Page 25

25

AREN

“H ave you seen Kat?” I grip Wes’s arm, halting him on his way to the table where all the food has been laid out for Emilio and Joy’s party.

He shakes his head, and I release him, giving the room another sweep. My fifth, or maybe sixth, since the party started.

Everyone is here.

Everyone except Kat.

Last I heard, Joy was dragging Kat into the bunkhouse. I asked Emilio when I saw him and he just shook his head and said to leave Joy to work her magic. Getting involved would be a mistake, whatever that meant.

I don’t know what Joy is whispering into Emilio’s ear because he has the look of a man who can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

Tonight is about celebrating the new pup they’ll soon have, and I don’t want to interrupt them, but I need to know where Kat is. Maybe I’d be a little less stressed about what she was doing if I wasn’t so terrified of her leaving me.

I walk over to them beside the fireplace.

“You saw Kat last,” I say to Joy.

She stops whispering and turns to say to me, “Yeah, but that was hours ago.”

She returns to whispering.

“ Joy ,” I growl.

She flashes me a grin. “What?”

“Did she say anything about me?”

Namely, if she was staying or going. Silas had told me she looked confused and frustrated when he’d found her kicking a tree. I asked why she’d been kicking a tree. He said he thought I had something to do with it.

That sounds about right.

The kiss wasn’t all me. She wanted it as much as I did. Maybe I should have broken it off sooner than I did. But my mate was kissing me. She was in my arms and I couldn’t let her go.

“We all need different things,” Emilio says, pulling me from my thoughts.

He’s holding Joy’s hand, eyes serious as he studies me. “Joy needs me to have her back, and to believe in her. I need her to think twice before she flings herself into danger, and to spend the night in my arms so I know she’s safe.”

“And the reason you’re telling me this is…”

“You know what you need. What does Kat need?”

Everyone has an opinion about what I should do with Kat. Would snarling at them convince them to stop giving me their opinion? Yeah. But I know why they’re doing it.

Pack is family and family—a good family—wants to help.

I’m lifting my beer to my lips when I see her.

Kat.

She’s worn nothing but jeans and sweats since I saw her. Other than when I made the drive down to Gregson College. She’d been in a prim looking black dress similar to the one she’d worn when I’d broken into her apartment.

She’s not wearing jeans, sweats, or a black dress now.

As she steps into the dining room, her back is straight, her expression calm, but there’s a tension in her bare shoulders that makes me think she’s nervous.

And that dress…

I run my eyes up and down the silky green material. She said her favorite color was mint green. This is a slightly darker shade, and it flows over her curves. Her dark hair falls in soft-looking waves to her shoulders, and I want to bury my hands in it.

“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” Amusement warms Joy’s usually husky voice.

I hand Emilio my bottle and cross the room to a woman so beautiful, I struggle to believe she’s mine.

Kat watches me, eyes wary and shoulders tense as I close the distance between us.

Inches away, I stop and offer her my hand. “Dance?”

She lifts her chin. “I don’t dance.”

I swallow my smile. “You look like I just asked you to go to war.”

“Same thing.”

“It’s a dance, Kat.”

“There’s no just anything with you.” Her voice is so quiet that I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or to herself.

I keep my palm up, waiting for her to decide. She hasn’t said no yet, at least not definitively. She hasn’t said yes either.

“If I say no…”

I take a step closer, her scent teasing my nose. “I’ll convince you.”

“And if you can’t convince me?”

“I will.”

One second passes in silence, and I feel the rest of the pack observing us.

She rolls her eyes, mutters something under her breath that sounds like a curse, and puts her hand in mine. “Okay. Fine. But only because you don’t know how to let things go.”

“I’m not nearly as stubborn as you.” I smile as I draw her into my arms and begin a slow dance.

We’re not on the dance floor.

If anything, we’re blocking a path out of the room.

I don’t care.

