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Holy shit.
They’re stealing lines from my vision board.
“Yeah,” Dutch snarls, “So fuck off.”
“You already said that.” Bishop gives him terry cloth side-eye.
“Then why are they still here?” Dutch circles my belly button with his thumb “Throw down or go away. I got cake to eat.”
In the first sign of life since the time-before-the-bite, my pussy flutters.
Love them.
Always have, always will.
Even if they’ll never be mine.
Bridget wrenches her glare to her preferred target. “These lies aren’t doing your cause any favors.”
No? They’ve worked ’til now. “I kept my promise. I stalled for time and stopped Nikolaj from leaving town. Now I have a pack and—”
Before my mouth can run with the fantasy, corn syrup perfume punches my palate.
“What the hell?” Reese pinches his nose, Dutch whines, and I lose my everlovingshit and the last of my dried-up, leftover fucks.
It’s one thing handing the guys to their real, fated, scent-matched mate.
I’d rather shoot Serafina’s pheromones into my oozing eyeballs than let my mother charm them with her scent. A snarl ratchets out from my soul. “They’re mine.”
“That’s your attitude?” Bridget purses her lips.
This is where I’m supposed to apologize and salute.
To offer my hands and ankles and let her march me home to prison in cuffs.
I’m done playing nice.
I’ve been done, no matter what it costs to disobey.
“You want to find out whose pheromones are stronger?” My throat pulses.
I’m ready to compare.
The agents who always sneer at me, smug and superior, go nothing but grim.
Monster-Sol is delighted.
“You’ll regret this,” Brandon says, reading straight from his cartoon villain script.
“Nope. But you might.” My pheromones whirr, desperate to cut loose ends.
Elyse twitches.
Loving her flinch, I make a gimme motion. “Give me the cuffs.”
“I don’t take orders from freaks.” Elyse’s tone is pure mean girl, but the clink of metal gives away her nerves.
Air hisses through Jin’s teeth. “And we don’t take insults to our mate.”
