Page 46 of Bad Blood Panther

Chapter 17

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Xander rose to his feet and stared at the little boy in Jenny’s arms. Brandon scowled at him.

That was his face, Xander realized. And that was his “I fucking hate everyone” scowl.

Terror, fury, and numb confusion converged on him like colliding ocean waves, knocking him breathless. The kid was the right age, a tiny still-rational part of his mind told him. A few months over two, maybe, and he’d been with Jenny three years ago. That one time.

His cat had gone very still. Ours, he said. Cub.

Sloan came over to Xander, putting his hand on Xander’s back.

“Dude. You okay?”

“Not even a little,” Xander said, staring at his mate and her son. His son.

“Is he really yours?” Sloan asked.

“Bad Cindi. Made Mrs. Ducking dirty.” Brandon glared after the receding truck. Then he caught sight of a squirrel running across the clearing. “Skerrill!” he shrieked, bouncing in Jenny’s arms. “Kill it?”

Sloan shook his head, grinning. “Never mind.”

Somebody took Brandon’s things out of the middle of the yard. Everyone else melted away, back to whatever they’d been doing.

Xander just stood, frozen in place. His mate. His son. He had a son.

And Jenny hadn’t told him. She’d come here, let him fall in love with her, promised to be his mate. And she hadn’t told him about this.

She walked up to him slowly, still holding Brandon. He was sucking on one of his little fists, staring at Xander.

“Xander,” Jenny said, “this is Brandon. Brandon,” she smoothed his hair back from his forehead, “this is your daddy.”

Brandon frowned. “Not Daddy Alpha.” Fuck. He meant Alton.

“No, baby,” Jenny said. “This is your real daddy.”

She raised her eyes to Xander’s. She mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t deal. Everything he’d been through in the last three years came crashing down on him—again. Everything he’d dreamed, everything he’d lost, all the people who’d betrayed him.

He felt like he was going to detonate, and vaporize everything within a hundred feet of him. He heard, from far away, a muffled growling, and realized it was coming from him. His head started going crazy the way it did when his panther was caught between rage and pain and longing.

He backed away, unable to control the noises his cat was making. Then he turned and ran for his truck. Pulling the keys down off the visor, he started it up and peeled out, leaving his fucked-up life in the dust.

Jenny stared after Xander, too numb to feel any pain.

Of course he’d run. What had she expected? She’d come here under false pretenses, ripped open old wounds, and just when he was starting to be happy, she’d hit him with this.

He was going to hate her now. She just hoped he didn’t hate Brandon too.

She kissed her son’s sticky cheek, and he squirmed.

“Thusty,” he said. “Want juice.”

“I’ll see if I can find some, baby.”

“Hey.” She started at the sound of Sloan’s voice. “You want some help with his stuff?”