It rushes through me like a lit match, igniting every nerve still untouched by the spike.
My omega rushes forth.
“Mine,” I bark. Then lunge.
Kaiden
When Sylvan finally finds me, I don’t look up from my laptop.
After we discovered he’d left the house this morning, I was furious. We make decisions as a pack. He knows that. Out of all my packmates, I’ve never had to worry about Sylvan forgetting that rule. Until now.
Because of Revea.
He could have squandered every bit of progress we’d made, all because he couldn’t control himself. Another issue I’ve never known my second-in-command to have. He is always in control, sometimes too much. Which is why he often struggles to connect with others.
With women.
Until Revea.
So even after reading his messages about herperfectscent, I decided to distance myself for both our sakes.
It’s evening now. Luciano has confirmed Sylvan didn’t ruin our chances with Revea, and I’ve had all day to contemplate what I’ll say to him.
Doesn’t mean I’m ready to look at him.
“You almost fucked this up for us, Syl,” I murmur, typing harder than necessary.
The door closes softly as he steps further inside. “But I didn’t.”
I take a slow breath through my nose, biting my tongue. “No. You didn’t.”
And then, completely serious, he says, “I think you’re mad because I got her first.”
My hands still on the keyboard. Blood thumping in my veins.
Slowly, finally, I look at him over my screen. “Sylvan. Back down.”
My gaze bores into his wary one.
He frowns. “Why?” He moves towards me. “You’re pack alpha. Research states it should be you who initiates sexual intimacy in terms of hierarchy.” My fingers clench. “Although I only discovered that after Revea and I…”
He has enough sense not to complete that thought.
“Sorry,” Sylvan says, almost automatically. “But at least the outcome was positive.”
I hardly hear the second part of his sentence, because I’m still hooked on the first.
I hate when Sylvan apologises.
It was all he ever did during our early years of training. When we first met, to our superiors, to any cadet who called him weird. It’s a defence mechanism, something he’d learnt to say in reaction to certain emotions or expressions.
Eventually, he just stopped talking unless he had to. Because he always thought it would end in an apology.
And now I’ve made him apologise to me.
I sigh. “Sit down, Syl.”
He does, and I close my laptop.
