I scoffed as I unraveled myself from his energetic presence, his dominating stance, and his protective hovering.Three years of separation had nearly made me forget how he treated mebeforehe disappeared.

His touch turned from firm to gentle, textured palms scrubbing my shoulders, upper arms, and forearms, massaging away the anxiety that tried to take me over. Cliff was here. Cliff was touching me. Cliff, the father of the little girl sleeping upstairs, had come back to see me, to protect me, to defend me.

I waved his hands away.From himself. He wants to avenge the wayhetreated me.

“I’m making tea. Do you want tea? Do you still want tea?” I wandered into the kitchen without waiting for his response. “I have tangy citrus, calming balms, sleepy, wakey, eggs and bakey…”

I rubbed my forehead.

“I mean, sorry.” I rustled through the cabinet, peering out the window to check the patio that separated the kitchen from the garage. The most atypical lawn set sat on the concrete with a striped red and white umbrella that reminded Sydney of a candy cane. She liked to say she was sitting underneath a lollipop whenever it was sunny enough to do it. “I usually talk to a three-year-old girl.”

“Eggs and bakey sounds pretty good. You know, the usual home-baked goods.” I looked at him in time to catch a wink. “Got any green?”

I chuckled as I grabbed a box ofstress relief. We were both about to need it. “That’s not my style anymore. I like keeping my head clear.”

“Do you still like to argue?”

“Who said anything about arguing?”

He huffed, took a seat at the round beige table, and kicked his boots up on the opposite chair.

I pursed my lips. “You sure know how to make yourself at home.”

“I’d like for you to do the same in mine.”

“As if.”

He smiled tightly. “I’m serious, Robyn. My Alphas announced us as mates.” He folded his hands together on his lap. “I’m tasked with taking you back to West Virginia with me.”

The box fell from my fingers. Whatever else I might have been holding fell too—and by the looks of how frantically Cliff shot up from the chair, I would venture to guess it was something dangerous like ceramic or glass or something. As he crunched around my immobile body to grab the broom and sweep up the mess, I digested the things he had just said to me.

Mates.

He called us mates.

I blinked down at him. He was busy gathering up the shattered pieces of blue clay from the mug I had dropped. I spotted a piece of a painted whale with a tutu. “Shit, that was her favorite.”

“I’ll get her a new one.”

“Don’t do that.”

He stood up and slid the mess into the trashcan. “Why not?”

“We’re not going with you.”

“Whynot?”

I shook my head as I grabbed the edge of the counter. “It’s not logical.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t need a mate?”

I cut my eyes away from him. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then, come back with me.” He pulled a rolled wad of papers from his back pocket. “And let me prove to you exactly why you should do it.”

Chapter 5 - Cliff

Hot tea sat untouched on the table while Robyn quietly reviewed the documents I had painstakingly dug out of the woodwork just for her. Her yellow eyes scanned line after line, squinted, pupils, shrinking to points like she was taking the time to criticize what I had prepared with serious consideration.