Page 63 of Conner's Luna

"Did it feel good or bad?" he asks me.

"It's always bad. She's a fucking nightmare, but she's my mate. It's meant to be. Ordained and all that shit." I rub my hand over my face. "You know what my dad went through, Sarj. You're both MateLess. You tell me that you wouldn't sell your soul for a mate?" I rasp out. I feel shitty doing it, Sarj has his own problems, but I can't help but feel as if no one in my family wants me to mate withmy mate.

Sarj nods, looking far away from a moment. "She called me today."

Both Sean and I wince for him. He's hopelessly in love with his brother's mate. He never stood a chance. "She wanted to know if Young Alpha had grown up yet," he smiles at me weakly.

"No," I scoff, bitterness scoring me. I was a fun, happy pup the last time I saw the infamous Luna Willa. She called me Young Alpha. She's, of course, the same age as me.

"Who is on your mind when you first wake up, Conner?" Sarj asks quietly.

I choke out a laugh of surprise as the answer comes easily, "truthfully? I think of Bailey."

"You seem upset by that," Sarj eyes me knowingly.

"I think offuckingBailey," I clarify. "Then I feel guilty for thinking about it."

"Why the guilt?"

"Because Bailey's right. I belong to a different female, even if I don't want to."

"You belong to Lydia. Lydia belongs to Trey. Who does Bailey belong to?"

---

Bailey

I rub my arms, sip my tea, and try to stave off the tears. I'm scared and so, so tired. My computer screen keeps blinking. It's impossible to ignore now that I know about it. I searched colleges and universities that I have no intention of ever attending, just to throw off whoever is spying on me. I don't know how Jason Bourne does it. Playing the spy game is debilitating.

The door knocks... or, well... someone is knocking again. I hate the door. I don't want to answer it, but the person isn't going away. Go away, knocking person. I've filled my quota for the week.

The knocking is relentless. As I approach the door. my vision is blurry and my head aches fiercely. I go on tiptoes, trying to peer through the peephole. It's too high for me. I know that. I knew that. I'm just soexhausted. Clumsy, I fall into the door heavily.

"Bailey? Babe, are you OK?"

Tears are streaming down my cheeks when I open the door for Conner. No security chain for the big, fat jerk.

"Aw, baby don't cry," he steps forward and sweeps me into his arms. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Was Trey here? Did he hurt you?"

"You're spying on me," I whisper in a hoarse, broken voice.

"No, babe. I knew he was here because... I, ah, saw him leaving. But I'm not spying." Conner starts to carry me back down the hall.

"Not Trey. The MacBooks. You put a virus on my MacBooks," I whisper. "Jerk."

He pauses, then speaks in a serious, low voice with a core of pure steel, "babe, someone put a spy program on your computers?"

"You did," I sniffle, wiping my eyes (and nose) on his shirt.

"I didn't," he said flatly. "When did-" he cuts himself off as I put my head down on his shoulder. I believe him, without question, and that scares me for many reasons.

"Ah, sweetheart. Let's get you to bed, honeygirl."

"'Kay. Upstairs."

I feel Conner tuck me into my bed. There's so much to worry about. I should get up and make a list. Then a warm, hard body wearing nothing but a pair of shorts spoons me.

I'll worry about everything in the morning.

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