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I clenched my fists, not even able to look the asshole in the eye, and shook myself from my bitter thoughts. Our time was up. We all knew it. Any moment now, his jealous wolf would send us packing.
It seemed ridiculous to put on the clothes bunched in one hand, seeing as I would be heading straight back to my room and curling up in bed with the man I loved. I’d take the fluffy towel, though. Grimm thought he was being so sly with his affection but we’d noticed the little touches he’d added to his den to take care of our mate.
Fluffy towels and specialty shower gels and shit. Things to make a woman feel at home.
He wanted Sasha to prefer his den to ours. That was one of the reasons we’d set Sasha up with her own quarters above her pub. We wanted her to have a place where she could control the pace of life and escape all this testosterone bullshit.
The constant sting of being forced to choose was wearing her down, no matter how much she tried to hide it.
Well, fuck Grimm. This fluffy towel was now my hostage. It smelled like her so I was taking it back to the den I shared with my other mate and I’d be snuggling it all damn night as I quietly wept. It was already wet. What would it matter if a few salty additions made their way onto the damp piece of cloth?
The infuriating thing was our den—a space which had been our sanctuary—felt empty and meaningless now without Sasha’s unique scent lingering on the air. And it was never there because we spent what little time we had with her here, in the clubhouse, or helping her prepare Sasha’s Den for customers.
But, I reminded myself, no matter how gut-wrenching this process felt, it was the natural progression. Now that Grimm had claimed her, of course Sasha would live in his den. He was the alpha. He worked his ass off to provide for all of us, so I couldn’t begrudge him his due.
I fucking missed her, though.
Nope. Enough.
Sasha had chosen me, us—fuck, all three of us—and that knowledge would have to be enough to carry me through the dark hours, minutes and seconds until I could see her again. Her love, our connection, burned in my soul. We were bonded as fated mates should be. Nothing could take that away from us now. And I knew Mongrel felt the same.
Grimm could send us on a run to the other end of the Chaos Valley and our bond would burn just as bright, no matter how many physical miles we put between our bodies.
“Lay our mate on the bed, Mongrel.”
I felt Mongrel’s rage spiral, quick and feral, before he carefully banked all emotion from our bond. My heart ached for him. He was suffering from being cut out of this part of our mating, even if the stoic beta hid it better.
With stiff legs, he strode to the bed and all but tossed Sasha into the middle. He didn’t count on our mate’s silent but passionate protest, though. The feisty little female refused to let go, nearly taking the furious wolf down with her.
I chuckled, dryly. Sasha had gotten a heck of a lot stronger since Grimm had put a wolf in her. She hadn’t really flexed yet, but I had a feeling her dominant little devil could go toe to toe with most of the wolves in our pack and beyond.
Mongrel stumbled but caught himself on the bed, refusing to give. With a stiff spine, my beta turned to face off with the Prez with a snarl. Uh oh. He wasn’t messing around.
Something about the way Sasha’s body had been tossed onto the bed jostled loose the horrible memory I hadn’t been able to stop reliving since our battle. Every fucking time I closed my eyes, even in some of my waking moments, too.
Blood oozed from Sasha’s gut while Venom slowly crushed the life from her veins. His ruthless hand—more claw than human—wrapped around her throat. Our mate’s legs slowly stopped moving as her lifeblood dripped, dripped, dripped to the floor from the soles of her shoes.
Unable to reach her, I’d lain there on the floor, barely conscious as the silver knife lodged in my ribs sent agony rippling through my frame. But was it the agony of my imminent death or hers? In that moment, separating the two was pointless. Our pain was one and the same.
The flashback stole the breath from my lungs and caused my legs to quiver. Fuck this feeling sorry for myself crap. That dark memory was the real reason I would always bow down to Grimm’s over-possessive wolf, even if I hadn’t been his omega.
Grimm had saved our mate. Snatched her from death’s clutches and given Sasha a fierce little she-wolf which so perfectly matched her badass soul. If that meant I would have to live the rest of my life struggling to sleep in her absence, it was a small price to pay knowing she was firmly wrapped in my alpha’s protective embrace. At least, in his arms, she would be safe.
“Night, Sasha,” I mumbled, wincing at the dull tone.
I caught Mongrel’s eye and sent him a quick shake of the head. His snarl shifted cut off, his shoulders slumping in defeat. In this, he would take my lead. And the last thing I wanted was to see Mongrel and Grimm going at each other’s throats, even if I did want to kick the Prez in the nuts.
A rough hand wrapped around my neck as I passed, holding me in place. My feet froze. An omega’s role was clear. When your alpha laid his hands on you, you waited to find out what that fucker wanted.
“Where do you think you’re going, pup?” Grimm growled, causing my wolf to slink low in concern.
Dammit, I hadn’t covered well enough. He’d picked up on my resentment. I hunched my shoulders away from the dominance battering my poor animal without even trying. “Don’t worry, alpha, we were just leaving. Weren’t we, Mongrel?”
Mongrel grunted, backing me up.
“Like fuck you are,” Grimm snarled. “You are staying right here. In my—our—den. Understood, wolf?”
The Prez’s command shot through me like a whip as my heart started thumping wildly.
