Page 42 of Fetch Me A Mate
"Isn't she?" Kael stepped closer, invasion of personal space meant to trigger submission responses. "Seemed pretty important to you from where we stood."
"Leave her out of it."
"That's not how this works," Danarius said. "You know better. Pack business doesn't have boundaries. Neither do consequences."
Diana's voice came from behind him, steady despite the obvious tension. "Rowan? What's going on? Who are these people?"
This was the moment. The choice he'd been dreading since the first text message. He could tell her the truth, drag her into pack politics and supernatural dangers she couldn't possibly understand. Or he could push her away hard enough that she'd stay inside, stay safe, stay out of reach when this turned ugly.
Rowan looked at the woman who'd given him a glimpse of what home could look like, and chose the cruelest mercy he knew.
"Go inside, Diana." His voice came out flat, cold, empty of everything he'd been feeling moments ago. "This doesn't concern you."
"But—"
"Go. Inside." He turned to see her fully, letting all his careful distance slam back into place. "These are business associates. Nothing you need to worry about."
The hurt that flickered across her face nearly broke his resolve. But she was too smart not to read the subtext, tooempathic not to pick up on the danger radiating from his unexpected visitors.
"Fine." Her voice was steady, dignified. "I'll be inside if you need anything."
She retreated into the inn, closing the door firmly behind her. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home was quieter this time, but no less final.
"Smart woman," Danarius observed. "Knows when she's not wanted."
Rowan's hands tightened into fists. "What do you want?"
"Same thing we've always wanted. For you to come back and clean up the chaos you left behind."
"I'm not coming back."
"Yes," Danarius said, his smile cold as winter morning, "you are."
21
DIANA
Anger made Diana's hands shake as she drafted the winter events schedule. The inn would be booked solid through New Year's if she had anything to say about it. Weekly story circles, holiday workshops, seasonal celebrations that would keep the parlor fires burning and the guest rooms full. Fall was already among them, so it was time to think ahead.
She refused to let this morning's humiliation derail everything she'd built.
"Knock, knock," Twyla called from the front door, carrying a basket that smelled of cinnamon and chocolate. "Brought reinforcements."
"If those are your stress-relief muffins, I'll take a dozen."
"Chocolate chip therapy specials." Twyla set the basket on the reception desk and studied Diana's face. "Heard there was some excitement this morning. Early visitors."
"Something like that." Diana kept writing, her pen moving across the paper with mechanical precision. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
"Right. That's why you look like you've been chewing nails."
Diana set down her pen and looked up. "How much do you know?"
"Enough to know those weren't ordinary business associates." Twyla settled into the chair across from the desk. "Enough to know Rowan's got history he hasn't shared with you."
"Apparently he's got lots of things he hasn't shared." Diana picked up a muffin and broke it apart without eating. Diana thought about the way Rowan had looked at her last night, the plans they'd made, the promises he'd given. Then she thought about his cold voice this morning, the way he'd dismissed her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience.
She wanted to question Twyla, for her to tell her what she knew, but the other part of her wanted it to come from Rowan.
