Page 9

9

REYES

“S o, you fucked up.”

I groan and slump back in my chair, staring up at the cracked ceiling of the visitor center while Grant and Will—my two most trusted alphas—decide to turn my life into tonight’s entertainment. Of course, they never hold back. They know I’ll tell them to shut up if they need to, which is probably why they’re pushing it tonight.

“Yeah, I think we’re all clear on that,” I mutter, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “I’ve known Tilda for what—twenty-four hours? And she already hates me.”

“Well, considering she showed up to kill you, I don’t think the hate is new,” Will points out, his tone maddeningly casual. “She’s a crusader. You can’t trust ‘em, plain and simple.”

“But she’s…” I hesitate, leaning forward, hoping for some kind of sanity check. “What does she smell like to you?”

Grant squints at me like I’ve grown another head. “Man, I’ll never get used to these questions. You want me to sniff her or something?”

I glare at him so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t burst into flames.

Grant winces, holding up his hands. “Okay, okay! Poor word choice. My bad.” He straightens up, trying to look serious. “But seriously, does she smell different to you?”

I groan, dragging my hand down my face. “Drop it.”

Will narrows his eyes, tilting his head like a wolf sizing up prey. “You know, that just makes me think we shouldn’t drop it.”

“You don’t need to worry about it,” I snap. “She’s just another girl. She’s gonna help us with this farm, we’ll get her the medicine for her sister, and then we’ll send her on her way. End of story.”

“Real optimistic, thinking she won’t come back with a bunch of crusaders and burn this place to the ground,” Grant says, leaning back with a smug grin. “Country folk don’t just let shit go, man. Trust me.”

“Last I checked, you didn’t even leave Austin until you got blessed,” Will says, shooting him a side-eye. “What the hell do you know about country folk?”

Grant sits up straighter, offended. “I know they’re sketchy as hell. I’ve seen Deliverance .”

Will groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in a pack with you.”

Their voices fade into the background as soon as Tilda’s scent hits me—blackberries and leather, sharp and familiar, slamming into me like a freight train. I don’t know whether I’m desperate to talk to her or wishing she’d never stepped foot in this place. When I glance at the door, there she is, walking in with Peaches, Frankie trailing right behind them.

I wonder if she even realizes she’s had a shadow this whole time.

She looks better than she did yesterday—clean, chestnut hair braided down one side, fresh clothes that actually fit. Her eyes scan the room, sharp and assessing, like she’s piecing everything together. It doesn’t take her long to find me.

Our gazes meet, and I give her a slight nod.

She scowls, turns on her heel, and heads in the opposite direction with Peaches.

Grant lets out a low whistle and nudges me from across the table, grinning like the jackass he is. “Damn, Garza. You let your prisoner roam free, and she’s still giving you the cold shoulder?”

“I didn’t see the point in keeping her locked up,” I mutter. “She’s gonna start prepping the garden plot tomorrow. She’ll see everything anyway.”

Will arches an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Yeah, sure. That’s all this is about. You’re hiding something.”

Grant sniffs the air in her direction, his eyes narrowing. Then he freezes and stares at me like I just sprouted a second head. “Wait. You didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Will says, but then his nose twitches and realization dawns. “Oh, shit. Reyes, did you…?”

“No,” I snap, cutting him off. “God, no. I’m celibate. That hasn’t changed.”

“Then why does she smell like you fucked her?” Grant says, way too loud for my liking.

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “And stop saying that. Look, I’ll explain, but you’re not to repeat this to anyone.”

“So now you’re keeping secrets from the pack?” Will’s tone is sharp, his eyes narrowing further.

I groan, pulling at my beard so hard I’m surprised it’s still attached. “Can’t catch a damn break. She was dying. She was bleeding out, and I bit her.”

Grant leans forward, incredulous. “You say that like it’s no big deal, man. Like it’s just a casual, ‘Oh, I had to grab a coffee and also bite a crusader.’ It’s not .”

Will shakes his head, his tone shifting to something more serious. “You realize what you’ve done, right? She’s yours now. Permanently. There’s no walking that back, Reyes. And on top of that, you’ve brought a crusader into the den. You’ve tied us to her. What were you even thinking?”

