Page 89 of Claimed By Prince Daddy

A low snarl. “Why the hell not?”

I pursed my lips. My eyes went half-lidded. I allowed an air of nonchalance to waft over me as I crossed my legs at the ankle, leaning my hip further against the desk.

Blue eyes shot through with flecks of golden amber stared me down. I knew then that I would speak to both the man and the bear.

“You realize that if things unravel further—if they murder more humans—this could throw werewolves and werebears into another war?” He threw his arms out from his sides. “Countless lives could be lost. And needless blood spilled!”

I reached out and snatched up a sugar cookie from the plate atop the oak desk. With a lazy bite, I mumbled, “Not my problem.”

Damon’s fangs punched out. Any lesser dominant would have cowed under the fury of his glare—angled their head and bared the soft flesh of their neck. But I held a secret weapon. Rejected mate or not, I still held connections to this alpha male. No male could harm their mate—fated or not. It went against every instinct belonging to our kind. A male would sooner slit their throat than cause one scratch to mar their mate’s flesh.

After finishing the cookie, I said. “I’m no longer affiliated with the Silverfang pack.” I dusted my crumble-laced fingers on my jeans. My gaze sharpened, incisors lengthening. “Know this…I will never work with awerebear.”

A flicker of recognition flashed across Damon’s eyes.

But know this. I will never take awerewolfas my mate.

Even now, those prior words Damon uttered still punctured my heart—the muscle spurting blood. My own words mirrored those uttered two years ago by the very male standing before me. When his rejection has shredded my soul more thoroughly than any set of fangs could.

Damon blinked rapidly, and the look of astonishment vanished, replaced by a severe scowl.

I jerked my chin toward the office door.

“Get out.”

He remained looming over me.

I crossed my arms. “Get. Out.”

A pause wrought with tension before he turned on his heel and, back rigid, stepped out of the room.

I watched him, through the window, round up his sentinels and stalk off. I growled at myself as longing and hatred warred for dominance in my soul.

My inner wolf lowered her head into her paws and whimpered.

Let him leave.

Hopefully, I’d never set eyes on him again.

CHAPTER TWO: DENIALS AND DISCOVERY

SASHA

The impact of the punch I threw bounced back down my whole body.

After leaping away from the punching bag, I dropped into a crouch, spun, and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick. The punching bag rocked back, the chain supporting it, rattling.

Alexandra, one of my senior lieutenants, stood leaning against the far wall—legs crossed at the ankle. Her gray eyes tracked me like a falcon eyeing a rodent.

The thought fueled me into a flurry of punches and kicks that had the bag swinging like a turbulent pendulum.

“The juveniles are getting rowdy,” Alexandra said.

“They’re always rowdy,” I panted.

“The levels are peaking toward violence. They’re beginning to assert their standing in the hierarchy.”

Jab. Cross. Uppercut. “Take them down a peg,” I gasped in between blows.

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