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“No!” Lottie practically yells and stands from the couch, putting distance between us. Distance I don’t like.

She was just so open and accepting, and in an instant, I pushed her away. I don’t care if she’s mad at me as long as she's safe and protected within these four walls.

“Yes. It’s the most defensible position.”

“No! I will not have another person making decisions for me, telling me what to do and when. Controlling my every move and life, all under the pretense of protection and what’s best for me. No! Not anymore, never again.

“My mother did it for so much of my life, and I will not let anyone take control again. Every minute I lived under her rule, I felt like I was suffocating, dying slowly under the weight of her thumb. You may think you know me and my life, Hunter, but you don’t. I’m not some pampered princess on a mountain vacation. I ran away from my life. Left without a word and didn’t tell anyone where I was going or for how long, or even if I would ever return. Because that’s the only way I could escape her control. To break free from her tyrannical rule.

“I’m finally in control of my life, my body, and my future. And I will not give it up because some prick with a Napoleon complexwants to throw his weight around to try and strong-arm you into giving up your family land.”

During her speech Lottie began to grow more and more agitated. Fisting her hands and gesturing wildly to emphasize her point. Now she deflates, expelling all her pent-up frustration and anger, staring down at me with wide hopeful eyes. Eyes I can’t look away from, eyes that latch onto my soul and grip tight.

“I will not do that again. Iwillbe going toSticky Bunand the bookstore. I’ll concede to no forest walk, but I will be going into town, and you can come with me or not. But I will be leaving in ten minutes. So, if you want to keep me safe, you’ll be ready to leave when I am, or I’m going alone.”

My mate has claws, and she is not afraid to use them. I hate the idea of her being out in the open for Vincent to get to, but her ferocity and defiance turns me on.

Whatever it is that chose Lottie for me chose well. She has spirit and spine and a determination to be in control of her own life that I admire. An alpha needs a strong mate to put him in his place every once in a while. I suppose that time just came sooner than expected.

A low growl grows in my chest in appreciation for this woman standing firm in front of me. Standing, I encroach on her space, filling it with my body and scent, hoping it does as much to her as hers does to me. When I see her pupils dilate and her throat bob in a swallow, I know it has at least some effect.

“Very well, Nightingale, I will go with you to town. But you must stay in my sight at all times. Am I clear? This, I will not budge on.”

Her shoulders drop, and she puckers her lips. I can tell she wants to argue, but she won’t. She’ll give me this much.

“Very well,” she grumbles. “But you can’t rush me, and I decide when we leave and where we go.”

She points her index finger in my face, and I bend down to nip on the tip, giving her a small growl for good measure.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Lottie steps out of the reach of my pheromones and makes her way to the bedroom to get ready to leave. I watch her ass in those skintight leggings the entire way.

Chapter 25 – Lottie

Blowing up at Hunter and unpacking all that baggage onto him at once was not intentional, but it was necessary. If this is going to work out between us in any way, he better learn right now. I will not let him boss me around. Alpha or not. No one will ever control me again.

Hunter begrudgingly drives us into town, parking on the street directly in front of Sticky Buns. He doesn’t have to say it, but I know it’s to minimize the opportunity for an attack. Keeping the car close and easily accessible for a quick getaway. I’ve been guarded by professionals enough in my life to spot such things. It doesn’t bother me because he’s doing as I demanded.

Sticking close to my side, he leads us into the bakery, opening the door for me and washing me in its heavenly, sugary aromas.

We walk up to the counter and get in line behind a few people already waiting. A few other patrons are sitting at the colorful tables, enjoying their pastries and sweets. I mostly ignore them, reading over the menu and today’s specials, but I can see Hunter’s head swiveling to identify every single person present. His brow furrows when he spots a woman with vibrant red hair sitting alone at a table positioned almost exactly at the center of the shop.

I give her a cursory glance. Curious as to why Hunter would be interested in her. I don’t feel jealousy at his perusal because he doesn’t look very happy to see her, whoever she is.

She has long red hair tied up in a high ponytail. She’s dressed completely in black, wearing a leather jacket that makes her look like a badass. Her dark-lined eyes are sharp and perceptive.

The line in front of us moves, and my attention is drawn away from the mystery woman as I follow the progression.

Should I get another cinnamon roll or an apple fritter? Ooh, maybe a lemon tart. They all sound so good. I wonder if Hunter will think I’m weird if I order all three.

Amidst my internal debate on baked goods, the line has moved up again, and Hunter leans down from behind me to whisper in my ear.

“Order whatever you like and find a table. I need to go talk to my brother outside for a minute.”

I look up to spot his brother Ryder pacing outside the bakery, more emotion on his face than I’ve seen from him. He’s irritated and . . . angry? His hands propped on his hips, and his body changes direction in his pacing, but his gaze remains firmly fixed on the bakery interior. Weird man.