Page 118 of Eclipse Sector

Because I’d chosen Ivana over my duty to Blood Sector, and it hadn’t felt wrong to do so. Actually, it’d felt natural. Like there hadn’t been a choice at all.

The wood creaked under my palms, my muscles flexing as my frustration mounted.

“Careful with that,” Kieran said as he materialized near the window. “That desk is one of the few relics I kept from Eclipse Sector, and I would like it to remain intact.”

My teeth ground together as I forced myself to release the mahogany and straighten my spine.

“You’re in a strange mood for a man who just spent the last week and a half playing in an Omega’s nest,” he drawled as he settled into his chair. One dark eyebrow arched upward. “I can smell her all over you, so I know you did your job. Dare I ask whyyou feel the need to obliterate my desk? Has it wronged you in some way?”

I narrowed my gaze at him. “Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated.”

“Your surliness isn’t appreciated either,” he returned. “What’s going on, Cillian? Why haven’t you claimed Ivana?”

Of course, he would be able to smell that, too.

Her mark was embedded in my skin, but not the other way around.

Any Alpha of power would scent it immediately.

“She’s pregnant,” I managed to say through my teeth.

“That’s a natural result of an Omega’s heat, yes. I believe you knew that before you chose to see her through the process?” he phrased it as a question, one that had me wanting to punch him in the face.

But really, that would just be me using him as an outlet for my aggression—something I suspected he was attempting to offer if I needed such an outlet. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be purposefully goading me in this way.

“I need you to tell me what you’ve learned about the heat accelerant or serum or whatever it was that caused this. I…” I took a deep breath, willing my racing heart to stop trying to escape my chest. “I need to know that Ivana claimed me for the right reasons.”

Kieran stared at me for a long moment, his expression shifting from curious to incredulous. “You’re fucking joking, yes?” he demanded in our ancient tongue rather than English. “That Omega has been obsessed with you for six years, and you’re questioning herclaim?”

I blew out a breath and collapsed into the leather chair across from his desk, my head falling back so I could take in the dark beams decorating his coffered ceiling.

Kieran switching to our ancient tongue meant I’d pissed him off. He typically preferred conversing in English or modern-dayIrish. To anyone else, his decision to change languages would be a warning.

My wolf just saw it as a playful challenge.

This was my best friend, one of two men I trusted more than anyone else in this world.

Which was why I felt comfortable enough to reply, “Ivana isn’t reacting well to the pregnancy.” Swallowing, I finally looked at him. “In fact, she seems downright livid with me for not using birth control. But there hadn’t been any time. And honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted to use any even if I could have.”

Kieran grunted. “You waited six fucking years to knot her, so I’m not surprised.” He leaned back in his chair and canted his head. “But I don’t understand why Ivana’s angry about it.”

“Because I took the choice away from her?” I suggested. “Because she wasn’t in the right frame of mind when she claimed me? Because she was drugged?”

“Did you actually ask her?” he countered, that damn eyebrow arched once more.

“No. I came here to talk to you.”

He stared at me. “You know, I’ve always considered you to be an expert when it comes to political negotiations and shifter affairs. I had no idea you were this bad with women, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised since it took you six fucking years to claim Ivana. And you still haven’t fucking done it.”

“Are you going to keep repeating yourself?” I demanded. “I’m aware it took me six years to figure this out.”

“Apparently, you haven’t figured anything out,” he shot back. “Ask Ivana why she’s upset. Don’t assume. That’s like Women 101, Cillian. For fuck’s sake, it’s like you’ve never knotted a female before.”

“I’m starting to think you want me to punch you in the face,” I growled at him. “Are you in the mood for a fight, Kieran?”

His resulting grin was the epitome of wolfishness. “Actually, I am. It’s been a fucked-up week and a half, and I could use a punching bag.”

Now it was my turn to grunt at him. “You won’t land more than two hits on me before I have you flattened on the ground,King.”