Because even though I promised Julien I wouldn’t do that, I don’t know if I can keep that promise if there’s no place for me in his pack. I grew up in a pack that didn’t accept me and trying to fill that void almost killed me. Fated mates or not, claimed or not, if his pack won’t accept me, I have no idea where that leaves me except for me to, well,leave.
For one, because I don’t need to get anymore attached to Julien than I already am. The last thing I want to do is come between Julien and his pack, and I’d never ask him to step down just for me—if he’d even be willing to do that just for me. That would only be a recipe for resentment.
I sigh. Maybe I should just go back to bed for a while. Things might look better when—
The front door swings open with a bang and I jolt, jumping to my feet, my muscles instinctively tensing as if preparing for a fight. A large man—an alpha I don’t recognize—strolls through the now open front door like he owns the place. He’s bulky, but soft in that ‘middle-aged man gone to seed’ type of way and what little hair there is on his head is blond.
I straighten, narrowing my eyes at the new arrival. “Who the hell are you?”
The alpha ignores my question as he runs his gaze over me, a sneer on his face. “So, you’re the whore who’s leading my nephew around by the dick.”
Thirty
Keir
Beingcalledawhoreis an accusation I really would have liked to be wearing pants for, but it is what it is. Besides, this guy is inmyhouse talking crap aboutmymate and—
Huh. Who knew all I needed to take my mind off of my ‘woe is me’ attitude is this asshole alpha insinuating I’m a prostitute?
I hold back the growl that wants to break free from my chest, my wolf wanting nothing more than to rake my claws over the guy’s stupid face. Unfortunately, he’s related to Julien—as short and stubby as that branch of the family tree seems to be—so attacking him wouldn’t be the best idea. I’ll play nice. For now.
“Hello. I’m Keir,” I say as politely as possible while plastering what’s hopefully a friendly-ish smile on my face. “I know the whole me being a guy part is a little unorthodox, but Julien and I are fated mates, so—”
“Bullshit.” He crosses his arms over his barrel chest.
Okay then.
I release a careful, quiet breath, pushing down my temper, and try again. “I might not be what you expected, but I am definitely—”
“Some low-life, degenerate loner who latched onto Julien so you could join a prosperous pack?”
Be nice. Be nice. Be nice.I chant to myself, trying to remind my wolf thatripping this asshole’s head off is a bad idea.
“Look,” I say, my words coming out through my teeth. “I think you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot and maybe we should wait for Julien to clear all this up before you say something you can’t take back.” Well, somethingelseanyway.
“I don’t care what you think,” he says. “My nephew had a perfectly good mating alliance in the works before you came along and tricked him. Julien isn’t a f—”
And that’s about as much as I can take.
“Don’t you dare,” I hiss, all desire to be diplomatic gone. After putting up with plenty of people just like this guy while growing up in Alabama, I refuse to make nice with bigots. “You want to call me a whore? Fine. There’s nothing wrong with safe and consensual sex work anyway. But you willnotdisrespect Julien in my presence, and you damn sure will not use that word.”
The alpha looks me up and down, then sneers at me. “And what areyougoing to do about it?”
My teeth grow sharper and I curl my upper lip in a snarl. “Leave.”
“You can’t kick me out of my nephew’s house.”
I rise slowly to my feet, feeling my nails lengthen as I go. “The hell I can’t. This is my house, too.”
Well, presumably. The house should technically be considered my territory since Julien and I have completed the mate bond, but it’s not something he and I have actually talked about—just another one of the many, many things I need to discuss with him.
“You think I’m scared of you?”
My nostrils flare. “You should be.”
A growl rumbles in my chest, and he matches the sound. My gaze glued to his, I widen my stance and prepare to pounce on him.
“What the hell is going on in here?” exclaims a woman standing in the kitchen doorway with her hands on her hips. She’s middle-aged and maybe my height, with blue eyes and a familiar shade of blonde hair. “Everett, just what do you think you’re doing?”
