Page 132 of Pack Rivals, Part One

"Tails," Courtney tells me.

Right. Tails. Boston. Okay. Good, we have a decision.

"Are you happy with that?" my cousin asks.

"Yes." I try not to think of Axel, standing on the sand, his shirt ripped open, his lip all bloody. I try not to think of Connor and Nate too.

I fail.

They all come crashing into my mind and my heart pangs.

"No, no, I can't reject York. I can't." I bury my face in my hands. "I just can't do it."

"Maybe," Courtney picks up the penny and pulls my hands from my face, "maybe if you experienced such a visceral reaction to the idea of rejecting Pack York, it means they are the ones you should choose."

"Maybe?" I rake my fingers through the sand.

"Good, right, so you're going with Pack York." I frown at her. "Oh no, Bea, what?"

"I can't reject Pack Boston." I screw up my eyes trying to imagine sending Angel and the others away. I imagine their disappointed faces; I imagine how strained my heart would feel. "I can't."

"Are you sure you're not worrying about their feelings instead of your own?" Courtney asks, swiping damp hair from my wet cheeks. "You knowyouget to decide. It's whatyouwant. And what anyone else wants or thinks or says doesn't matter."

I smile at her. "I know, Courtney, and I know I spent too much of my life pandering to that man–"

"That shithead!"

"But I'm not going back to that. I want to choose what is right for me. I'm just not sure what the hell is right for me."

"Then do you want to get out of here before they get back?"

I shake my head. "No, maybe when I'm faced with the decision, I'll be able to make it." I struggle to my feet. "I'm going to have to."

* * *

"They're coming,"Courtney calls a half hour later. I'm standing under another ice-cold shower. I have been since Axel and Angel left.

I'm hoping if my body is calmer, my head will be clearer and I'll be able to come to some kind of rational decision.

But as I switch off the flow and step out into the bedroom, I realize any reprieve the shower may have brought is short lived. My temperature climbs and all the slick I'd washed away comes flooding back.

I slip a dress over my head, and pull on some panties.

Oh well, there's not a lot I can do about it.

I meet Courtney out in the hallway and together we go and wait on the front porch, watching the two cars race down the driveway again.

"They are going far too fast," I mutter, screwing up my face as their brakes screech and they swing up in front of us. More dust swirls into the air and I cough and splutter and waft it away with my hand.

Axel climbs out of his car first, followed quickly afterwards by Angel from his, then Silver and Connor, Nate and Hardy.

They line up in a row, a wall of alpha muscle and bone, and even Courtney can't help a gasp. My eyes trail automatically over each one of them. They're all different. Their skin, their hair and their eyes, all different colors and shades, the shape and sculpture of their bodies each unique. Everything except those two pairs of gray eyes – almost identical in hue.

It would be impossible to say which one of these men was the most beautiful. Utterly impossible.

My stomach growls as if it wants to feast on them all, and the rest of my body seems to agree, a pulse beating between my legs and my skin tingling.

Courtney's clutching the gun again, just in case. She leans in to whisper in my ear, "Any ideas?"

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