Page 167 of Altius
I glared at him over the tops of my glasses. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Neither am I.”
The long, shapely fingers of his right hand circled the base of my throat, cold fingertips digging into the junction of my neck and shoulder—the traditional location for a mating bite—subduing me in an instant.
But that didn’t mean I’d surrender willingly. Struggling against his hold, I tried to break free. “What the hell?”
“Repeat what Cal said.” Dominance frosted his words, but it wasn’t an outright command.
I regurgitated what little I’d absorbed, prompting Owen’s mouth to flatten with disapproval.
“Now isn’t the time for selective listening. You have decisions to make. And that requires facts.”
“You want facts?”
His eyes widened an eighth of an inch as I stepped closer, breaching his personal space. Tilting my head back, I stared into his flinty gaze and vented.
“Garvey could have caused permanent damage to Amir. To a twenty-year-old kid who had no idea how much danger he was in. That he’d been at risk for most of the season. And the university’s willful disregard for the football team’s safety should be publicly exposed. Those are the facts.”
“I agree,” Owen said. “That’s why Redwing is insisting that we continue our investigation. But that doesn’t concern you.”
“Yes, it does!”
“Be serious, Morgan.”
A languid vibration brushed against the pulse at the base of my throat, as clear and crystalline as a singing bowl.
Cal’s purr was an ardent rumble dedicated to my pleasure, and Wyatt’s was a joyful echo from the depths of his still-healing heart.
But Owen’s…
It was nothing short of hypnotic.
Vibrations sank into each and every nerve ending, rewiring me from the inside out, tethering me to the enigmatic alpha.
Leaving me entirely at his mercy.
“What do you want?” he quietly compelled.
“Justice. For every staff member Garvey slighted or woman he harassed. I want the coaches to be punished. All of them. For the head of athletics to be replaced. I want the university president to be forced to resign in shame. Even if it means burning the entire athletics department to the ground. Starting with the fucking Belcrest Football Operations Center.”
Owen bent forward, still purring. His gaze was as steady as the hand around my neck. “What else?”
“For the student-athletes to be healthy. To be safe. Always.”
“And?”
“That’s all.”
“No. There’s more. Isn’t there?” A flash of quicksilver surfaced in his eyes, followed by a faint, wolfish smile. “What do you want, deep down? Those furious impulses with nowhere to go. Your fears. Doubts. Greed.”
Owen’s cool breath brushed against my lips.
“Give them to me.”
“Owen, I…”
His fingers shifted upward with surgical precision, sending vibrations straight into my brain, snapping the last thread of my resistance.
