Page 66 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

REYES

Last night felt like a dream—one I didn’t want to wake from.

…but now comes the hard part: telling the rest of the pack.

I assume most of them already know what happened. Discretion? That went out the window the moment Tilda and I stopped pretending we could resist each other. We weren’t exactly quiet, and wolves have sharp ears. The whispers were probably circulating before the sun even rose.

Still, knowing isn’t the same as accepting. This is bigger than just us; it’s about their Prime taking a mate. I need their trust in this decision, and I need them to trust her.

Heading to the common area, I brace myself. It’s early, and most of the pack is still shaking off the night’s festivities, but Will is already at his usual table. His movements are deliberate, unhurried, as he cradles a small, cherished cup of coffee in his hands. A thermos sits beside him, and I can practically smell the rich aroma from across the room. Coffee is a rarity these days, a luxury we only manage to get through favors and trading.

He acts like he’s so tough and stoic–but he’s got a soft side to him, and a head for poetry. Will must’ve charmed it out of someone on his latest supply run.

He notices me lingering by the entrance and raises a hand in a subtle wave—his way of saying he’s open to conversation without demanding it. That’s Will: always leaving the door cracked just enough for someone to step through.

I cross the room, feeling the weight of the morning settle into my shoulders. This is the first step, I remind myself. One step, one conversation, one ally at a time.

“Morning,” Will says as I sit across from him. His tone is neutral, but his sharp gaze flicks over me like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “Coffee’s still hot, if you want some.”

“I might take you up on that,” I reply, offering a faint smile. “Looks like you’ve been up for a while.”

“Didn’t sleep much,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Celebrations are noisy. Plenty to think about.”

I nod, appreciating his straightforwardness. “Same here.”

Will raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into what might’ve been a smirk. “So…you and Tilda.”

Straight to the point. That’s Will for you. I let out a breath, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah. Me and Tilda.

He doesn’t say anything; a sense of shame floods me, and I screw my face up as I stare down at the table. “Feels like it was inevitable, doesn’t it?”

Will shrugs. “I still want to believe that we aren’t beholden to our inner monsters, but maybe I was wrong.”

“It wasn’t my wolf that decided,” I say. “It was all me. Full, human consent.”

I can tell he doesn’t believe me, and that hurts. Will is one of the only others here who’s chosen never to take a mate, and I know it’s partially because he doesn’t trust his wolf. I don’t know exactly what happened, but he lost someone thanks to his darkest impulses.

He fights the monster inside every day.

Finally, he looks up, his expression hard to read. “Out of everyone here,” he says quietly, “I always believed you would be the one to resist.”

His words land like a blow, sharp and unexpected. I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. I just watch as he leans back in his chair, running a hand through his graying hair.

“It makes me wonder,” he continues, his voice low and tinged with something bitter, “if this is all pointless. If we’re all just fooling ourselves. Maybe it doesn’t matter how hard we fight it. Maybe we’ll all be animals in the end, no matter what.”

“Will…” I start, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

“No, let me finish,” he says. “I’m not saying this to hurt you, Reyes. It’s just…when someone like you gives in, it shakes the foundation for the rest of us. You’ve always been the example. The one who stays steady. The one who doesn’t let the wolf win. And now…”

He trails off, his gaze dropping back to the table, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the wood grain.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I didn’tgive in,Will. This isn’t about the wolf winning or losing. It’s about…choice. Tilda is my mate, yes, but I chose her. Not because of instinct or biology or fate, but because Iwanther. Because I love her.”

Will opens his mouth to say something thoughtful, I’m sure, but before he can speak, a big hand slaps me on the back. I grunt as Grant slides into the seat beside me with what I can only describe as a cackle.

“My man,” Grant says. “Who knew the virgin had it in him?”

“Not a virgin,” I grumble.

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