Page 19 of Pistols & Peonies

“I’m not,” he intones, setting the tablet back down and steepling his fingers. “When you were promoted to Commander, you swore to serve the pack, Kane. This serves the pack. Or…” his brows lift, “are you no longer interested in holding your rank? Maybe you want to retire, live a quiet life with your new mate, raise some pups…”

I grind my molars, glaring back at him. He knows damn well that I’d rather chew glass than give up my position for a life of domesticity. If that were the case, I never would’ve gone through with his damn Pairing in the first place.

“No?” he asks rhetorically.

I just keep glaring, fighting the very real urge to punch the smug smirk off his face.

“I’ll get everything arranged, then,” he continues with a dismissive wave. “I’m putting Hawkins on it. His team will have her moved into your place in the Tower by this afternoon.”

A pulse of pressure hits behind my eyes. I exhale slowly, squeezing them shut as I rub at my temple. “Fine.”

I rarely stay in my apartment here anyway. She can have the place all to herself.

He picks up his tablet again, seemingly satisfied. “Photos are at three p.m. tomorrow,” he murmurs, fingers swiping across the screen. “Diana’s arranging wardrobe. It’ll be delivered sometime today.”

I grunt in assent, gaze drifting back to the window.

As if I’m not already busy enough with my duties as Commander.

This whole mate thing is turning out to be even more of a pain in the ass than I thought it’d be.

“And before you go thinking you’ll just take off to your lake house and deal with this tomorrow,” he adds, pausing until I drag my eyes back to him, “I want you to stay here tonight with your mate. Get comfortable with one another. It’ll make the photo session go smoother tomorrow.”

My jaw goes rigid, but my wolf perks up like a lovesick idiot, tail wagging at the idea. Traitor.

“Anything else, boss?” I grit out, trying and failing to stop my mind from conjuring up an image of Violet last night, naked beneath the moonlight. Fuck.

The corner of Gage’s mouth twitches upward. “Yeah. Do yourself a favor and get laid, Kane. You clearly need it.”

And just like that, my brain betrays me again, picturing her panting and writhing beneath me.

“The post-run summary’s in your inbox,” I mutter, shoving up from the chair with a scowl. “Nothing of significance. A few minor scuffles, but it’s handled.”

He hums in acknowledgement, already thumbing through his tablet again.

I turn on my heel and stalk toward the door, irritation thrumming hot under my skin. My wolf is pacing, eager and hopeful, making everything inside me feel too tight.

I nearly tear the door off its hinges when I yank it open to leave.

Alpha wants optics? He’s about to get them.

Whether or not they’re the kind he’s after is his own damn problem.

CHAPTER 8

Kane

I’ve been wearing scuff marks into the floorboards with how much I’ve been pacing. I walked in after work fully expecting Violet to already be here invading my space, tossing her shit everywhere and throwing my meticulously ordered apartment into chaos. Instead, I found a small stack of boxes lined up neatly in the entryway. Not many– either she’s a minimalist, or she only packed essentials– and more importantly, no girl.

Irritating.

Not because I want her here, but because I’d already braced for the impact. I’d prepped for the disruption and the inevitable confrontation. Now, I’m stuck in this hazy, restless state of waiting that I can’t stand. The kind of uncertainty that crawls under my skin, grates on my nerves, and drives me up the fucking wall.

I’m seconds from swallowing my pride and calling Hawkins for an update when my inner wolf suddenly perks up, followed by the sound of a brisk knock at the door.

She’s here.

I don’t have to open it to know– I feel it in my chest, the tether of our mate bond pulling taut and sending my wolf into a goddamn frenzy. He surges forward with a rush of excitement so fierce it’s almost painful, claws raking against my ribs.