Page 145 of Unforgivable

I give him some more water, wondering how much of the story he understands.

"We were on the last stretch. There were fourteen of us in the race that year, but only eight were at the front. I had two females right behind me. Heather and Jasmine. Heather is not the best runner, but she's very fast in the water. Jasmine is a trooper, just keeps going and going, a tough female. It was her last race that year. She was Mated, and she and her mate were going to start their family soon."

"Cloe was fourth, behind us all by about a quarter-mile. Heather, she fell on the incline, downhill. Her ankle, oh crap, it was so bad, Devel. She broke it, and it swoll up almost instantly to twice, maybe three times, its normal size."

I take a breath and check him. He seems to be sleeping. Gently I lay his head back onto the pillow.

"Jasmine and I stopped to help her. I told Jasmine to finish. She would be first place for her last race, you know? She waited to see if we would be OK without her, then raced on to finish and tell them to come back to help Heather."

"I sat with Heather, just holding her because it hurt her so much to move." Absently I smooth Devel's hair from his forehead. "Cloe came down the hill. She didn't stop, didn't even hesitate. I know she saw us sitting there. We were practically still on the path. She just ran right by us. Two more runners came by before the medics showed up. Annie-Mae and Sonja. They both stopped, saw we were OK, then kept running."

I laugh sarcastically. "Cloe finished first. Jasmine had veered off to go to the clinic to get help instead of finishing. Cloe got her prize, and no one stopped to comment about how she just ignored an injured packmate. Daan was so proud of her, smiling at her stupid face. I remember when the medic truck pulled up to the finish line with Heather and I riding it. There was no recognition about how Cloe was behind us the entire race and just- I mean, what a bitch, right? I told myself, Devel, at the time, that no one knew that she was behind us. That Daan had no idea that she had won because Jasmine and I helped Heather, but now I have to fucking wonder, don't I? Did he know and just didn't give a rat's ass that his precious mate was a selfish cunt? I didn't rat her out. I should have, but I wanted to be the bigger wolf. I should have straight-up punched her in the face right then and there. Whore. You're lucky she rejected you."

A soft, coughing noise draws my attention. I gasp when I realize I am standing, hands on my hips, berating Devel for his bitch of a mate.

"Sorry, Dev!" I go to kneel next to him. Another weak cough, and I realize that he's laughing. "Sorry," I say more sheepishly. "I just got angry all over again."

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Everyone watches him eat it. There's no hesitation, no disgusted face, no wincing as he chews and swallows charred pieces mixed with overcooked globs of noodles and cheese.

I glance at the plate of perfectly cooked ribeye, heaped with mashed potatoes and green beans, sitting on the counter, waiting for the joke to be over.

"Um, Carmichael?" I ask slowly. He glances up at me. "You don't have to eat it."

"Needs a little less salt," he claims before continuing to eat it.

"OK, but your meal is-"

Ezra kicks me gently under the table. All of the males are staring at Carmichael in fascination. It's like watching the gross pup eat worms on the playground at school. Carmichael is a hero for eating my casserole.

I straighten up in my chair, smiling at the males. "Carmichael eats my cooking."

"He eats everything; pup has an iron stomach," Rhet points out. I glare at him, and he's quick to amend, "not that your cooking isn't fabulous, Pretty."

Carmichael finishes the casserole, the whole damn thing, with a belch. "'Scuse me," he pounds his chest, drinks his glass of water, then stands with his plate. Putting it in the dishwasher, he grabs the steak Bea made and sits back down.

"I would have eaten it, too," Inuit tells me.

"I would never force you to eat that," I tell him in a low voice.

"It wasn't that bad," Carmichael says.

"Baby, what did Alpha Macon talk to you about yesterday? I forgot to ask," Thjis changes the subject away from my cooking, thankfully.

"Oh," I slump a little, "he was telling me about his mom, but Luna Gloria told me about her mate, Alpha Quin."

Bea sighs sadly, shaking her head.

"Didn't he die of a broken heart?" Mom asks. "Luna Gloria didn't love him or something?"

I think about the discussion I had with Alpha Macon. "He was testing me, I think, seeing if I could forgive Daan."

Growls and snarls fill the room. I pat Thjis' shoulder and squeeze Ezra's thigh while Carm grabs Rhet as Blue-Eyes tries to stand. I'm not sure where Rhet was going, but I'm glad Carmichael stopped him.

"I'm never going to be Daan's mate, whether he accepts me or not," I call out over the noise.

It takes a few minutes for my males to settle down. I won't lie; part of me loves how protective and possessive they are. My she-wolf revels in the adoration of their wolves. It feels good to be wanted.

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