Page 101 of Rogue Games

Wyatt leans against the far wall, arms folded over his chest, an unhappy scowl plastered across his face.

“You’re dressed,” I say simply as I walk over and pick up the jacket laid out on the covers beside her. Folding it over my arm, I hold out a hand to her, which she takes hesitantly and slides to the floor. She tries to hide her wince of pain, but I catch it, and the tightness around her eyes as she smiles through gritted teeth.

“Wyatt, the competitors are starting to gather. You better get moving.”

Wyatt pushes off the wall, reluctant to leave, but itching to go and take his place.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your sister gets where she’s going.”

With a stiff nod, he leaves the room without a backward glance. We’ve spoken about my intentions. He knows I’m not going to do anything to endanger her recovery.

Then it’s just me and her.

“Shall we?” I sweep my hand toward the still open door, and tip my head, gesturing for her to go first.

She gives me another fake smile and walks gingerly into the hallway, determined to keep up the pretence that she’s fine despite the obvious pain she’s in.

“Do you need some help?” I ask, pushing down the urge to lift her into my arms and carry her rather than watching her charade of being totally fit and healthy.

“Nope. All good.” Chin lifted, I can see how tightly her jaw is clenched and how carefully she moves. I’d laugh at the ridiculousness of it if it didn’t make me want to scream.

Resisting the temptation to call her out on her bullshit, I follow her outside, admiring how the sunlight bouncing off her hair makes the dark strands glisten and shine.

“Alpha Steel wants to have a word.”

Jamie’s back goes rigid as I mention the head alpha, and she comes to a halt. Her pulse quickens, and her fingers twitch as she stares in the direction of the bridge. She’s nervous, not that this proud woman would ever admit it. Jamie thinks she’s in trouble. I can almost hear her brain trying to calculate how far she’d get if she just bolted.

“I’m feeling quite tired. Maybe I could come back to speak with him another time?” When she turns to look at me, suddenly willing to admit she’s not up to full strength, even my wolf shakes his head. This woman. I remain silent but school my features into as stern an expression as I can manage and hold her gaze.

“That would be a no then,” she grumbles.

Her shoulders slump, admitting defeat, and she turns to follow me toward the swelling crowds. A hush falls over the gathering as they spot us approaching. Jamie keeps her head high, but tension radiates from her as the sea of shifters part and let us through. When she spots Alpha Steel up on the raised platform, she groans, knowing I’m going to make her go up there.

Well, she is the one who wanted to pretend she was fine. And to leave.

I’m not going to let her do either of those things.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried. You’re amazing.” One of the girls who encouraged us to go dancing rushes forward, dipping her head, and my chest swells with pride at my pack member's display of respect.

Jamie blinks at her, overwhelmed and not sure what to say, but smiles and nods, looking at me with trepidation. She’s unsure what I think about my pack expressing their love for her, but through our faint bond, I can feel her joy at being cared about. That someone other than her brother was thinking of her.

As we reach the steps, I extend a hand to my mate. She takes it tentatively, and as the tingles shoot out from where we touch, our eyes lock, something passing between us that words cannot describe.

We’re one. I can feel her inside me already. I don’t know how I ever thought it could be any other way.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as we continue to stare at each other, caught in the thrall of our connection.

“Get a room,” someone shouts.

When I turn and look at him, eyebrow raised, he drops his eyes to the ground.

“Eh, get a room sir, I mean.”

The gathering shifters erupt in snickers and wolf whistles as I throw them an amused smirk, resting my hand on Jamie’s back, as I lead her up the stairs.

Jamie looks puzzled, obviously expecting a very different reaction from me. And from the pack gathered around us who smiles proudly at her, grateful for what she did for one of our own.

“Dean, what’s going on?” Jamie’s voice is quiet, and my heart clenches at the uncertainty in it. Is she so used to glares and sneers that she doesn’t know a warm welcome when she gets it?

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