Page 180 of The Beta's Blind Date

“You can, though! You pushed me out of Dominic even though I’d had hold of him for years. Your powers are enough to heal me.”

I sigh and shake my head at her. “I didn’t push you out on my own. I had help. Help from two witches, the same witches who helped me track the spell to you, and who provided the truth potion to compel you to spill all your secrets to us.”

Her face pales and she looks around the table, then down at the teacup in front of her. She lifts her eyes, fire burning behind them, and she tries to stand, but she can’t, held in place by Haven’s earlier command. Her nostrils flare and she fights against it, but it’s no use.

“It doesn’t matter!” she declares, glaring at Haven and me, and the rest of us. “It will be your word against mine when this potion wears off. And I’ll be long gone by the time—”

“Oh, you sweet thing,” Haven says, patting her hand again. “I almost feel sorry for you. Almost. But choosing darkness solves nothing. You had other options, other paths you could have taken.” Haven sighs and glances towards the doors to the kitchen. “And did you really think we’d ask you all of this, get this entire confession from you without some sort of plan in place?”

Merina follows her eyes to the double doors, and she fights harder against Haven’s hold on her King Malachi stalks towards her, flanked by Alpha Wesley and my mate, all three of them releasing the full strength of their alpha and beta auras on her. Her shoulders slump and her hands cover her face, her body collapsing over the table, submitting to their combined power. My wolf pushes forward, intrigued and drawn to our mate and his strength, to the aura he so rarely uses.

“Merina Rivers,” King Malachi says, his voice filling the entire room and drawing the attention of everyone in attendance. “You are under arrest for the murders of Julian Rivers and Terrence and Lauryn Campbell, for collaborating with rogue werewolves, and for the use of unmonitored and illegal witchcraft against both your son and your pack.”

He and Wesley grab her by the arms as a murmur of surprise ripples through the gathered females. They slap silver cuffs on her wrists and drape a magic stifling amulet over her neck, yanking her from her seat to take her to the Crescent Lake cells.

Chapter 61

REID

Assoonaswesecure Merina to the chair in the cell, I turn around and leave, heading back the way we came in. King Malachi is questioning Merina, getting more details from her about her confession. Even with my distaste for torture, I’d love to watch her squirm, love to watch him get every piece of information out of her by whatever means necessary. She deserves it for everything she did.

But the ache in my soul pulls me out of the room and back towards the packhouse, back towards my distressed mate. Her pain is mine, growing stronger by the second, clawing up my insides, impossible to ignore.

I shove the door to the building open, and Taryn flings herself at me, her high heels in her hand. She buries her face in my shoulder as she clings to my neck and her tears soak my T-shirt, silent sobs wracking her body. My arms wrap around her on instinct and I take her back inside, out of the cold and away from prying eyes.

“I’m here,” I say, my lips against her ear and my hand cupping the back of her head. “I’ve got you.” She nods, her eyes clenched shut, her body trembling in my arms, shaken and exhausted from pushing her emotions aside while questioning Merina. “You were so strong and so brave—the perfect beta female. But you can break now. You can let me be strong for both of us.”

She presses her face harder into my chest to muffle her cries, and her heels clatter to the floor as she grips into my shirt. I glance around and pop us into an unoccupied observation room, sending a quick mindlink to Wesley to let him know where we are in case he needs us.

My arms stay around Taryn as I relax against the wall, holding her as she lets everything out with her tears and sobs. There is no rush, nowhere for us to be, so I give her all the time she needs. The pain pours out of her, bubbling from deep inside. I stroke her back and press soft, sweet kisses to the top of her head, her shoulders, and her neck, supporting and loving her through her anguish.

She sniffles and looks up at me, eyes swollen and cheeks tear-stained, her every emotion painted across her face in shades of grief. “If I hadn’t stayed home—if I’d been with them—”

“Then you may have died with them,” I say, lowering my forehead to hers.

“But if I hadn’t—”

“You don’t know if your gift would have appeared then, either, Taryn.” I cup her face in my hands and kiss her forehead. “I know it’s easier said than done—you know I know that better than almost anyone—but you can’t dwell on the what-ifs. It will only make you more miserable, only cause you more pain.”

Her lips pinch together and she nods. My thumbs swipe at the tears under her eyes and I kiss each cheek, letting my lips linger against the softness of her skin.

“It hurts,” she says, her throat working overtime as she swallows against the emotions. “I miss them so much.”

“I know,” I say, holding her to me as she breaks into sobs again, my throat tightening as well. I close my eyes, picturing the blue eyes and the warm smile that I miss almost every day, the woman who took a tiny piece of me with her when she left us behind. “I know,” I repeat, resting my cheek against the top of her head and holding her close again, letting my own tears fall as I sway side to side, soothing both of us.

I sink to the floor, my back against the wall and Taryn sideways in my lap, cradled in my arms. We hold each other, letting our emotions ebb and flow like the tides of the ocean. But even with our sadness, even with our broken hearts, there is lingering peace, a promise of love, a promise of a bright future.

A future together, as a family. With our Sour Patch.

The door creaks and we both open our eyes, Taryn scrambling to get to her feet as King Malachi enters the room.

“Please,” he says, shaking his head and holding his hands up. “There is no need for formality. Not right now.”

Taryn relaxes and remains in my lap, her fingers linking with mine. Malachi strolls further into the room, his hands in his pockets as he leans against the opposite wall.

“What did she say?” I ask.

“She regurgitated the same story under my alpha command that she gave Taryn and Luna Haven under the truth potion,” he says. “With some more details that gave better context.”

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