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“And how do you think things would have went if he’d tried that here? That he’d get a fair trial?” She shook her head sharply. “He would have been dead before he could have laid a second blow. So, let's talk about this. About Aidan, Peter, or Rick. Your choice.”
“My choice?” I got up and paced around the woman’s—no, alpha’s very nice room. I’d been told of her standing in the pack as we’d driven up. Peter and Aidan were sitting with Kade in the reception area, while I got time to ‘talk.’ “What choice do I have? I’m Peter’s mate, Aidan’s basically moved in, and everyone is being so sweet, but in some ways, that makes it worse. I only just got out from under one guy, and now I’m tied to two others. I can’t ask them to leave ever, because it hurts Kade, because it hurts…”
“Yes?” Ophelia said, sitting slightly forward.
“It just hurts.”
“In what way?” she said, looking pointedly at my posture.
Unbeknownst to me, my arms had wrapped around my body, my fingernails starting to rake against my skin. I was damn lucky every time I woke up after being next to my family that I felt a thousand times better, that the bruises were disappearing at a remarkable rate.
Family?
I looked at her, this alpha, sitting in her office chair in a pearl grey suit, looking the picture of poise and elegance.
“You know what I’m feeling,” I said, putting my hands down with effort.
“I do,” she said, nodding slowly. “I had several mates myself, men I loved dearly. They are long gone now, though I remember that bond like it was yesterday. But I was born here. I grew up expecting to be drawn to many men, to whittle down the possibles to those I could give my heart to. You haven’t had that yet.”
“What do you mean, yet?”
“Well, you can reject the mate bond, take it back if you like.”
“What?” Both our eyes dropped to where my fingers formed claws on my thighs.
“It’s not a life sentence. You’re not compelled to stay together forever. You choose to. Choose Peter, choose Aidan, choose whoever you wish, or none. The single men have been petitioning me like crazy for an opportunity to get to know you. More and more are crashing the married mess meal times to ‘catch up with family’ for a chance to see you. If you were open to a very simple meet and greet, it would be a tremendous help in managing the situation.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
She flipped a hand nonchalantly. “When a girl moves into womanhood and decides to take on a pack, we have all the single men wishing to be considered assemble in the meeting hall. Women control the process. If you wish to meet them one by one, we set you up in an adjoining room. I
f you want to just take a look, see if anyone jumps out to either you or your wolf, we have a one-way mirror set up on one of the walls. Younger women often use this, as they’re still adjusting to the idea of taking mates. Actually, I might do that anyway, even if you’re not there. It’ll keep them sweet until you decide what you want to do.”
“So, what? I just look over a group of men like I was in a shopping aisle or something, then decide which ones to take home? Do I try before I buy? And what’s the return policy?”
“Flick, I think this is all too soon for you, which makes sense. I told you this only because I wanted to be clear—you have a choice. You can take many or no mates, that’s entirely up to you. You’ll be accepted here no matter what. It will take some adjusting for Peter, but that shouldn’t deter your decision.”
She was so calm and understanding. So why did I feel like she’d cut my legs out from under me? I wanted to feel angry and trapped, and she just dissolved the cage I’d created for myself in a few words. Which led to the next question—why did I need a cage?
“So why don’t you tell me about the boys, if that’s what’s on your mind? How are they?”
“They’re lovely.” I blinked, the words out of my mouth before I could think twice. “I mean, they want to do everything for us. Aidan dotes on Kade, and even Peter tries to engage with him. But he seems more focussed on me, and I think his size scares Kade a bit. But they cook and clean, and are always there when I need them and…” I sighed. “It’s kinda sickening really.”
“Sickening? That’s an interesting word. Tell me about that.”
“Well, it's just all a bit OTT. Like I wouldn’t want some guy expecting me to slave over him.”
“And do you expect them to ‘slave’ over you?”
“Well, no. I don’t have to say a thing. Things just get done. All I say is thank you.”
“Which is perhaps why they do this ‘sickening’ stuff. If it makes you feel ill at ease, why not tell them to stop? I’m sure both would hate to make you feel distressed.”
Yes, why don’t you?
“It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable. They aren’t hovering over me, hemming me in, or being overprotective. Rather, it’s like they…just see me, and what I need, when I need it. And they seem so bloody happy to do it, as if they like caring for me.”
“And that’s the sickening part?”
