Page 57 of Rejected Bullied Mate

“You could smell it?” Samson asked, tapping Kit on the nose.

“Yup!” Kit nodded enthusiastically. “I knew he was your mate, Mama. I could smell it from the first time he came over. He was a little mean then, but he smelled like... like home.”

***

It turned out that Kit was smarter than I was, at least when it came to Samson. I'd fought the draw I felt for weeks, just to discover that my true happiness only came when I surrendered.

In the mornings, I'd wake up to find him still beside me, his arms around me, his breath warm against the back of my neck. Sometimes, I'd wake him up, and we'd greet the morning, making love, our bodies moving together until we both found release.

Other times, I'd simply put my ear to his chest and listen to the slow, steady beat of his heart.

We'd get up, dress, and have breakfast, and then he'd go off to do Alpha things, and I'd get ready for work. Samson made his money off of pieces of property his great-grandfather had bought when the pack first came to town, and there was no real reason for me to continue working, but I was being honest when I told him I liked to keep busy. Emerald Blooms was my little piece of independence.

It also allowed me to socialize with the pack, too. I'd seen Samson stick up for me, but I didn't realize how powerful his words were until the visitors started filtering in after our injuries. Pack members who wanted to check in on their Alpha, or so I thought.

Nayeli, still recovering herself, was the first to visit, Gwen trailing behind her with a plate of cookies. Nayeli had been cleared by Joe's doctor to return to work, but she wasn't ready yet, and Samson had ordered her to stay home. We spent the morning together, just the girls, gossiping and eating cookies, and it had all just felt so right.

The day after that, Waylon came. I expected him to focus on checking in with Samson, but instead, his attention turned to me, and his gaze was relieved when he saw how much I was recovering.

“You’re one of us now,” he said simply, but it meant the world to me. "The pack protects its Omegas, not just the Alphas."

That afternoon, we sat on the porch swing, and he told me stories about Samson, the trouble he used to get into as a kid, and how he'd stepped up to be Samson's second-in-command, no questions asked, when the time came.

"He needed me," he explained, "And I never thought twice about it. Pack is family, and family means everything to us."

The most shocking visitors were Curt and Francine. They came bearing homemade beef jerky from Pete and an almost submissive attitude that was totally out of character.

"I feel a little responsible," Curt explained. "If I had taken Mason's challenge and won, none of this would have happened. Hell, even if I lost, it probably could have been avoided."

"You couldn't have known what Mason was planning," Samson told him, "It's not your fault."

"Still. We, ah, have a lot to make up for. With Kiera, I mean."

"You do." Samson was serious but not unkind. "And I have faith you'll figure out how to do it."

Francine sniffed, turning away from us and back to her car. She looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm sorry. For everything."

With that, they got into their car and drove away. I leaned back against Samson, taking comfort in his touch. "Am I a fool for being so soft with them, even after they messed with me so much as a kid?"

"No." He kissed the top of my head, "It makes you my Omega."

Chapter 24 - Samson

It felt wrong to walk into Scott's coffee shop after I'd spent so long convinced he was the one who attacked Kiera, but it wasn't for a social visit. It was business, and pack business was always uncomfortable.

At least it was pleasant inside, smelling of cinnamon and roasted coffee beans. I plucked an enormous cinnamon roll from the display case, telling the confused barista to put it on Scott's tab.

I found the other two Alphas at a corner table, Scott wearing his usual shit-eating grin and Joe appearing almost completely bored. None of us wanted to be there, but pack alliances had to be maintained to work.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Scott drawled, making a face at my newly acquired cinnamon roll. "Did you pay for that?"

I just smirked at him and took a big bite.

Joe sighed.

"Whatever. Maybe we can talk about what's really important," Scott sighed. "And that's the apology that you owe me, Saltfang."

I scowled at the nickname. "Why do you even care? It was only a matter of time before I figured out it wasn't you."

---