Page 80 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I cut her off. The anger twists inside me, my wolf’s growl a constant, seething undercurrent. “The Council’s moving in, Trouble. We got word right after you ran off. There’s a task force, and they could already be here, looking for us.”

Her eyes widen, her face going pale. “What?” she breathes, her gaze darting to Colt, searching for confirmation.

But Colt’s staring at me, confused as hell.

I turn back to her. “Which you would know if you kept your fucking phone on like an adult.” My voice is sharp, a whipcrack of frustration. I step closer, my fists clenching at my sides. “While you were off ‘needing space,’ we got word they’re on the move. Instead of making a plan to deal with it, I had to haul ass out here to pick up my clueless mate, who doesn’t have the decency—or the respect—to keep her phone on!”

She flinches, her shoulders tightening, guilt etched across her face. “I—I didn’t know,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “I just needed a break, Tomas. I left you a note.”

Her voice breaks again, softer this time. “I didn’t know.”

My wolf surges, demanding more—punishment, control, dragging her back where she belongs. Maybe bending her over my knee until she understands. My control frays at the edges, teeth grinding as a low growl rumbles from my chest.

“You didn’t know because you can’t know everything,” I snap, my breath sharp. “You can’t keep doing this.” I pace the porch, raking a hand through my hair, trying to bleed off the fury. “You put yourself at risk. You put all of us at risk. You’re not just you anymore. We’re a pack. When one of us steps out of line, we all pay the price.”

Colt rises with a lazy grace that doesn’t match the tension in his eyes. He plants himself between us, one arm outstretched, casual but firm.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” he says, his voice dangerously even. “Back off, Tomas. She’s here. She’s fine. Alright?”

My wolf howls, demanding I shove Colt aside, haul Sunday back, make her understand. My fists clench as I force my eyes shut, inhaling slowly.

“No, it’s not alright. It’s not fine,” I grit out. “She has no idea what could’ve happened.”

Colt’s mouth quirks into an infuriating grin. “Uh-huh. You’re havin’ some big feelings there, Tommy-boy.” He tips his beer back, draining it slowly. His eyes stay locked on mine, the challenge clear. “But you ain’t comin’ to my house and yellin’ at my sister. That’s a non-starter.”

He gestures lazily with the empty bottle. “So how you gonna act? ‘Cause this?” He lifts it again. “It ain’t impressin’ me.”

He stands there, that reckless glint in his eyes, like he’s daring me to swing. Braced for it. Maybe hoping for it. Like standing between me and Sunday is worth whatever bruises come next.

For a heartbeat, I lean forward, instinct screaming to rip the weapon from his hand,because that’s what it is, drop him to the floor, end this standoff. But I stop. Barely.

I don’t have a problem with Colt. I’m not here to hurt anyone.

Least of all, her.

It isn’t just anger—it’s fear. A raw, choking fear that has my heart pounding, that makes me want to hold her so tight she’ll never slip away again. And fear makes us do stupid things.

I unclench my fists, feeling the ache in my knuckles, and take a deliberate step back. Space. I need space before I do something we’ll all regret.

The air shifts immediately. Colt lets out a small breath, the tension easing from his shoulders. Our eyes meet, and I nod. He holds my gaze a beat longer, then, almost grudgingly, reaches out his hand.

I grip it firmly. He feels everything—every ounce of fury and fear still buzzing under my skin. Hell, he probably sensed it the moment I stepped out of the truck, maybe even before that.

His lips twitch, that infuriating smile sliding back into place. He gives my hand a quick shake and releases it. “Try not to come in so hot next time, alright?” he says, voice low, the edge softened into something closer to teasing.

I huff a breath, a half-laugh, half-grunt. “I’ll do my best, Prescott. No promises.”

I realize Colt stepping in wasn’t just about protecting Sunday—it was about protecting me from myself. He felt my wolf raging, felt me teetering on the edge of control. I scared my mate. And I sure as hell made her brother think I’m an abusive piece of shit… by acting like one.

“Thanks,” I murmur, my voice nearly lost in the wind stirring across the porch. It’s not an apology, but it’s all I can offer right now.

“Anytime, man.”

I exhale, the weight in my chest loosening just a little. Sunday’s eyes meet mine, cautious but open. I step toward her, and she meets me halfway. My hands run up and down her arms, grounding both of us.

“I’m sorry for… the way I handled things,” I say, my voice rough but soft. “I went full Alpha, and that’s not what you needed. I just… I need you to be safe, Trouble. That’s all it is.”

Her lips twitch, the corners tugging into a wry smile. “And I’m sorry I worried you. I have, umm, a small—” She holds her fingers about an inch apart. “Very small tendency toward self-sabotage.”

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