Page 22 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

This is his room?” Tilda demands, her voice dripping with venom.

“Yes,” I call, my tone measured. “Come in.”

A second later, the door flies open, and there she is–dripping wet, still in her dirty clothes, and not even a little bit blindfolded. Peaches stands behind her, caught between an apology and a plea for help. Peaches also looks winded–clearly having struggled to keep up with the much taller Tilda.

Tilda tilts her head toward Peaches. “Get out,” she snaps, her voice low and dangerous.

Peaches doesn’t need to be told twice. She slips out, closing the door with a soft click, leaving the two of us alone.

Then it's just the two of us…and I'm trapped with a very angry woman.

“What. The. Fuck,” she says, each word sharper than the last.

I hold up my hands in surrender. “We need to talk,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “I should have told you.”

“Damn right you should’ve told me!” she snaps, pacing across the room like she’s looking for something to break. “What the—? I should kill you right now.”

“Didn’t work out so well for you last time,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

“Shut the fuck up,” she snaps, spinning to face me. Her eyes are blazing, red-rimmed and wet with unshed tears. She takes a step closer, her movements stiff, like her body’s still protesting the injury. The flash of pain in her expression makes my chest tighten, but she’s too angry to care about my concern.

“You can feel me, can’t you?” she demands, her voice trembling with fury.

I shut my eyes and exhale slowly, trying to steady myself. “It’s…complicated.”

“Yeah? Well, now’s the time to uncomplicate it,” she says, throwing her arms wide. “You marked me like I’m a fucking cow?—”

“No,” I interrupt, my voice firm. “It’s not like that. It’s not like that at all.”

“Oh, really?” she spits, yanking up her shirt to reveal the bite. The sight of it, healing beautifully, sends an involuntary wave of satisfaction through me, but I shove it down. She’s staring at me, her green eyes daring me to look away. “Because it sure as hell feels like a brand.”

“I didn’t have any other choice,” I say, my voice tight with frustration. “I was watching you bleed out, and I couldn’t stop it. Our medic wasn’t fast enough. I didn’t…” I pause, struggling to find the words that could make this better. “I did what I had to do.”

“You should have let me die,” she hisses, her voice shaking with anger.

I blanche, narrowing my eyes as I step closer. “You’re only able to say that because you’re still here.”

“I would rather be dead than controlled.”

Her words sting. I feel the growl rising in my chest, but I bite it back. Instead, I let out a slow breath and aim for her heart.

“And what would your sister want?”

It’s a low blow, and I know it. The regret hits me the moment the words leave my mouth, but it’s too late. Tilda flinches like I’ve physically struck her, and steps back. Her fury flickers, giving way to something more raw.

And then, to my horror, she starts to cry.

The sight of her tears guts me. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who cries, not the kind who lets herself break in front of anyone. And now?

Now I’m the asshole who pushed her there.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. The apology feels clumsy, too little too late. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was selfish of me.”

I reach for her instinctively, wanting to comfort her, but she brushes me off with a sharp slap to my hand. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she snaps, her voice trembling with rage. “I get it now—why I’ve felt so safe here. It’s this wolf stuff you keep talking about, lulling me into a false sense of security.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “That’s part of it, yes,” I admit. There’s no point in lying now. “But you have no reason to feel unsafe here. No one will hurt you as long as you’re under my protection.”

She lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. “That does not make me feel as comfortable as you seem to think it does.”

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