I could get over it.
True to his word, Dash walked us to the front door, but no farther. He should be seen with us as little as possible. It would be a miracle if Leighton’s mother didn’t already know the Loranger pack were still around us, but we wanted to be discreet nonetheless.
Before either of us had crossed the threshold, he stopped. His chin brushed the top of my head—a scent mark. I would be drenched in spring rain and peaches while we met with the Ashby pack, making it very clear I had someone else I belonged to.
Or, more accurately, someone who belonged to me.
Popping up onto my toes, I pressed my lips to each of the marks I’d left.
His long, low moan had Ambrose poking his head out of the bedroom and rolling his eyes. He and Mercury had said their goodbyes to us already. Awkward goodbyes, because we’d all heard Mercury getting railed, but apparently we weren’t talking about it.
“Make sure you don’t bond with anyone else.” Dash meant it to be teasing. Instead, it was desperate.
I grinned. “I might stab them, but there won’t be any claiming.”
Relief flitted through his green eyes, and then Leighton was there. I leaned back against her warmth and she held me. Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side, exposing the curve of her neck.
Dash watched her pulse, swallowing.
“Do it, if you’d like,” she said.
He was on her in a second. Dash’s hands were careful to stay on her waist, avoiding any area that could be considered sensitive. That fresh, fruity scent grew in intensity as he rubbed it against Leighton’s neck too.
When he stepped back he was holding both hands in fists at his side. “Give them hell, ladies,” he murmured.
“I don’t think Kiara has any other setting,” Leighton said.
Before I could make my indignation known, the condo door was shutting behind us and we were making our way to the elevator.
We were walking straight into danger, and the fear making my pulse pound was too intense to ignore.
* * *
The chauffeur left us at the entrance to the club, no doubt reporting back to Leighton’s mother. We hadn’t spoken to each other in the car. There was too much risk of our conversation being overheard, and any of our words could be twisted against us.
Even here, I was scared of prying eyes and whispers. My skin crawled as we walked up to the hostess stand. Leighton gave the Ashby name—their pack lead was called Cordian. There were two other members. A simple, small, three alpha pack.
When the hostess began to lead me inside, I froze before we could cross the threshold.
We were already later than Edith wanted. The hands on the Roman numeral clock above the entrance were showing ten to seven.
But I couldn’t move.
“I’ve been here before.” Leighton’s commanding tone stopped the hostess in her tracks. “We’ll find the table ourselves. Thank you.”
The hostess looked about to complain, but something about my bonded mate stopped her. Leighton’s aura hung in the air, denying all refusals of her will.
We went inside on our own and the hostess didn’t comment.
I didn’t register anything about the dimly lit lounge before I was pulled into a dark hallway right beside the entrance.
Vanilla cream filled my space and I sucked in a deep breath, realizing that my breathing had been shallow and quick. Her hands stroked my cheeks, forcing me to look up at her.
“You’re scared,” she said softly.
“No.” The word wobbled, betraying how false it was.
“You’re allowed to be scared, dove. I know your father didn’t treat you well, and you don’t want to go back. We’re going to fix it, whether you trust me to or not.”
