The blare of my alarm had no business being that aggressive. I slapped the screen until the shrieking stopped, groaning into my pillow. Since when did I even set alarms? Yeah—officially losing my mind.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and last night punched me square in the face.
Me, standing toe-to-toe with the quads.
Me, yelling back.
Me, walking out on four emotionally constipated Alphas like I had a death wish.
Bold? Yes.
Smart? Debatable.
Did I regret it?
…Kind of.
They were my future Alphas—possibly my mates. Not exactly people you disrespect if you enjoy breathing. But I wasn’t going to stand there like some trembling she-wolf while they threw accusations like confetti at a pack wedding. Mate bond or not, there was no future without trust. And I was the only one willing to say it
