He nods. Then looks to Noah for his answer.
“She was like a little angry hornet when she boarded our jet. Her fighting back is a turn-on.” He shrugs. “I like that she’s a strong mate. It’ll help her survive our pack.”
“But do you think she aided in the assassination attempt?” Laz presses.
“Does it matter?” Noah counters.
“If she were anyone else, it absolutely would,” Laz points out. “So yes, I think it matters. Not because I want to punish her for it—at least not in a traditional sense—but because we have to decide if we can trust her.”
Silence falls between the three of us.
“She can’t have confidence in us if we don’t have faith in her allegiance,” Laz adds after a moment of contemplation. “And trust is vital for her approaching heat.”
“Then let’s talk to her,” Noah suggests, being a voice of reason—which isn’t his usual mode. “We’ll tell her that if she tried to get Johan kidnapped or killed, we forgive her. If she didn’t, then we’ve wasted time debating on how to proceed.”
“I’m going to amend only slightly and suggest that Laz talk to her. Noah and I are not the issue here.”
Laz arches a brow. “And I am?”
“Yes.” I close my laptop and set it to the side. “You’re the one questioning her loyalty.”
I lift my hand to halt him when he starts to reply.
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Laz.” I voice the words quietly, wanting him to hear me.
“Then what are you saying?” he demands.
“I’m pointing out that it’s your responsibility as our don to protect the pack. And it’s the pack’s responsibility to be loyal to you. If you’re questioning her motives, you’re questioning her worth. So talk to her. That’s the only way you’ll be able to determine if she’s truly meant to be ours or not.”
Noah makes a noise of discontent, clearly disagreeing with the concept of hernotbeing meant for us.
While I agree, I don’t voice it aloud.
Because, as I said, this isn’t my issue. This is Laz’s query.
Noah and I have more than accepted our fate. Fuck, Noah’s already professed his love and proposed. He might be psychotic, but he means every word he’s said to her.
And I’ve been enamored with the woman since I discovered her on the dark web. There’s no question in my mind that she’s ours.
Laz is the only one holding himself back.
“Go tell her how you feel. Hear her out. And we’ll determine how to proceed from there.” I push out of my seat and grab my laptop. “Meanwhile, Noah and I will be in the gym.”
I could use a workout after all this bullshit. And I know the only way to distract Noah right now is with a good sparring session.
“Or we could go knot our omega again,” Noah says, glaring at me. “I would enjoy that more than kicking your ass.”
My lips curl. “Kick my ass and I’ll let you knot me there.” It’s an invitation and a promise, one that has his nostrils flaring.
It doesn’t matter that we already went two rounds with Lark today. We’re both pent up and on the edge of a serious rut. He knows that as well as I do.
The moment she goes into heat, we’re fucked. Literally.
She’s going to be ripped apart by our aggression. Assuming Laz comes to his damn senses and indulges in our omega’s heat.
Though, even if he decides she’s not pack—which had better not fucking happen—Noah and I won’t be able to stay away from her.
“She’s ours, Laz,” I tell him. “So go talk to her. Apologize. Earn her loyalty and respect. Kiss her. Knot her. Claim her. I don’t fucking care. Just do whatever you need to do to resolve this doubt. Or it’s going to destroy our pack.”
