Page 29 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Then why does she smell like you fucked her?” Grant says, way too loud for my liking.

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss. “And stop saying that. Look, I’ll explain, but you’re not to repeat this to anyone.”

“So now you’re keeping secrets from the pack?” Will’s tone is sharp, his eyes narrowing further.

I groan, pulling at my beard so hard I’m surprised it’s still attached. “Can’t catch a damn break. She was dying. She was bleeding out, and I bit her.”

Grant leans forward, incredulous. “You say that like it’s no big deal, man. Like it’s just a casual, ‘Oh, I had to grab a coffee and also bite a crusader.’ It’snot.”

Will shakes his head, his tone shifting to something more serious. “You realize what you’ve done, right? She’s yours now. Permanently. There’s no walking that back, Reyes. And on top of that, you’ve brought a crusader into the den. You’ve tied us to her. What were you even thinking?”

“She was bleeding out,” I repeat, my voice tight. “There was no time to think, no time to calculate. And trust me, I’ve regretted it every second since. Now I’ve got to figure out what to do with her while she’s here, what to do when she asks to go back home, and how the hell we’re going to get her the insulin she needs.”

“Wait—insulin?” Grant’s eyebrows shoot up.

“For her diabetic sister,” I say, trying to stay calm. “The Heavenly Host is apparently withholding meds as we expand our territory. She offered to help us with the farm in exchange for the insulin.”

Grant snorts. “So let me get this straight: you save her life, and she immediately starts making demands?”

I’m trying to figure out how to defend myself when Will’s gaze flicks over my shoulder. “Heads up. She’s coming over.”

Her scent hits me again, and I turn slowly, bracing myself as Tilda makes her way toward us.

“Tilda,” I say.

“Garza,” she shoots back, her voice clipped.

“Need something?”

She tilts her chin up, all attitude. “Yeah. You don’t need to have me tailed everywhere,” she says. “Pretty sure the blonde is making Peaches uncomfortable.”

She jerks her head toward the back of the room, where Frankie is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and scowling.

“I didn’t tell Frankie to do anything,” I say, shrugging. “Maybe talk to her. You two might have something in common. You’re both…”

I trail off, realizing I’ve walked straight into a verbal minefield.

“We’re both what?”

Grant snorts behind me, but the sound dies in his throat when Tilda’s gaze snaps to him. She doesn’t say anything, justlooksat him, and suddenly, he’s all quiet.

Intimidation must be her superpower.

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind going toe to toe with her. She’s stubborn as hell.

Just like me.

“Something funny?” she asks, flicking her braid over her shoulder like a whip.

“Uh, no,” Grant stammers. “I mean, uh…”

While she’s focused on him, I let my eyes roam over her—and that’s when I notice it. A scar, ugly and red, twisting down her thigh. She wasn’t wearing shorts last night, so I didn’t see it before, but now it’s impossible to miss.

She catches me looking and pales.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her self-conscious.

“Anyway,” she says sharply, dragging my attention back to her face. “I just wanted to ask you to call off your hounds. I’m not going anywhere—not until you hold up your end of the deal.”

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