Page 87 of Pack Kasen: Part 2

When the door snicks closed behind her and I can no longer hear her footsteps, I drive my fist into the nearest wall, wishing it were her ex’s face.

The door swings open.

Finan’s eyes move from me to the hole.

“Get out!” I snarl.

He retreats, shutting the door after him.

But it’s not Fin I’m vibrating with fury at.

It isn’t her ex who made her senior year hell, or even the guy who slept with her for a bet.

It’s me.

Because I hurt her even worse than they did.

She said she liked Doug. She’d defended her ex-boyfriend when I’d accused him of dumping her for a cheerleader. He’d treated her right and was the type to walk a girl home to make sure she got home safe. Someone tore out his throat and spilled his guts.

Does she wish I’d been the one who had died?

How the fuck can I compete with a guy who made her happy?

Is she thinking that I’m just like the guys who stabbed her in the back when I tossed her into a silver cage and left her there so long she nearly died? Because she has every right to think that way.

I can deny it, but actions speak louder than words.

I don’t know how long I stare at the hole I punched into the wall, my rage fizzling out. When the door clicks open, I’m as calm as a man can be after hearing things he wishes he didn’t know. I don’t turn to see who it is. I know the scent.

“Talk to her, Aren.” Finan’s presence doesn’t surprise me. Neither does his suggestion.

I walk over to my office window and peer out. She’s sitting cross-legged beside the creek, her long, slightly wavy chestnut brown hair being tossed around by the wind.

She sits straight and tall. I can’t see her face, but it will be still. Quiet.

She’s so strong.

And she holds everything inside, so much that you wouldn’t know how strong she is just by looking at her.

The strongest person I’ve ever met. And even if she wasn’t my mate, I’d have fallen just as hard for her.

And Ihavefallen for her.

My mate.

A woman I nearly killed and who wants nothing to do with me.

“I don’t know how to talk to her.” I would never admit to anyone, except Finan.

Uncertainty makes me sound weak.

I’m not weak.

Finan’s footsteps are almost soundless as he crosses the room to stand beside me. His shoulder brushes mine slightly, the touch a sign that he’s there, and he’s listening.

Shifters are tactile. We don’t just like touch; we crave it from our pack and our mates. Keeping my hands off Kat hasn’t been easy, and it won’t get any easier the longer I’m around her.

He meets my gaze steadily. “You talked to me and the others when we lost our Alpha and Luna. You talked to Dania when her mate left her high and dry. You know how to talk to people, Aren.”

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