The hospital room was thick enough to choke on, thick with Rory’s scent. Three Alphas stood at her bedside, their eyes locked onto the unconscious girl who had unknowingly gone into a coma.
Alexander crossed his arms, his sharp blue eyes scanning the other two with calculated intensity. “We can stand here all day, but that won’t change the fact that she’s mine.”
Maverick let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Bold words for someone who just arrived. I’ve known Rory since we were little.”
Lachlan, who had remained very silent, finally spoke. “And yet, that doesn’t matter now, does it?” His voice was cool, but there was a razor-sharp edge beneath it. “If history determined fated mates, then you wouldn’t have competition.”
Maverick’s jaw tightened. That stung more than it should have.
