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“I’ll be territorial the moment you earn it,” Roxy said coolly.
“Earnit?” Eric snorted. “Did we not do that when we chose you over everyone else? You prove yourself to us, not the other way around.”
There was a long silence.
“Don’t… call her a freak.”
Below me, Shatter lifted her head, eyes darting toward the bookshelf, even though we were too far back to still see them.
Eric laughed. “Everyone’sthinkingit. She doesn’t belong here—the Kingsman pack can’t be serious; she’s a fucking spectacle. What was it the North Prince omega was saying? ‘Doubts she even owns a hairbrush?’”
My heart crashed into my ribs, every instinct suddenly on high alert as we heard the scrape of a bag being picked up off the table.
“They’rethe losers?—”
“You won’t let anyone hear you say that!” Eric snapped. “It’s not your place to blow up our relationships with other packs.”
Rapid footfalls indicated Roxy was exiting quickly.
“Roxy—wait…” Eric’s voice trailed off, leaving us in silence.
I realised my fingers had clamped down on Shatter’s waist punishingly tight, but she hadn’t flinched.
That was… viciousness I hadn’t been expecting. It wasn’t right, not even for pricks like them. I may have underestimated the draw of a scent match, even one they didn’t know about.
The Lincoln packdidwatch Shatter with far more interest than I was comfortable with. They were subtle enough that I don’t think she’d truly noticed, but I wasn’t a fool when it came to the scent match.
Gareth was the worst, but Flynn and Eric also couldn’t seem to help themselves, eyes snagging on her when she passed by. I’d seen the darkness in those looks.
The only men in the world so bent on tearing down a woman like that were men with interest they wished they didn’t have.
The Lincoln pack were drawn to her, and they didn’t like it.
The problem, however, was that I believed Shatter when she said she wanted to be friends with Roxy—and clearly Roxy’s friendship was honest in return. But Roxy came with a pack she needed to stay away from.
I cupped Shatter’s chin, but she grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t.” Her voice was thick.
I wouldn’t have it. But what was I supposed to say?
Offer her praise she’s already heard from you?
“Shatter,” I said, forcing her chin up.
“I’m fine.” She swallowed. Right now, she wore that mask I hated, and this time, it hosted a pursed-lip smile that held at bay much worse. Her hands were clasped in her lap, knuckles pale, her rich brown eyes fixed on my collar.
“Your mates?—”
“They’re well off. They have standards. I don’t meet them.”
A low growl rose in my throat. “If this was a competition, they’re a speck onourshoe. You were the only one here that caught our eye.”
I knew, the moment I’d said it, it was a mistake. Too much. I was pushing too hard. She didn’t believe me.
There was a long silence. “They’re not good men.”
“I already know you think that.”
