Page 50 of Jace's Mate
She didn’twantgentle.She didn’t want to feel safe in his arms.
And yet, she did.
Confused by her own reaction, Anikka stepped back, and thankfully, Jace let her go.
“Jace, this is a lot to take in,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.“I think I need to just… sleep on everything.Process what you’ve told me.”
The betas snorted, but looked away.
She ignored them.Her gaze stayed locked on Jace.“How about I head home tonight, and I’ll come back tomorrow?That’ll give me a chance to clean up, grab some clothes, think things through.I’ll probably have more questions for you then.”
He was shaking his head before she even finished.“Anikka, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back to a man who’s hurt you.”His voice was still gentle, but there was steel in it now.“If you need privacy, I’ll arrange a separate apartment for you.Or a hotel.But I’d rather take you to the forest tonight.You’ll understand more once we’re out there.The run will answer questions you haven’t even asked yet.Ipromise.”
She huffed and crossed her arms.“And what about the fact that Ineedtime?You’ve thrown a lot at me.And my uncle—he’s going to be wondering where I am.”
“Ragnor has already sent someone to bring your uncle to me,” Jace said calmly.“We’ll get everything sorted out once he and I have had a chance to talk.”
Anikka’s eyes narrowed, anger flashing to the surface.“Thematter, I’m guessing, isme?”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation.
Her foot began tapping against the floor, the subtle tick of fury she hadn’t even noticed.“And I suppose you’re going to keep me out of that conversation?”
Jace tilted his head, watching her with a flicker of concern.Maybe—maybe—he’d overstepped.“These discussions are better left to the men, Anikka.”
She let out a sharp, incredulous snort.“Oh,hell no.I’m leaving,” she snapped, turning on her heel.
“Then you don’t want to run with the pack tonight?”he asked, voice deceptively mild.
She paused.The wordrunhad her heart doing a curious flip.Her body wanted it—craved it, even though her brain protested.
Still, wasn’t it dangerous?Her uncle had always said it was never safe to be out after dark.But then again… her uncle said a lot of things that she was slowly learning were untrue.Also, nothing her uncle had ever offered her made her hum with anticipation with just one word:run.
Maybe she could just watch.What if she simply observed from a distance?Get a sense of what they meant by this whole "pack run" thing without actually joining in.It wasn’t like she was in shape for that kind of thing anyway.She wasn’t out of shape, but her uncle hadn’t exactly encouraged freedom or physical activity.Most of her days had been spent inside, cooking or cleaning.
She took a breath.“Fine.I’ll go.But I’mnotrunning.”
For a beat, there was stunned silence in the room.
Then—laughter.Not mocking, but amused.All three betas chuckled, clearly holding back their full reactions out of respect for their Alpha.None of them dared correct her, but their smirks said enough.
Jace didn’t laugh.He only smiled and stepped closer, placing a warm, confident hand at the small of her back.
“We’ll see about that,” he murmured.
Chapter 15
Thesunwassettinglow, casting a sickly orange hue across the threadbare walls of the house.Dust floated in the stale air like ash, and the fading light did little to warm the hollow stillness of the living room.The floor creaked with every step, the once-polished wood now dulled and scratched from years of neglect.Blank picture frames hung crookedly on the walls, and the furniture looked like it had been dragged in from garage sales and junk piles—barely held together and mismatched in both style and era.
“Where the hell is my dinner?”Wilton roared, his voice echoing off the empty walls with more desperation than authority.
He stormed into the dim kitchen, scowling at the large, dented pot still sitting on the back burner.They’d eaten the last of the stew last night—if it could be called stew—but something should’ve been simmering again by now.He stomped closer and lifted the lid.A wave of rotting, sour stench slapped him in the face.
“Filthy!”he barked, recoiling with a hand over his nose.“Anikka!Get in here and make something for dinner!”
Silence answered him.
He spun around and stomped toward the front of the house, toward the room he called his “study.”In reality, it was just a glorified closet with a desk and a rusting lamp, the drawers crammed with scribbled notes and greasy envelopes.It was where he tried—and failed—to figure out how to salvage this mess of a mission.
