Page 55 of Rejected Exile

My fingers go up to my neck. Roarke's gaze follows the movement, and I realize with a heady rush of pleasure that the spot he sucked onto my neck is going to leave a mark. Just beneath it is the scar where the chip went in.

Licking my lips, I murmur, "What if things changed, and Icouldshift?"

"I don't understand." He frowns, brows drawing together in a serious expression. "How would that even happen?"

"Humor me, Roarke."

"I—well. If youcouldshift, I would tell you that you should hope I'm right."

"What? Why? No one wants their pack to die."

"This packisdying, Delilah. In fact, it's already dead." There's a deeply unhappy tone in his voice. "The land pulls back from us. Prey is hard to find—we have to go on hunting missions that last days or even weeks, like the one Kieran is on now, to find anything worth bringing home.

"Vampires hunt openly. Some have even begun to drain townies enough to leave marks and memories behind. And there's no one in town who is up to the task of being alpha—don't look at me like that. We both know that an alpha has to have a mate, and I'm not putting a woman through that."

Blinking, I ask, "What happened to your mate? The one you would've gotten shortly after I left?"

"She's still alive, thank god," he says bluntly. "After Finn's mate found a witch to dissolve their mate bond for her and prevent the Mating Ceremony from ever taking place, I went to the same witch and did the same thing. I wish I could say my mate was mad at me for ending things, but she was relieved—last I heard she took up with another pack and is about to give birth. Something that could never have happened for her here."

I take in a deep breath, absorbing all that. I'd wondered what happened to Finn and Roarke's mates, but it isn't exactly the kind of thing you ask about over breakfast.

"Lance is looking for a cure," I tell him. "The pack could come back. A new alpha might even be able to fix things—you never know."

"A new alpha could, and will," he says, the contradiction in what he's said confusing me. "I've already reached out to other packs and asked them for their help. A few have responded. If we're lucky, and the fates aligned, one will show up soon to take over completely, dissolve the old bonds, and restore the land—ending the Glass Pack forever."

It takes a moment for his words to catch up to me and understanding to dawn.

What he's suggesting hasn't been done in centuries. Taking over a pack, dissolving its bonds—that doesn't just change things between people. It destroys the pack connection to the land and alters it forever. The old pack name is erased from history, and the new pack forges bonds that take over everything.

Sometimes, when it's been done in the past, even true mates have been ripped from each other, their bonds dissolved, forced to bond with new mates whether they want to or not. An abomination—but one that most new alphas insist on to create a pack that's truly theirs.

Horror fills me. In a sickened voice I point out, "My father would never have let something like that happen."

"Which is exactly why I had to wait until he was dead to get it into place." A true expression of regret crosses Roarke's face. "I didn't think you'd find out about it, though. At least not for a while—by now, I expected you to be back in San Diego for good, and happy about it."

"You can't do that, no matter where I am." I shake my head, tears pricking my eyes. "It's an abomination to dissolve pack bonds."

"There are almost no living mates left around here," Roarke points out. "The only ones left are same-sex couples, and the new alpha will let them remain. It's reproducing mates that present the problem—no mated female werewolf of reproductive age is left in Glass Pack Territory."

"I am," I point out, curling my legs up under me and drawing the towel tight around my naked body. "You forgot about me."

"I guess that's true." Leaning back on his heels, he studies me. "But Delilah—would you even really want to form a mate bond? Sure, it's technically possible. There's no reason for you to want that, though, when you don't have a wolf calling out for it. Craving the security of a mate. I know if I didn't have to stick around here I would be gone in a flash."

"That's the thing, though." My fingers draw up to the spot on my neck again, where the skin is raw from so much idle scratching, and my thoughts go constantly. "As it turns out, Idohave a wolf. If she's still under here. And I've been thinking for a while that I want to find out who she is."

"Wait, how?" His eyes fall to my fingers and widen slightly. "You're not saying that—but no, it isn't possible. The shift-suppressing technology was outlawed."

"It was. Yet I have a microchip in my neck that prevents my wolf from coming out."

This makes Roarke shake his head in horror. A growl rumble in his chest. "It shouldn't even be possible. Those microchipstorturedus. Whoever did that to you should be shot."

"It's entirely possible that it was my father." At his shocked look, I add, "Though I'm not completely certain it was him. All I know is that he was aware of the chip—and he chose, at some point, to keep it a secret."

A secret under lock and key in the drawer of one of his filing cabinets.

"I wish I could go back in time and rip it out of you. Living without your wolf, lacking a connection to its soul—that's an abomination to do to anyone, much less without their knowledge or consent."

"I appreciate the horror." I reach up to brush my thumb against Roarke's cheek. "Do you see what else it means, though? There has to be a future for the pack, because otherwise I don't know where else I'd go."

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