Filed to story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
“Electrical.”
“Alternating current or direct current?”
Huh?
“AC or DC?”
“What’s the difference again?”
“Guess you should have been paying attention in Physical Science.” Her mouth transforms for another brief second into a sweet, smug little grin, and her brown eyes twinkle. It’s impossible, given the circumstances of her upbringing, but she almost seems innocent.
“What does it feel like for you?” I ask.
“Indigestion.” The grin widens.
My mouth curves in response.
What’s happening here? I don’t smile at females. That causes conflict. I sure as shit don’t encourage familiarity from those of low status. That causes instability in the pack.
And what the hell is this socked-in-the-face feeling? The arousal makes sense, but my ability to think clearly is more compromised than I would have assumed. I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but I know weakness when I see it.
This is getting out of control.
I let her go and step back, putting several feet between us, ignoring the wolf and the pain in my chest.
She seems unfazed.
My wolf grumbles.
My insides feel empty, except for the bond which reaches for her. My cock throbs. I feel like I’m the one balancing on a narrow rafter high in the air.
She’s got her neck twisted, examining her sweater sleeve.
“You got me swampy,” she says. There is a wet spot where I grabbed her with the watch in my hand.
“Well, you threw the damn thing.”
We’re still speaking in quiet, confidential voices like we’re nose to nose. Like I’m not who I am, and she’s not what she is. I need to reestablish the order of things.
But maybe not quite yet.
Instead, I fiddle with the watch, tap it a few times. It’s dead.
“What are you going to do with it?” She peers at it with a great deal of interest.
“Toss it. It’s broken.”
“Don’t do that. I’ll take it.” Her cheeks—which haven’t faded at all—go so dark they look bruised.
“I’ll buy you another one.” I brace myself for the reaction I got earlier when I suggested she keep it. I don’t mean it as a payment, for fuck’s sake. I can give gifts. It is a thing that’s done.
But this time, she doesn’t take offense. She’s too taken with the soggy piece of crap in my hand.
“I want that one,” she says, tacking on a begrudging “please” after a rather long pause.
“It doesn’t work anymore.”
She huffs a small, exasperated sigh and goes silent. I become aware of pups shrieking in the trailer and a muted clatter of dishes. We’re not alone. We haven’t been all this time, even if it felt that way.
“You won’t be able to fix it.” Our tech guys wouldn’t even bother trying.
She draws herself taller, closing off her face again. I hate when she does that, as if I’m being cruel. I’m only telling her the truth. The watch isn’t salvageable.
“You’re not being reasonable,” I say.
She’s expressionless, but her disappointment flows through the bond.
Shit.
“Tell me why you want a watch that doesn’t work, and I’ll give it to you.” I don’t negotiate, I command, but in this situation, maybe I make an exception.
She tugs her bottom lip with her white teeth. “I’m a scavenger. We scavenge things.” She gestures to the watch. “That’s a thing.”
The “duh” is implied.
I hold it up higher and swing it like a hypnotist. Her eyes track it back and forth. It’s wild. She really is obsessed with this thing.
“Why this watch? I told you I’d get you a new one.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“You want this watch.”
Her chest is rising and falling faster as her agitation grows, her breasts straining against her sweater. A surge of lust like I’ve never felt rocks me on my heels. I’m an idiot for standing here, tempting Fate, but I have what she wants, and I’d cut my own arm off before I’d give up this power.
And then there’s my wolf who’s planted himself like a sentinel. If I found the strength to leave, I’d have to drag him away, and he’d fight.
We’re not going anywhere quite yet.
“Come on. Tell me why.”
“It’s mine.”
“No, it’s not. I bought it.”
She snorts softly. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
She would see it that way. Her kind has no respect for property rights. “Explain to me why something I paid for with money I earned doesn’t belong to me.”
She’s getting flustered, shifting from one foot to the other, her fists stretching out those sweater pockets. “It was yours, but now it’s mine.”
“And you still want it, even though it’s broken, and I’ve said I’ll get you one that works?” Why can’t she see the lack of logic? This is why you don’t argue with scavengers.
“Yes.” The word is underlined with a growl.
“Why?”
Her nostrils flare. “Talking to nobs is like talking to a wall. This one has the memory.” She breaks the word into syllables like she’s speaking the obvious to an idiot and not utter nonsense to the alpha heir.
“So it’s like a keepsake? You want a souvenir of the time you were caught stealing?”
She huffs. “I gave you an answer. Now give it to me.”
“Not until you make sense.”
She stamps her bare foot. The planks are raw, weather-beaten wood.
“Don’t do that. You’ll get splinters.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Keep the watch. Throw it away. Buy a new one.”
Why is she saying that like it’s bad?
“That’s what your kind does. You turn everything into trash.” Her red face has taken on a new, darker hue. Does she have a different shade for pissed-as-hell?