Page 11 of Guardians of the Assassins
The answer was simple—if the asshole hurt her, he would cut the fucker.
Morgan squinted at Draven and Ryder, unable to figure out why they were looking at her so strangely. She glanced down, wondering if she’d somehow put her underwear over her clothes or something.
But everything appeared normal.
When she glanced back at them, they avoided her gaze, and she was suddenly suspicious of what they were plotting.
MacGregor and Mistress MacKay entered the room, their heads bent as they whispered to each other, both of them blushing and smiling like teenagers.
Well, damn!
And Morgan couldn’t be any happier.
Kincade cleared his throat, and the two of them straightened, springing apart, a flush to their cheeks.
They were fucking adorable!
Her heart melted a bit at the thirty-year romance between them. It gave her hope for her and the guys. She turned toward Kincade. “While we’re gone, why don’t you and the pack work on fixing up the guest house for MacGregor and Mistress MacKay to use while they stay with us. They can make it their own and stay as long as they want.”
MacGregor appeared intrigued, while a light blush filled Mistress MacKay’s cheeks.
“Excellent idea.” Appreciation brightened Kincade’s eyes, and he brushed his lips against hers. “I’ll get the pack to begin immediately.”
Caedmon stiffened at the mention of the house, not that she could blame him, since he had been held prisoner there, possibly for years. He hadn’t shared his experience with her, and she didn’t feel like it was her place to pry.
She glanced at the clock, knowing it was time to leave, but couldn’t make her feet move. There was a quiet desperation to the guys last night, each of them carving out time to spend with her. It was rushed and hot…and perfect.
Unfortunately, no matter how much she didn’t want to leave, she didn’t have a choice.
Pulling up her big girl panties, she sighed and kissed each one of her mates as she headed toward the door. She kept it short, not allowing herself to linger or deepen the kiss, fearing that she would change her mind.
She needed to do this.
She came to the stop by the door, her lips tingling and bruised as she stared at her mates. “Be safe. Don’t do anything foolish.”
“We’ll be waiting for your return,” Kincade vowed, cupping her face. “Call us if you need us.”
“I promise.” She leaned into his touch, her body humming at his nearness. “Let me know if you run into trouble, and I’ll return immediately.”
His fingers brushed against her cheek, and it felt like she was leaving part of her soul behind when she pulled away. As if they knew how much it hurt, Ryder and Caedmon hustled her into the truck.
After only a mile down the road, it took everything in her to bite back the demand that Ryder turn back. She wasn’t sure if it was a premonition, or just an ache from being parted from her mates, but leaving them behind felt wrong. Desperate for a distraction, she glanced between the two men, then asked the question that bothered her.
“What the hell does it mean when a wolf presents themselves?”
Both of the males stiffened, and she knew she wasn’t going to like the answer.
Caedmon sighed, turning in his seat to glance back at her. “Presenting is a way a male can show interest in a female.”
“What the hell?!” Morgan lurched back and nearly swallowed her tongue at the unexpected answer. “He has to know that I’m already mated.”
She glanced between the two men, trying to glean answersfrom their silence. Once again, much to her surprise, it was Caedmon who caved.
“He knows.” Ryder glanced back at her and met her gaze. “He just doesn’t care. A woman as strong as you needs strong mates—and a lot of them.”
“Maybe.” She scowled, and the hairs on her arms lifted much like a dog defending their territory. “But something seems off about the wolf.”
To her surprise, both men nodded in agreement. She stiffened, suddenly pissed, and leaned forward with a growl. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?”
