Twice Tempted: Between Two Alphas (Mia and Cameron) novel Chapter 92

Chapter Ninety-Two

“Why?” Eric says.

What?

“Why does he want you?”

I shift my gaze away. He reaches for my face again and I slap his hand. His eyes widen, like he’s surprised I’d hit him or reject his touch.

But I can’t help it.

Enemies aside… his hand on me… it’s too much.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say when he stands there, arms crossed, prepared to wait me out.

He snorts. “I can’t count the number of things I don’t want to do that I do anyway.”

Wow, that’s insulting.

“This.” I point back and forth between us. “Was not my idea. I don’t want to be here anymore than you do.”

He shrugs. “Responsibility is accepting that we are the cause and the solution of our problems.”

It’s almost a ‘dad’ thing to say, and it takes me back to my own father and the archives he made me read. I hated doing homework and studying ancient texts. In hindsight, my life was much simpler then.

This memory…with Cassian…it’s from that time.

I glance away. The memory is like a too tight sweater. Stifling and scratchy against my skin. Uncomfortable like most embarrassing memories.

“I snuck out,” I finally say. “It was summer.”

His brows rise.

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

This would’ve been several years before his pack conquered mine. Long before I even knew my mother wasn’t my birth mother.

“In summer, my pack migrates into Brooks Range. It’s right at the Arctic line.”

Eric whistles. “That’s pristine country.”

Yes, it is.

I’m wistful for a moment. The land in the far north. It’s so beautiful. So open and untamed and rugged. You can run for miles and miles in any given direction and never see another being.

“There was a boy.”

“Of course there was.” He smirks. It transforms his features into an almost boyish grin. I blink, doubting this…lighter side of him.

This Alpha’s moods are mercurial. Hateful one minute, easygoing the next. It’s like staring at multiple versions of the same person. I’m not sure which is real or which is to be believed.

He rolls his hand. The nonverbal version of ‘tell the story.’

“We were supposed to go swimming.”

His grin widens. “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

My own mouth twitches.

This is very unexpected. This moment of civility.

“It was hot so I waded into the creek.”