Page 25 of Bad Blood Alpha

Of forgiveness.

Kira could see Sloan’s shoulders relax as he heaved out a deep sigh.

They all came into the house after that. She could hear them toweling off in the entryway, bickering over the dry sweats on the shelf or picking up their clothes from the living-room floor. There was more talk, now—friendly insults and occasional bursts of laughter. Only Caitlyn and Sloan were left on the porch. Kira watched through the window, unable to tear herself away from the obvious love between them.

Sloan wrapped his arms around his mate, holding her close. “Why can’t I do this?” he said, frustrated. “Why the fuck can’t I control my cat?”

“Hey,” she said softly. “You’re doing way, way better. Remember when you couldn’t even find your cat during a storm?”

He nodded.

“Remember when the two of you saved my life?”

He rolled his eyes a little, and she gave his shoulder a playful smack. “No eye-rolling. You’re my hero. Deal with it.”

Sloan kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She cupped his face in her hands and made him look in her eyes. “A little stronger every day, right?”

“Right.”

Caitlyn gave him a long, sweet, hot kiss, and Kira felt a little sting at the back of her eyes.

Oh, no. She blinked back the tears. She wasn’t getting all sentimental. She couldn’t afford to do that. Not now, with everything riding on this.

But there was this strange ache in the middle of her chest. And it didn’t get any better when she heard Xander say, “Hey, Ursa Major. What the hell was up with Protect-a-Bear tonight? Lissa wasn’t even in the fight.”

Kira turned around. Caitlyn and Sloan had come inside, and everyone was drifting into the kitchen. Brody was pouring coffee, and people were wrangling over the cream and sugar.

Tank was leaning against the end of the breakfast bar, one arm possessively around Lissa. “It’s a bear thing,” he rumbled in his deep voice.

Lissa nudged him. “Go ahead. Tell them. You know you want to.”

Tank’s face went red. “You tell them.”

“Okay.” A huge smile spread across Lissa’s face. “Big Bear got a little overprotective because I have a baby bear bun in the oven. I’m pregnant.”

The whole room erupted with squeals and exclamations, people crowding around, hugging and congratulating, asking questions and not listening to the answers.

Everyone except Kira, alone in the corner by the window.

And Flynn, leaning against the counter by the coffee machine. After congratulating them, clapping Tank on the shoulder and cat-kissing Lissa, he’d faded to the background. Now he was watching his crew, a half-smile curving his mouth.

But his eyes looked troubled.

As if he could feel her watching him, Flynn turned his head and met Kira’s eyes.

The union of these two, the Draken Princess of Al-Maddeiri and the Lion Consort, will be the salvation of the draken.

The words sounded in her head, clear as a bell. Words she hadn’t really understood, as a five-year-old child.

Words she didn’t really understand now. The Al-Maddeiri were no more, and the rest of the dragons didn’t need saving.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Flynn turned his head and met her eyes.

He wouldn’t want any part of a “union” with her. Why should he? He had this—an extended family to protect. She had a target on her back. She’d bring nothing but trouble to them all.

The congratulations and back-slapping were dying down, though people were still chattering excitedly. Suddenly, Tank looked up and followed Flynn’s gaze.