Page 101 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

“I lied to you—all of you.”

The words scrape out of me, raw and jagged.

“I came here under false pretenses. The Gulf Pack sent me to find Peaches.”

A ripple of murmurs sweeps through the room. I feel the shift, the anger barely held in check. I feel the weight of Peaches’ stare, of Magnolia’s silence. But I don’t stop.

I can’t stop.

Because the truth is the last thing I have left to give.

“I took the job without asking questions. Didn’t care why they wanted her back, didn’t care who they were. I needed the work, and I did what I was told.” My hands clench at my sides, the weight of my own confession pressing against my ribs. “Until I got here.”

I force myself to look at them—at Peaches, standing beside Magnolia, her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers still laced with my mate’s. At Reyes, watching me with quiet patience. At the pack I’ve wronged, at every pair of eyes filled with rage, betrayal, and worse…

Disappointment.

I swallow hard. “The second I stepped foot in this den, I knew I was wrong.” My throat works around the words, but I force them out. “I wasn’t looking for an omega. I was hunting someone who’d already been hunted enough.”

Peaches goes rigid, a single tear slipping down her cheek. Magnolia’s grip on her tightens.

The shame in my chest twists deeper.

“I made my choice the day I abandoned that mission,” I say, voice rough. “I made my choice when I destroyed my signal beacon. When I put myself between this den and the pack that wanted to hurt it.” My chest tightens, breath locking in my throat. “I made my choice the second I met her.”

I don’t think I’ve ever said anything more honest in my goddamn life.

“The second I met Magnolia, everything changed.”

My voice wavers, but I don’t stop. I owe her this. I owe them all this.

“It wasn’t just that she was my mate, though I knew it the moment I saw her,” I start, my eyes locked onto hers. “It was her. All of her. Magnolia is the kindest, most decent, most good-hearted person I have ever met, and I didn’t deserve her for a second—but I wanted her. I wanted her like I’ve never wanted anything in my entire goddamn life.”

My voice cracks, and I don’t care.

I should. I should care that I’m standing here, breaking in front of these people, but all I care about is the woman across the room with her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold the whole damn world together.

“I never planned to stay,” I go on, my voice dropping lower. The confession burns my throat, but I keep going. “I’ve been running my whole damn life. Running from place to place, running from who I was, running from what I’ve done. And then you—” My breath shudders out. “Then you happened, Magnolia.”

I shake my head, a broken laugh escaping me. “You walked into my life, and it was like everything before you was in black and white, and suddenly, I could see in color.”

A hush falls over the room.

I don’t know if it’s because they’re listening or because no one knows what the fuck to do with a man this stripped bare.

But I only care about one person in this room.

“You’re the kind of person who makes a man want to be better,” I say, voice rough. “And I tried. I tried. I sent a message to the Gulf Pack, told them to stay the hell away from this den—because you made this place a home for me.” I exhale, my hands fisting at my sides. “And I know I don’t deserve to stay. I know I don’t deserve you.”

My breath comes sharp, chest heaving.

“But whether I stay or not, Magnolia, you have my word—I will spend every breath I have making sure you are safe. Making sure this den stays the sanctuary it is.” My hands clench tighter. “Because it’s yours. It was always yours. I’m just…the guy who was lucky enough for you to invite him in, even if only for a second.”

I barely hear the whispers that ripple through the room, barely feel the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes on me.

Because I’m only watching Magnolia.

She hasn’t moved, hasn’t breathed, hasn’t blinked.

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