I found my mates months ago and never even knew it. And at least one of them is less than thrilled at that prospect.
Azrael pounds his fist into something, a loud bang echoing through the door. “I am the leader of this flight and your alpha. I will decide what is best, and my decisions are final. I will not be lifting the illusion, and I refuse to have this discussion with you again.”
My feet propel me forward as I stumble to the door in a daze. I push it open and come face-to-face with four very shocked expressions. Azrael, though, doesn’t look surprised at all. Maybe he knew I was eavesdropping in the hallway. Or maybe he’s just good at hiding his emotions.
“Mate?” I whisper as I bounce my gaze between the five of them. Everyone but Azrael is standing clustered around a pair of black crushed velvet armchairs that face a stately desk.
Hal is gaping at me, his spring-green eyes wide in surprise. Remy’s giving me puppy-dog eyes as though he already knows I’m upset at him and hates it. Colt looks enraged, his jaw clenched, lips pressed tightly together, and fists balled at his sides. And Rook just looks resigned, his gray eyes holding a deep sadness.
Azrael is standing on the other side of a large walnut desk, facing off with the guys. One hand is shoved in his suit pants pocket and the other is clenched tightly at his side. He glares at me, as if I’m the one who caused all of this.
Azrael lets out a long-suffering sigh and shoves an agitated hand through his raven hair. “You might as well come in instead of lurking outside.”
Doing as he says, I take a few cautious steps inside what I guess is a study. My gaze skirts over the desk, chairs, black sofa, and gray stone fireplace before landing once more on the guys I was growing to trust.
The men who made me believe that people could be different. That hurt wasn’t lurking around every corner. That it was safe to open myself up to others.
But it wasn’t safe. They were hiding a huge fucking secret from me, just like the people back home always did.
“How long have you known?” When no one says anything, my voice cracks as I demand, “How fucking long have you known?”
“Since the day we met you,” Rook reluctantly admits. His stormy eyes are swimming with sadness, and his face is lined with heartbreak, but I can’t feel any sympathy for him.
Not when it feels like the five of them just took a sledgehammer to my heart and pulverized it. I struggle to breathe past the jagged shards lodged in my chest as I stare at the men I never should’ve let in.
They’ve known since we first met, and they didn’t say anything?
A high-pitched ringing noise echoes in my ears as I try to process it all, drowning out whatever the guys try to say to me. I can see their mouths moving as all four of them try to speak at once, but I can’t hear any of it.
All I can hear is Azrael calling me a complication, nothing but trouble, and a bad idea over and over and over. It repeats on a loop in my mind and fractures what little remains of my already broken heart.
Why didn’t they tell me?
Because they didn’t want me? Because I wasn’t good enough for them? Because they wanted more in a mate?
I can practically hear my mother’s delighted cackle as it turns out everything she ever said about me was right. I will never be enough for men like them to want me back. I’ll never be enough for my mates to want me like I want them.
A sob tries to rip out of my chest, but I forcefully swallow it down. I refuse to break down in front of them. I may not be good enough for them or what they wanted in a mate, but at least I can leave here with some of my pride intact.
I can’t do anything about the tears leaking out of my eyes and blurring my vision, though.
Shouting breaks through all the noise in my head, and I realize the room has devolved into a screaming match.
Hal, Colt, Remy, and even Rook are yelling over each other as Azrael watches them unravel with a cold, detached look on his face. When he notices me watching him, his aloofness transforms into white-hot anger.
He starts yelling back at the others, escalating the situation.
I back away from the five of them, their anger feeling like a physical punch to the gut right now. When my back brushes something smooth and cool, I turn around to see that I’mleaning against glass double doors. Beyond the doors is a grassy field that backs up to a forest.
Feeling like I’m suffocating under the weight of the knowledge that I’m not enough for them, I fumble around for the door handle. I open it almost silently and slip outside without anyone of them noticing.
After gulping in a few breaths of fresh air, I take off sprinting in the opposite direction of the house. I’m not thinking about where I’m going or whether I should be running off alone. All I’m thinking about is the pounding need to get as far away from the five of them as I can.
When I reach the forest, I keep running. I don’t care about the branches cracking against my legs, scraping my face, or trying to tangle around my ankles. I ignore it all and run as hard as I can.
I have no idea how long I’ve been running when I burst into a clearing that, unfortunately for me, isn’t empty.
The three men occupying the open space look up at my approach, and the leader gives me a slow, predatory smile.
