“Step out, so I can see who I’m talking to,” I commanded.
Hesitantly, cautiously, she eased forward, appearing like a frightened mouse. I noticed her eyes first, mostly due to the black swelling around one of them. Still, the light blue of her irises shone bright. She had one arm wrapped around her middle. The other flat along her side, fist tightly clenched. Someone had hurt her. That was easy to see and filled me with a different type of rage.
“Who did this to you?” I only realized I’d taken a few steps toward her when she pulled back, seeming to shrink into herself. I held out my hands, palms up. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Cyan Richards. I’m with the James Pack.”
“I know who you are.”
“Then you have me at a disadvantage.” I tried to keep her engaged with me as I heard Simon return. I was happy to see he had Taylor, another pack mate with him. I was Bas’ right hand, and Taylor was mine. He was a massive motherfucker, scarier even than me, but he was a good man and an excellent shifter. When shit got real, he was who you wanted to watch your back. He also had a heart of gold. Many of the pack referred to him as the gentle giant, a name he hated but was very accurate.
“Cy, you good?” Taylor’s voice, sounding like a rusted blade.
“We’re good.” I waved him off for now, staying focused on the woman. She knew something. I sensed it, and though I wanted nothing more than to find my reluctant bride-to-be, obligation as Bastion’s beta kept me where I was. Ensuring the safety of our pack was one of my main duties, and this woman was now part of our pack. “What’s your name?”
“Rebel, but most people call me Rebbie.”
I was close enough now that I could gingerly touch her chin and turn her face so I could better see what damage had been done. My anger burned anew. “Who did this to you?”
She shrugged, displacing my touch but standing her ground this time. “It doesn’t matter. I heard you… Is Ivy really your mate?”
I nodded. It was only a matter of time.
“Good.” She bobbed her head as if satisfying some unspoken question. “Ivy deserves something good in her life. She deserves…happiness. It’s been hell since Rowan died.”
“What do you mean?”
Rebbie sighed wearily. “Rowan watched out for us, and everyone knew it. Ivy more so than me. They were always together. Them and Jasmine.”
“Jasmine?”
“Ivy’s…sister.” A slight hesitation. Why?
“Rowan took them under his wing when their mother left shortly after Jasmine was born,” Rebbie continued.
“What about their father?” And why the hell would a mother leave her children?
Rebbie shrugged again. “Who knows. Some women aren’t built to be mothers. They’re unable to form attachments.”
“Ivy’s?”
A nod.
“Yours?”
Another nod.
“It’s not easy being the daughter of a pack whore.”
I saw red. “Your mothers were forced—”
Her laugh cut me off, hard and brittle. “There was no coercion. Rowan never would have let that go on. It’s hard to corral a bitch in heat, who likes to spread her thighs for anyone.”
Such contempt in the words. It made my heart ache. Made me wonder what type of life my mate had endured growing up.
“Ivy had Raina, though. And Rowan. Our alpha was always hanging out with her.”
Had there been something between Rowan and Ivy? Was that why my mate was so reluctant? I’d admit the idea didn’t sit well with me. It didn’t deter me, either. Ivy was mine.
“What about you?”