Page 7 of Sweetheart: Part One

“Yes.” I swallowed. “That’s my name.”

His eyebrow rose, and then he barked a laugh, shattering the strange tension that had thickened the air since the moment he’d walked in. “That’s a stupid name.”

Like the lightest feather, the unruly rage of my mother brushed my soul, demanding attention even in the most inopportune moments. I replied before thinking. “And youchosethe nameEbony Starless.”

Ah.

Shit.

Silver eyes glittered, then he was crossing toward me, a curl forming on those perfect lips of his. I slipped from between the desk in an instant, suddenly not wanting to be trapped by anything, as if I might have to run.

My fists balled instinctively as he drew up before me, almost nose to nose if he didn’t dwarf me by at least a foot. There was something daring in his expression, as if I’d just set goalposts in a game I didn’t know the rules to.

A chill skittered down my spine at the same moment the door was flung open again.

That was when the rest of the Crimson Fury pack entered. Love Hightower was first, followed by Rook Harrison and Drake Jaccard.

“What in thefuck’s going on?” Love drew up as we both looked over at them.

All of them were beautiful.

Drake, with his strong nose and dark ringlets dancing about porcelain skin. Rook, with rich brown skin, messy waves of black hair that was shaved shorter on the sides—the few locks in the middle tumbling into chestnut eyes. Love, with bright blue irises and a complexion pale as death. His raven hair was tied back, tumbling down his back in loose waves.

I almost burst into tears right there, and I wasn’t sure why. Was it from seeing, up close, the men I’d been so desperate to meet? Or perhaps seeing the men I knew I’d been sent to ruin? Or maybe the looming threat of Ebony, still towering above me, inches away, and nothing like I’d imagined.

They stared between us, but they seemed much less interested in me than they were their pack brother.

“Ebony.” The single word from Love was dangerous. A warning.

“What?” Ebony’s voice had dropped low, almost a snarl. When I looked up at him, I could see a delighted glint in his eye. He was fixated on Love, the sneer back on his face.

I tried to inch a step away, but no luck. I might have slipped out from between the seat and the desk, but Ebony still had me up against it. There was no way to move without drawing attention to myself. Something in the back of my mind warned me against that. Ebony was still glaring at his pack.

“Rein it the fuck in.” That was Rook.

“Rein it in?” Ebony asked, each word slow, and doused in something frigid.

I felt at that moment, an imminent threat.

The omega half of my mind rejected that: the part that knew that the man beside me was my mate. The other half—weary and still tending wounds from over-trust—told me to run.

Right. Now.

But where?Fromthis place? Or perhaps to one of the others in this room?

Despite years of obsessing, I knew them as well as I knew Ebony Starless, and that was not one bit.

I shifted—just the slightest bit—my fear shoving me onward.

Ebony moved like lightning. I let out a little shocked gasp as he seized me, forcing me around and dragging me against his chest by my neck.

I went still, terror for more than just him squeezing my chest tight.

This wasn’t right.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

He was my mate.

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