I have my mate in my arms, and I have no intention of letting her go for anything.

“You are looking particularly smug,” she says, eyes narrowing.

“Am I?”

I wince as a sharp pain radiates up my right foot.

“Oops.” Her smile is saccharine sweet. “Like I said, I don’t dance.”

The room gets louder as conversation merges with the music. I dance us a little further away from the rest of the pack, toward my office. “We need to talk.”

“About the apology you have yet to give.”

“Kat…”

She just looks at me.

Keeping hold of her hand, I pull. “Come on, we need privacy for this.”

I lead her to my office, close the door behind us, and pin her against the wall.

This urge to keep a tight hold of her whenever I have her close is growing, and for the first time, I understand Joy and Emilio’s relationship better than I ever did before. I don’t think I’ve been thinking straight since the day Kat entered my life.

“You know how I feel about you, Kat,” I tell her softly

She shakes her head. “I don’t.”

I step into her. “Yes, you do.”

She lifts her chin. “I know you keep tiptoeing around actually admitting what you did and hoping if you tiptoe long enough, I’ll forget.”

She thinks that?

I frown. “That isn’t what I’m doing.”

Doesn’t she know that I’m showing her I’m sorry? That I won’t hurt her again. That some people say things they don’t mean, like Dania’s ex, who left her, but I show them.

“Then what are you doing, Wolf King?”

The impact of that title never diminishes. Before, it was just a title.

She said it to keep me at a distance. I know because I called her a feral for the same reason, even after I started developing feelings for her.

But now that title hits me in a different way.

“I’m trying to convince you that I can make you happy,” I say.

“By?”

“I bought you a new bed to show you that there won’t ever be anyone but you."

She shakes her head. “That’s not enough.”

“But it can be.”

“No.” She pushes me back a step. “It isn’t. I need to hear you admit what you did to me.”

“The pack needs me to be right. Their survival depends on it.”

“You are not God,” she snaps. “No one is ever right all the time. No one .”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I do,” she says. “You’re allergic to admitting you’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not,” I growl.

“Then prove me wrong. Say it.”

“I…”

She stares up at me as my voice trails off.

And I can’t do it. Can’t bring myself to say those words out loud.

She shakes her head. “How can I believe you will never do that to me again if you can’t even say it?”

“But I can?—”

“ It’s not good enough !” she yells.

For one second, there is complete silence from the other side of the door.

“Kat…”

A smile curves her lips, though it holds no trace of amusement. "Is being right more important than anything? More important than me?”

I don’t respond.

She doesn’t understand what it means to be Alpha. Doesn’t know what my pack needs me to be. But I do.

“You nearly killed me,” she whispers as she looks me in the eye. “And every time you refuse to apologize for doing something unforgivable is another reminder that you don’t deserve my forgiveness.”

I step toward her.

Her hand slashes up. Keeping me back. “You can’t flirt your way out of this. You can’t kiss me into forgetting, Aren. I’m going home. My place is not here with you. It never was.”

And she walks away.

“Mates cannot be apart for long,” I call after her.

“Then I die. Or you die. I don’t care.” Her voice is cold.

I stand in the open doorway and I watch her go, my pack moving aside as she walks out.

And I punch the wall. When it doesn’t hurt enough, I punch it again.

“Why the fuck can’t I say those damn words?” I growl. “Why is it so hard?”

“Because it’s not meant to be easy,” Finan says, his approach so silent I hadn’t known he was beside me until he spoke. “Or it wouldn’t mean as much as it does.”

Only one thing keeps me from following her. She’s headed toward the creek, where she likes to think as much as I do.

If she had been leaving, I’d have gone after her and stopped her.

“Aren?” Finan says. “We don’t need you to be right. None of us ever required perfection from you. Only you expected that from yourself.”

He’s wrong.

I walk over to the drinks table, grab a bottle of beer, and lean against the closest wall.

Nothing is more important than being right.

Nothing.