She needed to think about it, as much as it hurt to mull over whether or not her whole life had been needlessly narrow and stifled up until now. But—
A sickeningly familiar scent hit her nose.
Lydia growled. It wasn’t the first time she had accidentally let that sound slip out when she was still on two legs, but this was the roughest and most intense it had ever been. It grated on her throat like sandpaper, and she didn’t even care.
Reeve.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t known he might come back. There had always been a timer in the back of her mind, counting down to the last words of Ruth’s funeral, when his chance would be gone for good, and she’d known they weren’t there yet. But she’d still let herself hope.
Ruth wouldn’t have let herself hope.
But Ruth wasn’t here. She was, and so was Case.
And she wasn’t going to let him face Reeve down alone.
She was so distracted by having Reeve’s stink back in her nose again that she was almost to the door before she recognized that there was another new scent here too. This one didn’t ring any bells.
Female. About my age. Scared but—she took a deeper sniff—steeled for trouble. And ....
Mated.
She could smell it, like Ruth had smelled it on her and Case. The mate-bond between two wolves was like a living thing with a distinct scent of its own.
This one didn’t smell healthyorstrong, but it was still there. There was a rank physicality to it, a stink of sex and fear-sweet, like the bond had been created under tense and desperate circumstances, with little more than the initial consummation to hold it together. It didn’t smell anything like her bond with Case, but that didn’t matter when it came to an alpha challenge, did it? All that mattered was the fight and who was allowed in it.
Reeve hadn’t run away to escape a fight he wasn’t up for. He’d done it to even the odds as fast as possible.
The battle wasn’t two-to-one anymore. There was no advantage on their side.
She guessed it was good to know that before she even had to come face-to-face with Reeve once more, so her surprise wouldn’t show. He’d already gotten to shock Case. She didn’t want to add to his feeling of smug self-satisfaction.
“Lydia,” Reeve said, as she stepped into view. His voice was almost a purr. “It’s good to see you again.”
Lydia ignored him and held her hand out to his mate instead. If they were going to do this, there was no reason they couldn’t be civilized about it.
Civilized about a tooth-and-nail fight that might go to the death? Sure, why not?
“Hi,” she said, forcing a thin smile that she doubted she could keep up for very long. “I’m Lydia Vasquez. This is my mate, Case Jackson. We already know Reeve, obviously, but what’s your name?”
The young woman tensed up even more, if that were possible. She clearly hadn’t expected this kind of reaction.
It gave Lydia a chance to study her a little more closely. She was in her early twenties, and she had a lean and hungry look that made Lydia suspect she’d lived a hard life. She carried herself like someone who was ready for a fight, but there was a kind of youthful yearning in her gaze that said she hoped it wouldn’t come.
“Meg,” the other woman said finally, clasping Lydia’s hand. “Meg Lindley.”
“MegSteele,” Reeve said.
A little ripple of disgust ran over Meg’s features. “I haven’t changed my name yet,” she said tersely. “There’s a lot of paperwork for that.”
Reeve clearly wasn’t thinking about it as a choice Meg would make or a process she would go through, though. He thought it should have happened automatically.
Lydia wouldn’t have minded becoming a Jackson. She had never felt that close to her mom, especially since both her parents had basically handed her over to Ruth. It might be nice to have a name tied to Case instead.
But even if she’d come from a family she activelydespised, or even if her name had been something truly heinous like Lydia Buttwiper, she still wouldn’t have taken Reeve’s name as her own. The prospect of it left her with a visceral disgust. It was interesting that even Meg, who’d been able to bring herself to bond with him, seemed to feel the same way.
Well, Lydia had said once that only a desperate woman would be willing to marry Reeve. It looked like she might have been right about that.
“Nice to meet you, MegLindley,” Case said, putting the tiniest emphasis on the last word.
