Page 77 of Finding Her Panthers

“Are you sure? We could find a booth and let you continue to watch,” he says, caressing the word watch like it's dirty. How does he do that?

“I’m good for now. I want to see Blue.” I brace myself on him so I can whisper in his ear. “Just promise sometime you’ll take me to a dark booth, and we can watch together.”

A rumble leaves his chest, and his hand tightens on my hip. “It’s a date.”

He guides me through the crowd of people, keeping me behind him, my hand intertwined with his. They part for him, either knowing he is the Alpha or sensing the power in his stride. He stops at the bottom of the stairs.

“He’s in my office. He uses it when I’m not here.” He pulls me close. “Up the stairs to the left. If you need to leave for any reason, and he’s not with you, call me. Don’t go anywhere alone,” he says seriously.

“Okay.” I kiss him on the cheek.

I move slowly up the stairs, feeling his gaze watching me the whole way. I turn the corner, remembering the last time I took this walk. I was so messed up, confused, and running on empty. Not sure if I wanted one mate, only to find out I had three. In some ways, my panther helped me adjust to the idea. She knew it was just the way things are. She was ready and willing to live life with them. For them to be everything to her. Me, not so much. It took my mind a while to catch up with my body.

Now, I can’t fathom my world without them. In such a short amount of time, they are under my skin, in my soul.

If Blue thinks he’s getting out of this, he’s out of his mind.

I don’t knock. I push open the door with determination. Marching through, my resolve to get answers propelled me forward, only to freeze barely in the room.

Blue is behind Jax’s desk, leaning back against the ledge that holds all the security screens, his arms crossed, one ankle over the other. A suit fits tight on his big frame. It’s black and open at the collar, giving me a glimpse of tattoos. His hair is styled, the blue on the tips brighter as if he dyed it recently. He didn’t shave. A scruff lines his face, bringing attention to his dark eyes, drinking me in. Like a predator.

“Shut the door,” he commands.

I quickly turn, one hand on the doorknob and the door itself, shutting it softly. His voice comes at me before I release it. “Lock it.” Shit.

Okay. I can do this.

“Come here.” This is not exactly how I thought this would go.

My legs move without thought, mindlessly following his directions.

I snap out of it when I reach the chairs in front of the desk. I stop, keeping them between us as a barrier.

“No.” I lift my chin.

“No?” He questions, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes. I mean no.” My back straightens. “This is not how this was supposed to go.”

“Really? How did you picture it?”

“I was going to come in, and you would be all grumpy and distracted. I would reassure you. We would discuss what was wrong, and I would make it better,” I pout.

“I was conflicted. I’m not anymore.” He drops his arms, and his hands curl around the table.

“Just like that,” I frown.

“Just like that.”

I stare at him. He’s starting to piss me off. “What was wrong?”

“It’s not important.” He waves it off.

“I think it is. You’ve been hiding away here for days.” I cross my arms in irritation.

“Not that long. I had things I needed to do here. I’m done now.” He shrugs.

“You're done? And everything is fine now?” I say slowly.

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