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A sultry, gut-clenching moan freezes my bare feet to the plush carpet runner.
Right. The monkey sex.
I was angry enough to forget.
A door whips open down the hall, and for a heart-stopping moment, I wonder what I’ll do if they ask me to join. But the man who stalks out looks more likely to slit my throat than give me a ticket to the sexcapades.
“What are you doing?” Jett advances, and my brain struggles to layer the boy of my memories over the sneering demon who might kick me down the steps.
The urge to shrink and hide is strong, but I’m done giving in. I force myself to stand straight, to not show Jett the smallest flinch. “I need to talk to you.”
“Atlas…” Orion’s muffled moan turns the air to plasma.
My nostrils flare, and heat trickles between my legs. Please don’t perfume.
“Make it quick.” Jett moves fast, almost jumping back inside his room.
Guess I’m not the only one who can’t handle the soundtrack.
Especially now that I know exactly who to picture having fun. Orion and Atlas are playing solo.
I scamper after Jett, eager to put a solid door and a few padlocks between me and the moans that stroke my insides like velvet.
Jett directs me into his office. My first deep breath swaddles me in the scents of both him and Orion, cedar and cider.
I swallow, and my heart beats too fast, too aware that Jett and I are all alone in an enclosed space.
Like all those years ago.
“Why did you stop visiting me?”
He goes so rigid the only tell he isn’t a statue is the sharp glitter of hate in his dark eyes. “You can leave if that’s what you came to ask.”
The dismissal stabs one of the few soft spots left inside me.
I never meant anything to him.
I know I need to get a grip, to stop whining and keep moving. It’s not the first time someone I love has decided to hate me.
But this one hurts.
JJ was my only oasis in hell.
“That’s not why I’m here.” I shake off the ghosts, ignoring the feeling of rot in my lungs, the heavy, dense rejection that rolls around my belly like tacks in a tumbler.
“Well?” A muscle strains in his cut jaw.
“Craig. He’s being creepy. But not usual creepy. Scary creepy.”
“Our pack’s security isn’t your concern.” The coldness in his voice hits like a punch from a six-fingered fist.
I’m good at taking hits, but I don’t have to keep taking them from an asshole who can’t get over himself long enough to protect his own mate.
A fire lights my belly when I remember how Craig cornered us in the kitchen, and the hungry, scary way he keeps staring at his omega. “I don’t care if it’s not my business. I don’t feel safe with him and neither does Orion.”
“Orion would’ve—”
“No he wouldn’t.” It takes all my balls to cut off an alpha, especially when his irritated dominance rolls over me, trying to make me bow, but I’m the sword of fucking justice tonight, and I’ve seen enough of this pack to know how they work. I want to believe that the Jett who had my back at the party, the one who ran Noelle out of the room, will do the right thing, even if he’s set on hating me forever. “You guys don’t tell each other shit.”
