Page 30 of Sold Bullied Mate

He practically growls, “Bold of you to call her that, considering you turned her away when she came to you for help.”

Dad looks genuinely confused, turning to Mom, and I wonder if she didn’t even tell him I showed up that night.

“Yourejected her as your mate,” my mother says back, matter-of-factly, and Emin sucks in a surprised breath of air beside me.

“Mom,” he admonishes.

There are a million reasons for Emin to stop her, to be shocked that she did it. First, because speaking to the alpha leader at all requires a certain level of respect, which she certainly wasn’t showing. Second, because mating is deeply personal and private, the fact that moment between us waspublic had to do with the fact that Dorian had just lost his grandfather.

Mate rejections always—almost always—happen privately. They’re not very common—why would someone want to reject their mate?—but when they do happen, it’s not normally public knowledge.

I’m so surprised by her behavior, and so worried about what Dorian might do, that my hand flies out, grabbing the cuff of his sleeve, as though I’d be able to hold him back should he decide to treat my mother the way Jarred treated me.

Instead of pushing me away or lunging for my mother, Dorian twists his hand around until his fingers slip between mine. He squeezes once as he speaks, voice so low it’s close to hell.

What ishappening? Is Dorian holding my hand because he’s my alpha leader, defending me? As moral support?

Or for some other reason?

“Get out,” he says, breathing quickly through his nose, his eyes resolutely on my parents. “I will give you ten seconds to get thefuckout of my home.”

My mother, stupidly, looks like she might protest, but Dad is on his feet, grabbing her by the back of the shirt and dragging her away. Her dessert sits, untouched, on the bar behind the dining table. Emin stands as the front door slams, his gaze darting down to where Dorian holds my hand.

Then, his eyes land on me. Dorian’s directive wasn’t toward Emin, but it’s obvious from the anger radiating out from him that he wants to be alone.

That he wants to be alonewith me.

“Kira,” Emin says quickly, swallowing and rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “I thought I’d have more time to make a whole speech about this, but Mom fucked that up, so—”

Dorian makes a noise likeget on with itthat only his best friend would understand.

“I’m sorry for being such a massive dick when we were teenagers. I think I let Mom and Dad get to me, but I should have had your back. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I hope, with time, you can come to forgive me.”

My hand slips out of Dorian’s as I stand, choked to tears, and wrap my arms around my brother. The emotions bubbling inside me are familiar to me, intense and amplified from the heat, but they are mine nonetheless, and I squeeze them all into my brother.

Maybe I should make him work for it. Maybe I should take more time to be angry. But I have to admit that I grieved over him a long time ago, and had lost all hope of getting my brother back. It feels like a miracle.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and he wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly for a moment before letting me go, his eyes flitting from me to Dorian, and back again.

Then Emin grabs my hand, squeezes it, and turns, walking out the door. I follow him, smiling when he waves from his car, gets in, and starts to reverse out of the driveway.

The moment he’s gone, there’s the strangest shift in the air, like something firmly locking into place. I think of Dorian, defending me again and again. Being angry at the people who have hurt me most.

He’s not the same man I knew. Somehow, he’s grown into someone new, someone kind and even-tempered. A good alpha leader. A good man.

“Kira?”

When I turn around to face him, my back against the front door, he’s standing in the hall, the stairs rising up to the top landing behind him. He’s staring at me, pupils blown wide, and just the sight of him fills me with hot, desperate wanting.

Warmth pools between my legs, slick. Need pulses low in my belly.

I realize, with a start, that my heat has begun.

“Dor—” I try to say his name, to say anything coherent, but it’s difficult through the roar of lust in my body. All I can think about is him, his hands, his arms lifting me, getting him inside me to fulfill this ancient, aching sense of emptiness.

But before I can move toward him, ask him to put me out of this misery, he turns on his heels, takes the stairs two at a time, and closes his bedroom door behind him.

Chapter 19 - Dorian

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