Page 29 of The Breeding Cave
“Who?”
“Nobody.”
“Who?”
“Why do you care?!” I shouted, so caught up in all my emotions from earlier today and all the messages I’d been getting from the Dragon Clan. “You won’t even show me your face. You don’t trust me, so I can’t trust you.”
“You can trust me.”
“Then tell me your name.”
A low growl rolled out of his throat. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tell me something!” I exclaimed. “Who are you? Why do you want me to have your child? What’s with this cave? And why can’t you show me who you really are? Do I know you, or are you just too ashamed?”
The words came out harsher than I’d expected. I was upset, but that wasn’t an excuse.
“Sorry,” I whispered, dropping my gaze. “I don’t mean ashamed in a bad way. I just don’t understand why I can’t know anything.” Tears welled up in my eyes. “You’re expecting me to carry your child when I don’t know anything about you.”
After a long pause, he turned away from me and walked to the front of the cave. Moonlight bounced off his back, illuminating all the muscles that he had. I sucked in a breath and tore my gaze away because if I looked for any longer …
“I lead a pack of beasts,” he started. “That’s all you need to know.”
“What kind of beasts?” I asked.
“Lycans.”
“So, like … wolves?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Because I swore that I read a story where?—”
“Wolves are weak,” he growled, then suddenly, his voice dropped to above a whisper, so low that I could barely hear it. His shoulders rounded forward, and he quickly tilted his head to the side. “Maybe that is what we are now.”
My eyes widened slightly, and I stepped toward him. The closer I approached him, the more I realized how scarred his back was, and parts of it almost looked … burned, as if he had been in a bad fire.
What had happened to him? Was his pack hurt? Destroyed?
“Is Molly in your pack?” I asked, deciding to shift the conversation.
“Yes.”
“And Joseph too?”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer to him, realizing how deep those scars were. Whatever had happened to him, it was bad. No wonder why he didn’t want to talk about it. I could only imagine …
“How many people do you lead?”
“Only a couple hundred now.”
“Were there more?”
He tightened his hands into fists, and I realized that I had overstepped this time. I hadn’t come here to ask all these questions. My one goal tonight had been to demand that he give me the money in cash.
I can’t be invested in his history. I can’t have feelings for him.
