Page 69 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Don’t start,” I say, though I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face.

She leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. “So, what’s the plan for today, First Lady of the Den? More wedding night antics, or are you going to grace the rest of us with your presence?”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “I’m heading to the garden. Gotta keep pulling weeds before the plants start to choke.”

“You’re so romantic,” she says, deadpan. “Don’t work too hard—Reyes might think I’m puttin’ you to use as free labor.”

I shake my head with a grin and finish the last few bites of my breakfast. Peaches chatters on about some drama involving Mateo and a busted wheelbarrow, her voice a bright counterpoint to the sleepy quiet of the morning. I let her words wash over me as I gather my things and head out, the lingering smell of coffee and fresh bread fading as I step into the corridor.

The garden is quiet when I arrive, and I find solace in the familiar rhythm of work. The sun is high and warm, the late summer heat lingering in the air. The plants are starting to grow—tiny green shoots breaking through the soil—but it’ll still be weeks before we see any real yield. I crouch down, fingers sinking into the earth as I pull weeds, the scent of dirt and wildflowers filling my nose.

I fall into a trance, my hands moving on autopilot as my thoughts wander. I grab the tiller and loosen the soil around the bases of the plants, letting my muscles carry the work while my mind turns over more complicated problems.

We need a better irrigation system. Dragging buckets of water from the well every day won’t cut it much longer, not as the garden grows. Maybe I could go back to Homestead to trade for some soaker hoses. I can almost picture the neat rows of black tubing snaking through the soil, the relief of knowing the plants are watered without hauling heavy buckets in the sun.

Homestead.

The word catches in my chest, frays at the edges of my mind. I left that place with every intention of killing Reyes. Now I’m in love with him.

What the hell am I supposed to say to the people back home?

I picture Enid’s face, soft and full of hope, and David’s sharp features twisting with anger. They probably think I’m dead. It’s been weeks—long enough for everything to change. But even if they still see me as one of them, how could they understand this? They wouldn’t.

They’ll call me a traitor. Worse.

I shove the tiller into the soil a little too hard, the force jolting up my arms.

If they have a problem with it, fuck ‘em.

I don’t owe them anything—not after what David did. And Enid? I’ll bring her here, away from all that. She deserves a life where she doesn’t have to worry about medicine running out or the Heavenly Host breathing down her neck.

The afternoon sun beats down as I grab the bucket and head to the well for water. Sweat drips down my temple, but it’s a small price to pay for the peace that working out here brings. My thoughts drift to Reyes—his hands, his voice, the way he looked at me under the stars. Beyond the bite, beyond the pack dynamics and the “wolfy stuff,” I think I’m falling in love with him.

No. I know I am.

It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and entirely unexpected. I’ve never been a romantic—I’ve always been practical, grounded. But Reyes? He’s different. He’s steady in a way I didn’t think anyone could be. And the way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m worth something more than just survival.

Maybe we can get a happy ending after all.

I’m elbow-deep in soil when I feel Reyes drawing closer, the smell of incense swallowing me up. I like this part of the bond—that I feel him before he’s even here, before I can hear his footsteps. A moment later, I hear the whisper of tall grass around his legs, and then I feel him kneeling next to me, his hand on my back.

I sit back on my heels, looking over at him with what I’m certain is a stupid smile. “Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” he smiles back. He’s putting on a good show, but I can feel the apprehension in him, the way his chest tightens.

“Something’s wrong,” I say. “What is it?”

“Well,” he says. “I heard back from the city this morning, and we can get your medical shipment—including insulin for Enid.”

My eyes widen. “That’s great news!”

“But that’s not all,” he says. “Apparently, your sister has been casing the den. Frankie saw her last night.”

I frown. “She’s not hurt, is she?”

“Enid? No,” Reyes shakes his head. “Frankie didn’t do anything to them. But she’s afraid they’re going to make another attack on the den now that they know you’re alive.”

I sigh, my eyes sliding shut. “Shit. If they’re still short medicine, they probably plan on trying another assassination attempt—and grabbing me in the process,” I say. “What do you want to do about it?”

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