Page 68 of Unforgivable

Rhet

"What has you looking so pensive, beautiful?" I kiss her shoulder, ignoring the taste of mating venom that hits my tongue. She smells of my brothers, and it's driving my wolf and me out of our minds. My wolf sees Lyri as his female, his pack, but I won't screw this up by subjecting her to a false Claim.

"Hmm?" she turns, a vague smile on her face. I examine her eyes, searching for pain, for shame, for any of the negative emotions she has lingering in those gorgeous eyes too often. I see a hint of sorrow, but that's all.

"What are you thinking about?" I repeat. I hope she's not still dwelling over those mountain punks or that mini prick, beta-pup. Hopefully, she's just imagining my brother's dicks. Something nice, for once. I doubt it, though, not after what mini prick-beta said to her.

"It's Penny's birthday soon. She'll be twelve," she murmurs. She frowns.

"You should buy her something," I tell her.

Real sorrow hits her, "I don't have any money, Rhet. And, before you volunteer, I can't take anything else from you all."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "You can and will. This is your home, now, sweetheart. You're pack."

She winces, "am I?" Hazel eyes search mine. I can see the strength in her, the intelligence. "We had a deal, Rhet. You've lived up to your end of our bargain." A blush heats her cheeks, "I won't take your money, not so blatantly." Frustration dances across her face. "I can't cook, can't ride on my own. I don't know much about cows or horses or even chickens. I clean, that's all, and you could just hire a maid for that. I need to do something, Rhet. Other than... you know."

"That's why I asked you if you garden," I tell her. "We don't ever have one, and Ez always complains that he wants fresher veggies." Liar. Fresher veggies? We're wolves and males; we barely know what a vegetable is.

I just don't want her to think I brought her here only to be a soft body to warm us up. I did intend that, sort of, but not so that she can prostitute herself to us for protection. Shit, I mean, that is the deal, but I don't want her to believe that of her, or us. She's so much more than I could have ever hoped for.

Lyri's eyes narrow on me. "You don't have a garden? On a ranch? Really?"

"I mean, it might be nice, no? Despite your failure with the pumpkin, I mean." I just dig my hole deeper and deeper. "And, you can take over the chickens, that's easy. And there's Ezra's sheep," I tell her.

Fuck me. I don't want sheep.

"Sarj takes care of the chickens," she says cooly. Her arms cross over her chest, her chin tilts up, challenging me.

I swallow more venom down. Don't bite her. Even if she's perfectly sexy, challenging me, I can't Mark her. It wouldn't stay on her pretty neck, anyway. "He needs help," I manage to get out without slurring my words through protruding canines.

"No, he does not. Because I already help him, and it takes a half-hour, tops. And," she stresses, "it only takes that long because he greets each hen by name and pets them!"

I snag her by the waist and slam my mouth down on her sassy, impertinent one. "Bad, bad female," I mutter against her lips. I devour her, and she gives back every bit I take. "Naughty," I rasp. I pull away, staring into her eyes. She glares at me, mouth swollen, cheeks pink, desire on her face.

Shit.

I run away. Like a fucking coward, I just sprint from the house, leaving Lyri watching me, probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

I can't deal with it. Those eyes, staring up at me, fire and heat in their depths. She doesn't know about me. She doesn't understand what I've done to her. If she knew, then she would look at me with hate, and I'm too cowardly to accept that.

"Rhet. Yo, bro, what the-"

I push past Ezra without speaking. He scents of our female. I don't want to punch my brother in the face just because he has the pleasure of being with Lyri when I'm too chicken-shit to risk it. I want to go for a run, but I know that Ezra or Thjis will follow me, and I need to lose my family for a moment. Just a moment.

I jump in the truck instead. It's not until I'm halfway to town that I realize that I'm headed for a fight. I don't even particularly care who I fight with. I just want someone to bleed, to take away this pain driving me insane. I lost my truemate, and I thought it would kill me. If I lose Lyri, than I think it really will be my end.

The Watering Hole is hopping. Lights and music spill out into the night. Perfect. There's always some asshole hanging around looking to tangle with a bigger, badder wolf.

When I step inside the bar, the noise dies down. I can see the shock and utter discomfort in most of the wolves' eyes. I am not born to this pack, and my wolf's natural dominance puts a lot of wolves on edge. I'm not an alpha, not really. My mom's father may have been an alpha, but dad was only a pack warrior, not even a Beta. Still, I'm too powerful for being unranked in the hierarchy of the RustClaw.

"'Sup, Owen?" I greet the bartender casually. I let my gaze settle on a few males who are eyeing me up, trying to judge whether or not they could win in a fight. I eye them back. They don't stand a fucking chance. Sadly, they all seem to understand it and look away.

"Rhet," Owen greets me shortly. He slides a beer my way without my asking for it. He's not a very dominant wolf despite his job, so it's in his nature to appease me quickly.

"Thanks," I grunt out before taking a swig.

"How's things?" Owen says with forced casualness.

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