“She was bleeding out,” I repeat, my voice tight. “There was no time to think, no time to calculate. And trust me, I’ve regretted it every second since. Now I’ve got to figure out what to do with her while she’s here, what to do when she asks to go back home, and how the hell we’re going to get her the insulin she needs.”

“Wait—insulin?” Grant’s eyebrows shoot up.

“For her diabetic sister,” I say, trying to stay calm. “The Heavenly Host is apparently withholding meds as we expand our territory. She offered to help us with the farm in exchange for the insulin.”

Grant snorts. “So let me get this straight: you save her life, and she immediately starts making demands?”

I’m trying to figure out how to defend myself when Will’s gaze flicks over my shoulder. “Heads up. She’s coming over.”

Her scent hits me again, and I turn slowly, bracing myself as Tilda makes her way toward us.

“Tilda,” I say.

“Garza,” she shoots back, her voice clipped.

“Need something?”

She tilts her chin up, all attitude. “Yeah. You don’t need to have me tailed everywhere,” she says. “Pretty sure the blonde is making Peaches uncomfortable.”

She jerks her head toward the back of the room, where Frankie is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and scowling.

“I didn’t tell Frankie to do anything,” I say, shrugging. “Maybe talk to her. You two might have something in common. You’re both…”

I trail off, realizing I’ve walked straight into a verbal minefield.

“We’re both what?”

Grant snorts behind me, but the sound dies in his throat when Tilda’s gaze snaps to him. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him, and suddenly, he’s all quiet.

Intimidation must be her superpower.

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind going toe to toe with her. She’s stubborn as hell.

Just like me.

“Something funny?” she asks, flicking her braid over her shoulder like a whip.

“Uh, no,” Grant stammers. “I mean, uh…”

While she’s focused on him, I let my eyes roam over her—and that’s when I notice it. A scar, ugly and red, twisting down her thigh. She wasn’t wearing shorts last night, so I didn’t see it before, but now it’s impossible to miss.

She catches me looking and pales.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her self-conscious.

“Anyway,” she says sharply, dragging my attention back to her face. “I just wanted to ask you to call off your hounds. I’m not going anywhere—not until you hold up your end of the deal.”

“Got it,” I say. “I’ll talk to Frankie.”

She doesn’t bother with a thank you. Just flips her braid again, spins on her heel, and heads back to Peaches. They settle at a table by themselves, and it’s clear the rest of the pack is keeping their distance. I wonder if I should tell them to treat her kindly…but honestly, my patience is shot.

I sigh, knowing I can’t let this slide. I need to address it. Now.

Standing up, I step onto my chair, towering so close to the ceiling that my head nearly brushes a beam. The room goes quiet almost instantly, everyone’s attention snapping to me. As Alpha Prime, they feel my energy before I even speak.

“I wanted to introduce you all to our guest,” I say, my voice carrying over the murmur of conversation. “Tilda.”

Everyone turns to look at her now, and her face turns crimson as she hunches over the table, staring hard at the wood grain. It’s a surprising reaction from someone as fiery as her–and it suddenly occurs to me that she’s shy, that this is a kind of stage fright. I figured her for tough all around, but this…damn, it’s humanizing her.

Making me like her.

“She’s here to help us set up a farm,” I continue. “We’ve been talking about self-sufficiency for a while, and this is our chance to make that happen. I know she came here under…unusual circumstances, but I expect you to treat her as you would anyone in this pack. And if you want to help her, go talk to her.”

She shakes her head slightly, almost imperceptibly, and I realize I’ve miscalculated. “Or you can talk to me,” I amend quickly. “I’ll connect you.”

Stepping down, I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself. She’s tough, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be thrown into the deep end.

Only a couple of pack members approach her—Suyin, presumably to check in about her wound; our resident preschool teacher, Magnolia, giving Peaches a hug then smiling at Tilda—but the rest swarm me instead. Questions fly from every direction.

How am I going to keep them safe from the crusader? Am I really planning to let her stay here?

And, of course, the whispers: She bears his scent.

I was naive to think I could keep this under wraps. The more people figure it out, the harder it’ll be to contain the fallout.

But no matter what, I can’t tell Tilda the truth about the bond. Not because I’m scared of her anger—she’s already furious—but because admitting it would make it impossible to keep my wolf under control.

Three weeks. That’s all I need to get through.

Then she can have her medicine, and I’ll have my farm. And with any luck, Tilda Bingham will walk out of my life for good.