“Are you going to tell him?”
He lets out a broken sigh. “No. You are.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m very much not. But you can begin by telling Kanata, so she can begin to determine how much damage you've already done. You’re quitting, Lana.”
“I can’t stop them. I’ll go into heat.”
“As you’re meant to. It’s a biological imperative.”
“Or what? You’re not my alpha!”
“Someonehas to be!”
I scoff. “Need I remind you what century we’re in? You don’t get to come back into my life and start bossing me around just because there’s not an alpha already doing that.”
“Well, somebody has to talk some sense into you! I’m not going to apologize for caring. Does anyone else even know? I won't sit around and watch you hurt yourself. Do you know the kind of side effects prolonged suppressant abuse can cause? I’mtalking permanent. Fucked up heat cycles for life, inability to get pregnant, inability to form bonds?—”
“I’m not concerned with any of that.” I can’t afford to be.I knew the dangers, but it’d always seemed worth it. Short-term gain in exchange for long-term risk.
Connor’s expression hardens. “You’re only twenty-one, Lana! You could be fucking up your whole future. You’re going to stop, or I’m going to tell Kanata, Mac, and your elusive alpha what you’ve been up to.”
My mouth hangs open. “You’re going to punish me for telling you the truth.”
“I would have figured it out sooner or later, Birdy. You’re hanging on by a thread.”
“I hate you.”
His eyes flare. “Good. Hating me means you’re still fucking alive. Now, where are you getting them?”
This is going downhill fast.
“I need to get to work. We can talk about this later.”
He leans over me, all delicious smelling and wet from the rain, and pulls my keys out of the ignition.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
I sputter. “Connor, please! You’re overreacting.”
“I believe this to be a very mild reaction, considering. Your alternative is giving me your alpha’s name. I’ll take it up with him and the mating registry.”
I start to laugh. I sound completely unhinged, but the entire situation is ridiculous. A farce fit for Shakespeare.
“I’m not going through another heat. I can’t.”
His pupils blow wide as his scent spikes again. He reaches for my hand.
“Did he hurt you, Lana?”
I shake my head. “No. Not physically.”
His voice is dangerously low now. “Was it bad? A weak bond? It was your first time, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
Sad as it is, I’m still a fucking virgin. Believe me, I’d tried, but once you find your mate, you kind of lose interest in anyone else.
