Page 33 of Alpha Fate

“Gage.” Sierra’s lips quirk slightly. “I saw how you looked at him.”

“No. I…I…” My cheeks are flaming. It’s true. Everything about him drew me from the first moment. Was it the chip that did that? “I didn’t want anyone,” I say more firmly. “And they didn’t want me either.”

“You’re sure?” Sierra’s dark brows pull together.

“The big one came down a lot in the beginning. Rack, they called him, and—” I stop when I see her expression. She looks like someone just held a gun to her head. “Did he hurt you?”

“He tried.” Sierra’s voice is husky. “But I got away. That’s when Jagger found me, brought me here. And then, later, I thought I’d killed the bastard. But it seems I was wrong.” Her fists are clenched, knuckles white.

“I’m sorry.” I put my hand over hers, ignoring the dirt on mine. I doubt she cares about it. “The wolves there said he’d come back. In bad shape, from the sounds of it. At least you can hold on to that. You hurt him properly.”

“Not much consolation when he’s still out there, preying on people like us.” There’s so much suppressed rage in the words. She turns her head and locks eyes with me. “We’re going to get him, Savannah. He’s going to pay.”

I nod as I look at her. “Right now, I’m just happy to be out of that hellhole.”

“Of course you are! And everything will be okay soon. We’ll keep you here at home for a few days so that you don’t have too much trouble with the males. Once things have settled, I’ll introduce you to the others. They’re good people here, Savvie.”

“Trouble with the males…” It still doesn’t make sense. “Sierra… I’m pretty sure I wasn’t in heat. Still not even close.”

“What?” She looks at me strangely.

“Rack would sniff me when he came down.” My stomach churns at the memory. “Later, when he was gone, some of the others did too.” I straighten my shoulders to steady myself. It doesn’t stop my voice from cracking when I continue. “They said I was…broken.”

“Oh, my God.” My sister is staring at me. “Maybe it was broken. The chip, I mean. Not you. There’s nothing wrong with you, Savannah.” She presses against me. “Do you hear me? Whatever they said to you down there were lies. Absolute bullshit. You’re perfect. Amazing. Flawless. You hang onto that, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod. Maybe if I say the words like a mantra each day, it’ll wash away the filth those animals left in my soul. Something else occurs to me. “Maybe it messed with me too, Sierra. If whatever they put in us stopped you from being able to have pups, maybe it did something to me as well.”

I draw in a breath, staring down at my hands again. Next to her clean, creamy skin, they look worse than ever.

“We’re not going to think that way, Savvie.” Sierra nudges me. I can sense her purposely lightening her mood. “You got out lucky. Well, lucky enough to be alive and unharmed…mainly.”

“You’re right.” I need to pull myself together. There’s a lot to be grateful for.

“Of course, you could still do with a good scrub.” She winks at me and gets to her feet. “You kinda stink.” She reaches for my hand. “Let’s get you washed up. By the time you’re out of the shower and in a fresh set of clothes, dinner will be here.”

I follow her obediently, trying not to feel shattered by the way my life has been turned upside down. But even as I trail behind her, I can’t help looking back over my shoulder at the door. Wondering about the man who brought me here.

Chapter 12

Gage

I’m pacing in small circles. I really need to stop it. There’s nothing to worry about. Yet I feel like a pimply pup as I finally get myself to stand still outside Jagger and Sierra’s door. The plain varnished wood shouldn’t be so intimidating.

Just knock, for fuck’s sake!

I raise my hand, about to rap on the wood, then pause yet again.

“It’s not gonna open on its own.” Jagger’s voice behind me has me leaping right off the floor.

“Jesus, Law! You shouldn’t sneak up on people with PTSD like that.” I drop my hand, feeling like a fool.

“PTSD? When the fuck did you get that?” He shoves past me, unlocks the door, and pushes it open.

“I…” I start, realizing I don’t actually have an answer. Nor do I have PTSD. “I got it from dealing with dickheads like you.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Heller.” He turns to face me. “You wanna come in, or shall I close it and leave you out here to tapdance around some more?”

“I wasn’t tapdancing,” I grumble as I shuffle in behind him. The room is warm, the fragrance of flowers and females hanging in the air.

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