Page 85 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

“But those goddamn bears would.” He bared his teeth. “The humans’ safety isn’t their jurisdiction. Bastards might’ve stooped to killing humans when tearing into wolf’s fur wasn’t bloody enough.”

My mind chose that moment to flashback to the battle two years ago. The metallic tang of blood coated the air. The snarls and cries of pain resounded as fangs sank into fur. Warmth pooled in my belly at the thought of the werebear alpha, whose blue eyes touched my soul in ways I’d never imagined.

Damon.

My mate.

The male who rejected me. I bit my lower lip as a burning sensation touched my eyes.

Shit.

My hair bristled, resembling raised hackles. I would not let that male affect me. Not anymore. I’d spilled enough tears.

The office door flew open, slamming back against the wall. I felt the resounding thwack down my spine.

Whirling around, I yelled, “Does anyone not see there’s a door meant for knocking?”

Kimberly, an adolescent warrior in training, stood on the threshold. Her chest heaving in ragged pants, and wiry frame trembling, she cried, “T-the werebears are coming!”

My lungs seized. My limbs were numb. I couldn’t draw breath.

“The hell did you just say?” Garret roared.

“W-what should we do, Alpha?”

I didn’t answer Kimberly. Couldn’t. My brain was a scrambled lump. Thoughts spun through my mind, spiraling like a vortex. A tight knot fisted in my chest, the familiar pain an echo of the forest so long ago, where I lay straddled by my mate. Scratch that—my former mate. But not a former memory of my body. Even now, my heart picked up, delicious warmth pooling in my lower abdomen.

A flicker of joy welled inside my core. My inner wolf lifted her head, ears pricked. My veins burned at the hope flickering in her eyes.

Hell no.

Shouldering past Kimberly, I stalked toward the front door to the cabin—the heavy footfalls at my rear signaled Garret’s simmering anger.

After grabbing the door handle, I flung it open and marched onto the porch.

All eyes swung to me. But I only had one male in my field of vision.

Damon Hunter.

The male’s muscular build was just as I remembered, despite having only seen him briefly all those nights ago. A black tank top that hugged his body sculpted his broad chest. His toned biceps were visible, the tendons in stark relief to the smooth muscle overlay with bronzed skin. My gaze dropped unbidden to his legs. He wore jeans; the fabric highlighting his muscular thighs. My wolf almost purred as the image of those thighs bracketing my hips flitted to mind.

I banished the memory into the darkest corner of my mind as my teeth clenched. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Get your flea-bitten ass out of my territory.”

Damon’s gaze didn’t connect with mine. No, he took his sweet time, giving me a cursory once over. I bristled as his gaze caught on my hips and lingered a little too long on my chest.

I snapped my fingers.

That caught his attention. His eyes tightened, upper lip trembling in a restrained growl. I allowed a smug grin to curl my lips.

The two sentinels at Damon’s side let out warning growls. The Hopecrest pack fell into action. Maternal females shielded the young and ushered them inside. Warriors flanked the bears on either side, sentinels drawing closer to my cabin, creating a living shield around me. Weapons drawn, the tension in the air mounted to stifling proportions.

Damon’s sharp gaze flitted between my pack mates. My claws sliced out at the cool, calculating look as he swept over each member. Latent members.

“What is your purpose here?” I asked.

I needed to hold his attention—let him roar and slash at me. Never my pack.

He stared back at me and said, “I have an important matter that needs to be discussed.”

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