Page 30 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Got it,” I say. “I’ll talk to Frankie.”

She doesn’t bother with a thank you. Just flips her braid again, spins on her heel, and heads back to Peaches. They settle at a table by themselves, and it’s clear the rest of the pack is keeping their distance. I wonder if I should tell them to treat her kindly…but honestly, my patience is shot.

I sigh, knowing I can’t let this slide. I need to address it. Now.

Standing up, I step onto my chair, towering so close to the ceiling that my head nearly brushes a beam. The room goes quiet almost instantly, everyone’s attention snapping to me. As Alpha Prime, they feel my energy before I even speak.

“I wanted to introduce you all to our guest,” I say, my voice carrying over the murmur of conversation. “Tilda.”

Everyone turns to look at her now, and her face turns crimson as she hunches over the table, staring hard at the wood grain. It’s a surprising reaction from someone as fiery as her–and it suddenly occurs to me that she’s shy, that this is a kind of stage fright. I figured her for tough all around, but this…damn, it’s humanizing her.

Making me like her.

“She’s here to help us set up a farm,” I continue. “We’ve been talking about self-sufficiency for a while, and this is our chance to make that happen. I know she came here under…unusual circumstances, but I expect you to treat her as you would anyone in this pack. And if you want to help her, go talk to her.”

She shakes her head slightly, almost imperceptibly, and I realize I’ve miscalculated. “Or you can talk to me,” I amend quickly. “I’ll connect you.”

Stepping down, I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself. She’s tough, but that doesn’t mean she wants to be thrown into the deep end.

Only a couple of pack members approach her—Suyin, presumably to check in about her wound; our resident preschool teacher, Magnolia, giving Peaches a hug then smiling at Tilda—but the rest swarm me instead. Questions fly from every direction.

How am I going to keep them safe from the crusader? Am I really planning to let her stay here?

And, of course, the whispers:She bears his scent.

I was naive to think I could keep this under wraps. The more people figure it out, the harder it’ll be to contain the fallout.

But no matter what, I can’t tell Tilda the truth about the bond. Not because I’m scared of her anger—she’s already furious—but because admitting it would make it impossible to keep my wolf under control.

Three weeks. That’s all I need to get through.

Then she can have her medicine, and I’ll have my farm. And with any luck, Tilda Bingham will walk out of my life for good.

10

TILDA

The Austin Pack may have its flaws, but laziness isn’t one of them. I’m woken early the next morning by someone pounding on the door, their fist hitting with enough force to rattle the walls. Groaning, I crack my eyes open to find the room still cloaked in darkness, save for a beam of golden light spilling in from under the door.

I miss the open sky. Yesterday wasn’t enough.

“Hold on!” Peaches grumbles from the direction of her bed. I listen as she fumbles her way to the door, her footsteps heavy with exhaustion. The door swings open, flooding the room with light, and Peaches is silhouetted in the frame. “What time is it?”

“Six-thirty,” comes a voice from outside, definitely a woman’s. “Sun’s up, time to get a move on.”

“I didn’t volunteer for this part,” Peaches mutters, rubbing her eyes. “Let me just get Tilda?—”

“Oh no, you don’t,” the other voice cuts her off.

I toss the blanket aside and stretch, my neck popping as I try to work out the kinks from sleeping on Peaches’ sofa. It’s not terrible, but I’ll need to find something more permanent soon. My body’s got too many old wounds to tolerate subpar sleeping arrangements—especially after a gunshot wound that should’ve killed me.

Weirdly, though, I’m not as sore as usual.

I tell myself it’s not Reyes’ bite, but deep down, I know better.

Peaches groans and starts tugging on her pants under her loose sleep shirt, her hair a tangled mess as she ties it back. Meanwhile, the visitor steps into the room: a petite girl with dirty blonde waves falling around her shoulders.

“Elijah and I made a run to the city yesterday to get more seeds after we heard from Mateo,” she says, holding up a small sack. “I want to get started on this ASAP.”

---