Page 68 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“Fine—if,” I say. “The bottom line is that she’s staying. If you want to challenge me on it, you can, but I’ve already spoken with a few other alphas and you know they’re on my side.”

“So I don’t have a choice in the matter,” she says.

“You have the choice to stay and come to terms with it, or to leave the den,” I growl.

I pause, startled by my own words. I’ve never issued an ultimatum like this before—never drawn a line in the sand when it came to the den’s leadership. I’ve always worked to maintain harmony, to guide without force. But now? Now I have something, someone, to protect. Tilda is my family. My mate. And if I don’t stand firm, no one else will.

“There’s just one problem with that,” Frankie says with a cruel smile. “Her people know she’s alive, and they’re going to want her back.”

I stop myself from lunging for her, from taking her neck in my hand and gripping it tight. “You told them?”

“No,” she says. “I didn’t have to. They’ve been out surveying the den—caught sight of a man and young woman watching from their horses last night. I think it’s her sister.”

Enid…I should have known this would be a problem. If Tilda is so strong-willed, her sister can’t be much better.

“Shit,” I say. “Just the two of them?”

“For now,” Frankie says. “I followed them back to their little town, though, under the Curtain. There’s at least two hundred of them there, and they have guns…lots of them. Now that they have an inside man, they could probably tell how few wolves we have. And with only twenty or so alphas…”

“They’ll fight for her?”

Frankie grimaces. “All we have is each other,” she says, her British accent rough. “Wouldn’t you fight for someone stolen by the other side?”

Her words sting, but she’s not wrong. If the roles were reversed, I’d do the same thing. But this isn’t just about Tilda anymore. It’s about the den, about survival. And now that Tilda and I have bitten each other, there’s no undoing the bond. I can’t send her back. She belongs here now.

“We should go talk to them,” I say. “See if we can make peace. I’ve set up a connection in the city who can get us a steady supply of medicine, and I know they need?—”

“You’re a fool, Reyes,” Frankie interrupts. “These people are not our friends. They’re Crusaders.”

“They’re just trying to survive, like the rest of us.”

“They fly the Heavenly Host’s flag over their settlement,” she says. “If you think talking to them is a good idea…well, I might not have to supplant you after all. If you go there, you’ll die.”

I cross my arms over my chest, lifting my chin. “They’re in our territory,” I say. “The Host has abandoned them. If they’re clinging to scraps of power, it’s because they don’t have anything else. We can offer them something better.”

Frankie steps closer, her gaze steely and unyielding. “You can try,” she says, her voice low. “But when they kill you, Reyes, I’ll be taking over. And don’t expect me to clean up the mess you leave behind.”

I don’t flinch. “If they were capable of tuly challenging us, they would’ve attacked already–but Tilda was the only one willing to take action, and she’s here now, with us,” I say, my voice firm. “We’ll extend the olive branch first. If they reject it…then we’ll deal with the consequences.”

Frankie narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t push further. Instead, she gives me a curt nod. “It’s your call, Prime,” she says. “But don’t expect me to bury you with honors.”

She turns on her heel and stalks away, leaving me standing in the common area, the weight of her warning hanging heavy in the air. I glance toward the corridor leading to my room—where Tilda is waiting, where the scent of her lingers like a promise.

I have to make this work. For her. For the den. For all of us.

23

TILDA

It feels different to walk the corridors of the den as I leave the bathing spring that morning. People nod to me as I pass, their glances lingering just a little longer. Some are warm, some neutral, and a few—like Frankie’s—still hold suspicion. But no one challenges me.

I’m Reyes’ mate now.

For the first time since arriving here, I don’t feel like an intruder or a prisoner. I don’t flinch at shadows or balk at walking the halls alone. There’s a strange comfort in knowing that I belong here now—at least to him.

Reyes isn’t at breakfast–still talking with the other alphas, I think–when I head to the community center to grab a bite. The room is quieter than usual for this hour, the echoes of last night’s wedding celebration still lingering in the air. Hungover pack member’s stagger out of the den in twos and threes, rubbing their eyes and muttering greetings.

Peaches joins me a second later, sliding into the seat across from mine with a mug of tea in hand. “Well, if it isn’t the Prime’s mate,” she teases, a grin tugging at her lips. “You’re practically glowing.”

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