“Might I remind you that I am the alpha now?” Tyler asks icily, his voice measured. “Whatever I say goes. And I insist that you and your son stay in my house until we fix your old cottage. Got it?”
As he turns on his heel slowly, he simply glances over his shoulder when he says, “Now, follow me. We'll avoid the patrol route so you can have some peace of mind without being questioned.”
Though his offer is one I should be grateful for since I get to avoid facing anyone else from the pack, especially after the day I've had, it comes layered with disdain from the coldness in his tone. It only serves as a reminder, as fuel to the fire of my hatred for him.
He's an obnoxious asshole, and he's always been that way. Now, I have to deal with my hatred for him while living in his house?
Great!
My only consolation is my son's safety, and the curiosity in his eyes when I lift him into my arms and follow Tyler into town.
I hate that I'm following him, faced with his back, allowing me to see the way his muscles move with every step he takes. It doesn't matter that he's built like a god with broad shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, as if he were carved in the image of the perfect man.
He's still the man who broke my heart with cruel words and rejection, and I still hate him. That's something that will never change.
Chapter 6 - Tyler
Arianna Hart is back in Portland, and I'm going out of my mind trying to remain as unbothered as I possibly can on the outside.
That's why I walk ahead of her and…her son.
The thought alone has a shiver running down my spine, settling at the base, and churning my insides at the notion of her being with another man.
Gulping hard, I nonchalantly point to a pathway that leads to my house near the forest, just a stone's throw away from the pack den. I keep my vision forward, not wanting to look that way in case it brings back memories of what happened the night of my farewell party.
I can't help but wonder if Arianna will remember that fateful night, or if she remembers me rejecting her after I'd made love to her against the pack den's back wall.
Clearing my throat to rid myself of the uncomfortable recollection, I point to my house—a cozy three-bedroom brick-faced building that was gifted to me by my father upon my return.
“This is my new place,” I say, stopping on the porch and turning around to welcome Arianna and her son inside. Catching a glimpse of the boy as I turn, I notice that Arianna's genes are strong. He looks like a carbon copy of his mother, and it makes me wonder who his father must be.
“You don't live with your parents anymore?” Arianna asks, and I feel compelled to explain.
“I returned from black ops a few months ago, and my father gave me this place to welcome me back. I was also inducted as an alpha upon my return.”
“Okay,” Arianna responds with hostility in her voice and a nonchalant shrug.
She doesn't seem to care about the details, and I don't know what I was expecting.
Besides, it's not like I was expecting to find her on the border when I went out to hunt. To make matters worse, she showed up with a child that she had with another man.
My blood boils, but I mask my irritation from those intrusive thoughts by turning back to the front door and pushing it open. I step aside and gesture for the pair to go inside, then flick on the light switch to douse the living room with light.
“Would you like a tour?” I ask sarcastically. “Or would you prefer I just show you to the guest bedrooms?”
“Noah and I will sleep in one room, thanks,” Arianna says as she stares blankly at the unlit fireplace.
Chuckling, I turn to her son, who yawns as he nuzzles into her arm.
“He seems like he's old enough to sleep on his own. Besides, I have three bedrooms here.”
Arianna presses her lips into a firm line and nods briskly, determined not to look at my face as she continues staring at the fireplace. Chuckling lowly under my breath, I prompt her to follow me down the hall, where I show her to the first guestroom.
“You can use the bedroom across from this one,” I say as I take the bag she removes from her son's shoulders and place it on the nightstand. “There's an ensuite bathroom in it.”
“Thanks,” Arianna says as she turns her back to me, tending to her son with all her attention.
With my heart racing and threatening make me snap at her for moving on so quickly, I march out with determination to douse my irritation with a bottle of whiskey. I get to the liquor cabinet in my living room, pull out the bottle, and get out a glass that I realize I'm clutching too tightly.
