Betrayed Forced Mate (Rosecreek Special Ops Wolves #4)

“The one and only. As far as I know.”

We sit there in silence for a moment, then Zane says, while playing with an errant straw wrapper, “How’s he doing?”

“Oh,” I say, clearing my throat. I don’t feel qualified to do that, so I answer a different question instead. “He’s on the team. Does tech stuff—surveillance and tech and that kind of stuff.”

He nods, and it gets quiet again.

“What do you do?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” he says, grinning and abandoning the straw wrapper to play with his cigarette box.

“What does that even mean?” I laugh, noting that fidgeting must be a Cox trait.

“Well,” he says, taking the tiniest sip of his coffee. “Just got my pilot’s license.”

“Wow,” I say, choking down a drink of my coffee as well. “So, Detroit?”

“Yeah,” Zane says, raising his eyebrows at me. This, finally, seems to open him up a bit. “I’m kind of shocked you don’t know that. I mean—I know By doesn’t like to talk about the past, but that seems like a pretty innocent detail.”

“Because of the vampire stuff?” I ask, before I can think it through, then I smack a hand to my mouth, shaking my head and speaking through my fingers. “Shit, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to just—”

“It’s okay,” Zane says, “it was a long time ago.”

He pauses, wrapping his hands around his mug and looking out the window. We’re the only ones in the bakery this early, and we can hear Lisa clanking around with pans and machinery in the back. It’s peaceful.

“I mean,” he says, clearing his throat and meeting my eyes. His are dark brown, just like Byron’s. “Obviously, that kind of thing doesn’t ever leave you. It’s part of the reason I’m a rogue.”

“Oh,” I say, nodding, “so that’s what’s up with your scent.”

“Damn,” he says, chuckling and pretending to hang his head. “Not every day a girl says I smell.”

“No,” I laugh, “it’s not that, obviously, I just—I’ve never smelled a rogue before.”

“Yeah,” Zane says, clearing his throat. “Left when I was young, never looked back. Our Alpha didn’t really seem to care about what happened to our family—he was too busy trying to garner more power for his position. It was hard to stay there when it felt like none of our pack mates cared about what had happened to us.”

“I can imagine,” I say, clearing my throat.

“My dad was close to the Alpha,” Zane says, eyes on his drink. “That’s why he had a run-in with vamps in the first place. But, since my mom and dad were blood-bonded, they went at the same time.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” Zane says, sighing and pulling a coin from his pocket. He starts to slip it through his fingers, flipping it like a magician. “She was making spaghetti. I can’t even look at that dish the same.”

“What was it—” I stop, thinking of the blood bond between Byron and me. If he died right now, what would happen to me?”

“Like a heart attack,” Zane says, raising his eyes to mine. “Like her heart just stopped beating. She clutched at her chest, and we didn’t even have a chance to call 911 before she was gone. It was horrible, but I think it was worse for Byron. He was always the responsible one, and he always felt like it was his fault. I was more of a trouble child.”

“I appreciate that you’re telling me all this,” I say, flattening my hands on the table. “But…why? I mean, we’re practically strangers.”

“Well,” he says, laughing and spinning the coin on the table. “I know, Byron. He’ll act like I don’t, but when you go through that kind of shit together, you get to know the innermost part of someone. My bet right now is that, even though the two of you are clearly mates, he’s pushing you away. Not letting you in. That sound about right?”

“Yes,” I whisper, thinking of the way he pulled out of me the other night, not trusting that I’m on birth control. “That sounds about right.”

“I thought so,” Zane says, taking a small sip of his coffee and trying not to grimace. I can’t stop myself from smirking at the effort he’s putting in. “Well, I guess—things haven’t always been easy between Byron and me, and I’m sure they’re not easy between the two of you, but he loves you. I can tell that. I—well, I guess I’m kind of barging in here and asking you not to give up on him. It just might take a little work to convince him that the world isn’t out to get him, or that he deserves to be happy, or whatever.”

“Doesn’t everyone deserve to be happy?”

“He still blames himself for our mother’s death,” Zane says, “so—”