Page 116 of Defiant Beta

I just hope I haven’t fucked things up for all of us.

He bumps my shoulder as we reach the staircase. “What’s the reason for the scowl?”

“Sleeping with her was a mistake.”

Della needs time to recover from what happened to her, not for an alpha to jump her the way I did last night. It was a mistake, but it doesn’t feel like one.

After another probing look, he claps me on the shoulder and leads the way downstairs. “Come on. You look like you need a drink.”

In the kitchen, he pours us a generous helping of whiskey from a bottle he retrieves from a cupboard next to the refrigerator. None of us are big drinkers; we’re rarely at home to relax with a glass of anything.

But today?

Today I need a drink. Maybe it’ll dull the guilt twisting my gut that I took advantage of Della when she needed me to comfort her instead.

“I should tell you how crazy it is for us to be drinking whiskey for breakfast,” I say as I take the glass he offers me.

“Will you?”

“Remind me tomorrow.” I roll the liquid around in my mouth: caramel, hints of tobacco, and teak. Then I take another sip while leaning against the kitchen island. “Anything exciting happen at the school that you need a drink?”

He shakes his head. “After what happened to you in the sauna, I stayed away from anywhere someone could lock me in.It felt good to leave it behind, though. Like I was coming home to something good.”

Della.

I make a soft sound of assent and sip from my glass as he does the same.

“So, what happened?” he asks, setting his glass down.

“She’s recovering. She doesn’t need this.”

“Ah! So, you think you took advantage of her?”

My guilt burns hotter, and I swallow down a bigger gulp, because that’s exactly how I feel. “Vincent didn’t bring her here for us to fuck her.”

She’s here to heal and recover. For us to keep her safe from the alphas who hurt her.

She’s said that her abduction wasn’t our fault. She’s wrong. Itisour fault. I almost wish it were just guilt motivating me to want to take care of her. Maybe it won’t hurt so much when she realizes we’re the biggest source of her pain and walks away from us.

Xavier sips his whiskey. “He’s been so focused on revenge for Aly for so long that I’m surprised he was the one who suggested bringing her here.” He watches me over the rim of his glass. “And how was sleeping with Della Jackson?”

It isn’t an innocent question. There’s interest stirring in his gaze.

Vincent has resembled a monk with his all-work, no-play habits. Working out became a crutch to focus my mind and body elsewhere. Rarely, I’d go to a bar and meet a girl—nothing permanent. Everything is temporary, including the houses we rent for a few months.

Xavier is the one who hasn’t completely shut off his desire to feel. He’s been with more women than we have since losing Aly. Not a lot. Just more than Vince and me.

But Della has changed things for all of us. How we feel, our desire to stay at home and be with her, and even how the house feels.

I hadn’t wanted to leave her.

Guilt and fear drove me out of her bed far sooner than I’d wanted to leave. Guilt, because I should have been focusing on her needs, not my own. Fear, in case she woke first, and I saw the regret in her eyes as she slipped away.

“Our priorityshouldbe on Aly,” I say instead.

He tilts his head. “That good, huh?”

So good, I’m getting hard when I remember how perfect she felt as I slid inside her. The soft moan she made as her nails clung to my back and she bucked against me when she came.

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