Page 17 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

He came for us. Despite the anger, my wolf feels relief.

No, he sure as hell didn’t. But the air here feels like he’s sucked it all up.

“I have to go.” I turn and leave to the backroom and out through the back door into the alley that stinks of garbage and shit. I breathe, trying to steady my breath.

“You okay?” Dana, one of the bartenders, asks.

“Cover for me, I feel a little sick.” He raises an eyebrow and glances at the pile of garbage a few feet away, then he goes back in without another word.

Lucas appears from the other end of the alley. He walks up to me, his charm suddenly gone.

“Do you know that man? What is your business with him?” Lucas demands, his tone sharper now.

“I don’t know what or who you’re talking about. He’s just a random stranger like you.” My voice is steady and hostile now, despite the storm brewing inside me. He's no longer the sweet-talking stranger from just a few minutes ago.

Lucas doesn’t look convinced. He leans closer, his hand brushing mine again, and this time I don’t hide my flinch. He grabs my arm now, also not hiding his motive. I was right.

“You’re hiding something.” He sounds dangerous, and I snarl.

“Back off,” I snap, my wolf rising to the surface, her anger sharpening my tone.

A smile spreads across his face. He has me where he wants me. I see shadows appear behind him—Eldon’s rogues.

I’m being ambushed.

Chapter 6

Kieran

The control center hums quietly, the steady glow of monitors illuminating the dark room. It’s where I spend most of my nights now, surrounded by the latest tech upgrades to Moonfang’s security systems. I’ve fortified the estate with layers of surveillance and monitoring tech. Since the exponential success of my security systems company in the last eighteen months, I’ve been able to make even more resources available for my pack. But as I sit here, staring at the same reports I’ve read a hundred times, I feel no satisfaction.

The truth is, all of this—every piece of equipment, every innovation—has been a distraction…a way to drown out the gnawing ache of guilt that’s festered in my chest for months now.

Guilt over Hazel.

Two years ago, I made the worst decision of my life. I believed lies, chose duty over instinct, and sent her away. I told myself it was for the good of Moonfang, that protecting the pack came first. Damon had convinced me the threat from Nightclaw was real, that Hazel was a spy planted to weaken us. But the truth was simpler, more devastating. I had been wrong.

I discovered the truth a year and four months after Hazel was gone.It came in the form of a confession from one of my spies, a low-ranking wolf desperate to avoid punishment and obtain power. He admitted to fabricating a plot against Moonfang, hoping to gain favor with Magnus Callister and Jag Nightbeam to gain a foothold in their pack. He claimed he acted alone and it wasn't a real plot. He swore he just used it as evidence of loyalty.

The moment the words left his mouth, everything inside me went still. My wolf growled something nasty, and in the blink of an eye, the spy was a mere splatter of blood all over the wooden floor.

I’d been so focused on the threat to Moonfang, so consumed by my responsibilities as Alpha, that I let paranoia cloud my judgment. I let Damon’s warnings guide me, even when my wolf clawed at me to believe her.

Hazel wasn’t a spy. She was innocent. Our bond was pure.

And I’d destroyed her.

Damon enters the room now, his footsteps measured, his expression calm as always. But even his steady presence can’t soothe the storm inside me.

“Another late night?” Damon is illuminated by the gray light from the monitors. It flickers on his face and enhances his dark features. It’s more like a habit at this point. Some part of me was always watching out for traces of Hazel. I know it’s delusional. But I couldn’t cross the boundaries of another pack. That would be begging for war.

“Always.” Saying that made me aware of the tiredness that had settled in my bones.

“You’ve been staring at the same reports for hours,” Damon says, his tone carefully neutral. “What are you really looking for?”

I clench my jaw, my fingers tightening on the edge of the desk. “You know what I’m looking for.”

Damon sighs, his gaze heavy. “Kieran, it’s been eight months of searching.”

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