door but stopped himself.
“Be very careful what you’re doing, Rory,” he said. “This isn’t a game. If you’re going to shift your loyalties away from me—”
“You know that’s not what this is,” I cut him off.
“You can’t have more than one alpha.”
I glanced toward the cocoa that was getting cold.
“Maybe not, but I thought I could at least have more than one friend,” I said softly.
Colter didn’t answer me. He marched out of the house without another word, slamming the door so that I jumped. I heard the car squeal out of the driveway a moment later, and I stood in the wake he’d left behind.
This wasn’t just about loyalty and love. This was about so much more. It was about sacrifices. It was about choices.
All that aside, though, I wasn’t staying here as a giant fuck-you to Colter, to show him he couldn’t tell me what—or who—I could do.
Something was going on, and I wasn’t going to leave until I figured out what the hell it was.
18
BISHOP
Iput the whiskey decanter and tumblers out on the bar and waited. At eight on the dot, the guard let the Rowe car onto the property, and a moment later, the sleek white vehicle stopped in front of the door. The driver jumped out and opened the back door for Dario. Turk got out on the other side.
“It’s good to see you again, Bishop,” Dario said with flare, holding out his hands like he wanted to embrace me. I got so pissed off at his theatrics sometimes, but I forced a smile and held out a hand instead.
He shook it eagerly.
“Turk,” I said, shaking the younger shifter’s hand, too. “Come in, come in.”
They followed me to the bar, and we went through the motions, pouring whiskey and making small talk about the weather and the news.
We sat down around the bar—Dario and Turk on one side and me behind it—and Dario cleared his throat.
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
I nodded. “Let’s.”
“I take it you’ve had enough time to think about our offer,” Dario said. As if his offer was something that would fucking benefit me.
“Yeah.” I tilted my glass, glancing at the amber liquid inside of it. “I’ve decided against letting Turk mate Rory.”
Turk was angry immediately, the heat of his rage brushing against my skin like a hot desert wind.
