17
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Hailey
Jordan’s rants were growing more and more incoherent as he paced in front of me. Somewhere, in all his yelling, he’d accused me of not only leaving him at the altar, but of being the one responsible for the downfall of his entire clan.
“What do you mean? Just because I’m not marrying you, the clan is falling apart?” I didn’t understand, and none of it made sense.
“Everyone thinks I’m weak. Unworthy to be the next Alpha. Even my own father doesn’t think I’m good enough. I can tell by the way he looks at me,” he ranted.
I watched him warily as he paced back and forth, going on and on about Travis and the others. His dirty shirt was stained yellow under the arms and clung to his chest, and trickles of perspiration ran down his forehead. He impatiently swiped a forearm
