ALEC.
I made it exactly three steps into my packhouse before Alec Thorn descended on me like the wrath of every Goddess combined.
He didn’t shout.That was worse.
He grabbed my arm, spun me around, and stared at me with that terrifying Alpha calm—the kind that usually precedes violence, war, or very aggressive mating.
“You,” he said quietly, “are going to explain yourself.”
I blinked up at him. “Hi to you too?”
“Layrndale,” he continued, voice clipped. “Prison. Silver. An Alpha’s son. A rejected mate. And you did all of this—” he gestured vaguely at my very armed appearance, “—without me.”
I smiled sweetly. “You look stressed.”
His jaw ticked.
“I almost broke Alpha training,” he growled. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to stop when every instinct is screaming that my mate is i
