Page 50 of Claimed

To say she doesn’t care what happens to her brother surprises me since she’s obviously a caring person. It’s clear she’s been through a lot because of him. Even if he’s a threat to the pack, he’s her blood, so I’ll do what I can to resolve this without going the way of the old school alpha against alpha beef – a fight to the death. I don’t want my mate to resent me for taking her brother away.

She’s angry with him after he’s thrust her into this uncertain and dangerous situation, forcing her to do things that are out of character. My gut tells me there’s much to be careful about. Playing devil’s advocate, if he keeps pack matters close to the vest, she doesn’t have all the facts.

I’ve long learned that before you make a decision it’s best to have all the facts. Though I can’t imagine any situation where it would be logical for an alpha to send an omega female in to assassinate another alpha. Not in a million years.

He might not be logical. Perhaps he’s worse than a power-hungry tyrant. Maybe he needs to be extracted as alpha of his pack.

She’s anxious about her loved ones. She’s full of worries. She’s had a lot of weight resting on her slender shoulders. Omega females are maternal, nurturing. Of course she cares about her pack. Of course she wants everything to turn out okay, even if she is angry with her brother.

Family ties aren’t simply fastened by a single knot. Anger and frustration can mean we’re colorful with our language and harsh with our words, but they’re often on the surface, the product of what can be big feelings.

But bottom line: I need to know more about her brother and that pack’s dynamics before I can decide the best way to handle it. Dirty water not suitable for drinking. Not wanting even paranormal outsiders to know anything about them suggests dirty secrets. Not letting women shift or believing in the mate bond?

We need to know more. And I need to take into consideration the fact that despite Stacy’s anger at her brother for decisions he’s made in how he runs his pack; leaders can’t always tell their people everything. Sometimes it’s a matter of safety. Then again, he might just be a diabolical, greedy asshole.

The way my father has put it, relationships aren’t always salvageable. I don’t know if Riley and his mate’s relationship can move forward. I don’t know why my father deemed his relationship with my biological mother to be unfixable. If not for the severing, Carrie wouldn’t have come into his life, and we wouldn’t have my sister Bailey. Thingsdohappen for a reason. We’ve seen that here our whole lives and we’ve seen a whole lot of it since Ty came home.

I feel so much tension and anxiety inside my mate that I wrap her into my embrace, purr to give her comfort, and revel in how right she feels.

And after not having a solid night of deep sleep for a few nights, I don’t get the chance to knot again. I fall asleep holding her in my human form, which means I sleep deep.

***

I wake and eye the alarm clock. I slept for a solid ten hours, and my mate isn’t next to me. I don’t react to being alone, my senses track where my mate is. Downstairs. Cooking. Humming.

But before I get there, multiple alpha scents hit my nose as way too fucking close, so I pop my head out the balcony door and see some of my council co-alphas who want to know what’s what. Who want to know if I’m all right. Who are asking for answers about my mate, her actions, her pack. I tell them to fuck off with a smile on my face. Clearly, they haven’t talked to Ty yet.

It's only unmated council alphas in my driveway so although they know it’s wise to leave an alpha with his new mate until he chooses to surface, they don’t truly understand the emotions that quickly grow. But they soon will.

I move down to the kitchen and find her with the waffle iron and a shy smile.

“Is it… okay that I just…”

She gestures to the room, and I speak to save her from stumbling through more words.

“Of course I want you to make yourself at home. Thisisyour home, Blossom. I put this kitchen in for you. Smells good.” I survey the kitchen counter, and she’s baked muffins as well as made waffles and breakfast sausages. A pot of coffee is brewed. She excitedly reaches for a cup and pours and passes it to me.

I set the cup down.

“Before you give me anything when you see me each morning, you give me that mouth.”

Her cheeks tint pink and she looks at me with a glazed expression, so I move in instead, pressing my lips to hers then nipping her bottom lip playfully as I grasp her ass cheeks and lift her up onto the counter beside the previously unused wafflemaker I got as a housewarming gift. I shove it aside and yank on the cord to unplug it before I shove the shirt she’s wearing up and cup between her legs while I continue to plunder her mouth.

“It's been too long since I was connected to you,” I inform as I feel that she’s wet for me. I free myself and grab her hips to bring her down onto my waiting erection. Sliding inside her silky heat feels incredible. I spin us around and put her back against the opposite wall. She’s staring at me with a wondrous expression as I move her on my cock.

She grasps my shoulders, and a sexy expression overtakes her features as her head rolls back against the wall, a husky moan leaving her delicious mouth. Her wavy, dark hair is everywhere and it looks, smells, and feels beautiful. My mouth latches onto her mark and I groan as she tightens around my cock, making my knot spring out and begin pulsing.

Stacy clenches my shoulders harder, her nails digging in as she lets out the sweetest little cry while my hips piston forward over and over. I absorb her musical cries, feel her goosebumps, enjoy the clenching of her thighs, her fingers, and especially that tight heat.

I’ve felt so fucking alive since I first got inside her. I feel strong, fierce, unstoppable – like I can conquer anything right now.

When my knot deflates, I move us to the dining table where places are set for us. A tall stack of waffles sits on a platter between the two place settings. The plate of foil-covered breakfast sausage beckons me from the counter, so I bring it over, giving her a lazy smile, enjoying the hazy glow of Stacy recovering from her climax.

She rushes into the bathroom while I dish up some food. I pour a puddle of syrup onto the plate first. When she comes out, she looks intrigued as she watches me lift a waffle and tear a pieceoff, dunking it into the puddle before feeding it to her. It’s gone cold but the syrup is warm. I dredge the rest of the waffle into the syrup and take a big bite.

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she chews and swallows.

I’ve inadvertently dripped some syrup onto her collar bone.

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