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Rejected Mate and Following Fate novel Chapter 55

I flash a wary look at the Doc in the corner, who turns a paler shade, his brow furrowing, etching his features into that of worry, and he casts an evasive look back at me. He darts a glance at Colton then back again to me, suddenly sheepish.

"It can't be Deacon, right? It's too early!" I point out while asking him to confirm, to calm my own sudden whirlwind of nerves, hating the apprehension I can feel from him, but he swallows loudly.

"I may have over exaggerated our head start rather somewhat, a teensy little bit. I didn't want to alarm you and give you reason to doubt coming with me, dear girl. If you knew they were hot on our heels, so to speak, you would have queried the plan and I had faith the fates would intervene if we just got out. I had to keep the sedation low, so I didn't kill my human staff in the process, and sadly that meant the wolves recovered quickly." He's apprehensive about admitting to a lie, recoiling slightly and I give him a deflated smile, translating that it's okay and it doesn't really make much difference now, because it is what it is.

"Damn right, it's Deacon. Meadow and the pack are tracing them down the north road in, following them. They'll be here in a couple of minutes." Colton growls and sweeps past me, determination oozing from him, and that growing hostility coming off him like a dense smoke. He's moving into battle mode in his head and I can't do much except follow him out of the infirmary. Knowing no matter what, I should be out there for this entourage arriving. After all, it's because of me and Sierra they are even coming. "You should stay here." Colton flashes me back a moody look, fierce, overbearing protectiveness shining through, and gets my 'hell no' glare of warning flashed right back.

I'm not about to be sat in the corner and cotton wrapped because Colton thinks he needs to take care of a feeble little femme. This femme took down a bear, and she isn't about to be intimidated by that idiot Deacon.

'That son of a bitch darted me in the back. I'm not missing him crawling up and realizing this is a Santo domain! I want to experience that epiphany and watch him grovel.' It's through gritted teeth as my own aggression peeks, thinking about that smug assholes face, and the longing to kick him in the balls when I was in the facility. That little simmer of rage ignites and my skin tingles in anticipation, revving up my anger for that slimy weasel.

"You stay on my ass then. Stay close where I can intervene should I need to." Colton drops that overbearing, no nonsense command, and turns away, obviously picking up on my stubborn tone and knowing arguing with me is futile. Still has to be in charge of my safety though.

He leads the way immediately, straight out into the hallway, through the foyer, and out the still open main door at hyper speed. Other wolves either getting out of the way, or turning and following their leader, as I assume, he pack links and issues orders. 

He's eager to get out front and await our guests. His wolf starting to peek in the glowing of his eyes and that snarl in his tone, but he keeps it in check and stays mostly human, rolling his shoulders and leaning forward lightly, so that stance of psycho comes through prominently when we come to a halt at the gravel driveway that spans the whole front width of the homestead.

Wolves tend to hunch forward and look at you from a tilted down chin. It's usually because as wolves we prefer to go to all fours even though we can walk upright, and Colton seems caught between the two. Stance and lowered head as his eyes glow viciously and his words take on that dominant growl in the undertones. He isn't planning on turning, but he is planning on intimidating the shit out of Deacon. I can sense his actions and read him way better than I used to be able to. I wonder if our wolves are synching a little because of the closeness of how we got in the infirmary, or maybe I'm just getting better at dissecting the mood and picking out who's belongs to who.

He leads us out across the new, cleared sweeping gravel drive, all the vehicles are gone, and I can see how huge the forefront of the homestead's entry is. Without the wolves flanking and taking us in without seeing it, I can appreciate the wide vast space, tree lined with dense forest, and only one narrow opening coming in north bound. Colton was right about this being smaller than the manor at the mountain, but it's still pretty impressive.

The headlights flash in the far distance through that gap in the trees and I realize it's because the road is straight, and long, and standing here, we can see it for a couple of miles. Being dark means we can see the flickering lights moving in on us. Like incoming orbs bouncing around on uneven gravel terrain.

"Two trucks… Radar can pick out heat signatures of twelve wolves between the two." Colton murmurs it at me, as if Radar being able to do that isn't a surprise, and now his name makes perfect sense. He can see body heat through objects, infrared sight.


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