“What?” I ask. “What happened?”
“You didn’t hear?” Sherry looks positively delighted. And then does an exaggerated wince.
My blood runs cold. She looks like she’s got the juiciest gossip in the world and her expression tells me that not only is what she about to tell me something bad, but also… she’s thrilled at being the one to tell it.
“When Tyson rutted your sister publicly after Mason made it clear he wanted her.”
The world stops turning and it feels like the blood has all drained straight out of me.
“Right there in front of over half the pack,” she continues. “The only reason it didn’t end in a fight is because all the alphas that were here tethered their will and bond to keep the two of them from ripping one another apart. Thankfully, they were able to diffuse the situation and the damage was minimal. Other than the damage to your sister, of course.” She shrugs.
“Rutted?” I whisper.
“He half-shifted and threw her on the floor, fucked her in front of everyone in a half-shifted form. It was brutal. I’ve heard of shifters being able to half shift and hold it but never saw it before that night. A lot of us were shook, girl. Shook! She was trying to claw her way away from him. They had to sand the floor down there, sand out her nail marks and the blood stains. Catrina made sure that was done before today. Made sure the setup made the space look as different as possible from that night, too.”
I blink in astonishment as I process what she’s saying. She keeps talking.
“Mason’s blood too, I guess. Mason’s eyes were bleeding. Tyson wanted to kill him, but Mase bared his throat and things cooled. I’m sure you’ve heard how alphas are sometimes rough when they claim their mate and that bond is until death, but your sister looked like she wanted to die right there. I’m surprised she’s looking so happy this soon.” She takes another gulp of her wine and eyes me from head to toe. “I know your kind doesn’t exactly understand our primal sides. I guess she got okay with it.” She shrugs. “Though, having that delicious beast as her mate? I guess most women would get okay with just about anything to be mated to first alpha of this pack. He is absolutely scrumptious.” Her eyes dance with delight at what’s undoubtedly the obviousness of the situation – that I had no idea about any of this.
My eyes find Mason in the crowd. He’s talking to my sister. They’re both smiling. My sister laughs at something he says.
Something inside me, something I’ve never felt before the past week, the same something I fought to not feel but that I let out from behind the armor? It shrivels up, withers, and turns to dust in the middle of my chest.
Mason’s eyes slice to me and immediately, his expression changes. Once again, it’s like he’s read my mind.
Shoop by Salt n’ Pepa comes on and Bailey and another girl named Audrey rush over to me. “Wanna dance, Amie?” Audrey asks.
“Excuse me,” I say to them, seeing Sherry, the raging cunty bitch smiling like she’s the cat who got the cream. Mason is hurrying in my direction past Tyson and Ivy, who are now kissing by the dessert table, which feels like an algebra problem I can’t possibly solve. I give my head a shake, as if to shake all the visions swimming in my brain free, and I’m so, fucking out of here.
I run in the opposite direction, pushing my way past dozens of people to get outside.
There are a lot of people outside, too; people trying to talk to me, smiling faces that lose their smiles as I struggle to get away. Where am I even going? I think Mason’s house is to the right. Shit. My bag is at Ivy’s house. I mean Tyson’s house.
I’ll start at Mason’s. Get my shit, which isn’t unpacked yet, so that makes it easier. I kick my high heels off and grab them, then move in that direction.
“Amie!” I hear called out from behind me.
Mason.
No. Fuck no. Just hearing his voice, that sound tears through me like a poison arrow through my heart.
I break into a run.
“Amelia!” His voice is closer as I approach the gas station across the street.
I try to run faster.
“Baby.” He catches me with an arm around my waist and I go up into the air.
A horrible sound of agony is ripped from me as I struggle to get out of his grip. We wind up on the grass. He’s on his butt, me in his lap.
“Baby,” he says in a gruff, pained voice, putting his nose to my neck, to that claiming mark. And suddenly, I feel dirty.
I feel dirty and cheap and so, so fucking stupid.