Chapter 40

Kyp

My head sunk into my hands, dread spiraling through me and sitting in my belly like lead. Victor Atwood was my father. I choked on the thought, bile rising in the back of my throat. Wolf whimpered and circled painfully. Neither of us wanted anything to do with the madman targeting the Wolfe pack, and possibly working on some master plan to dominate the world.

Bitter laughter erupted out of nowhere and I momentarily wondered if I was losing it. After all, I was the offspring of a totally crazed monster. I swiped a hand across my eyes and sniffed. What was I going to do?

The approach of a car sent Wolf scampering up to the front of my mind, but almost instantly, I knew it was Rachel.

Rachel. My heart pounded. Rachel. My chest ached and I felt feverish thinking about what this new revelation was going to mean for this thing trying to bloom between us. The sweet pain in my chest every time I thought of her. The rush that covered me head to toe every time we kissed. I couldn’t imagine ever feeling this way about another girl. I couldn’t imagine my life without Rachel.

But how could I keep her in my life now? I wasn’t sure I could bear that either. I’d tried to slow things down so we didn’t burn out before we had a chance to properly give us a shot, and so I could deal with my own insecurities. But I was her Alpha. She was my pack. Suddenly I wanted the responsibility. Wanted it like I never had. No one would try to protect Rachel better than I would. Because…I loved her.

Her car door opened and shut, but I didn’t raise my head from my hands, my emotions and my thoughts a tangled mess. I felt her weight on the bench beside me and her smell of rightness enveloped me, making the ache in my chest open into a deep chasm. She tossed a pair of pants on my lap.

“How’d you find me?” I croaked, my voice hoarse and rusty. I tugged the pants on.

She didn’t answer but put her hand on my bare shoulder. I glanced up then away before straightening. Still, she did not speak, but put her other hand over my thudding heart.

“Because I feel you. We’re connected. No matter how many times I mess up, we always will be,” she said softly. I slumped in defeat. She would not appreciate the new connotations her connectedness to me would bring. She didn’t say anything else but wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight. I resisted for a few seconds, then let myself melt against her. I needed her. I needed this last bit of closeness before she found out who I really was, and everything went up in smoke.

“And because I love you,” she whispered. Something between a strangled laugh and a sob sounded from my throat.

“You can’t,” I croaked as Wolf jumped around inside at her admission and the rest of me wilted under the pressure created at the words I’d always longed to hear.

Struggling from her arms I raked my hands through my hair again, silently marveling at the conundrum in which I suddenly found myself. Rachel loved me. I loved her. And my parentage was going to crush it.

“I know you might not feel the same way, but why can’t I love you?” Rachel asked, one red eyebrow arched upward, hurt leaking into her voice. Air gusted between my teeth. Might as well rip off the band-aid all at once.

“I found out something yesterday that will change the way you see me.”

“I doubt it’s enough to make me stop feeling this way about you.”

A bitter laugh escaped. “Victor Atwood is my father.”

Dead silence. I couldn’t look at her, just stayed staring straight ahead at the water as the wind ruffled the surface into tiny wavelets.

“We can totally use this to our advantage.”

My eyes leaped to her face. “What?”

Her face was animated, her eyes alight with that glow that seemed to reach out and pull me in.

“You’re his son. You didn’t know about him, maybe he doesn’t know about you? I think that could give us an edge. The edge to get close to him without Victor calling the shots.”

“You’re crazy. Didn’t you just hear me tell you that the world’s most hated werewolf is my father?”

“Kyp.” Her voice softened as she reached up, hesitated, and cupped my face with one hand. “I don’t care who your dad is. It doesn’t change who you are. You are you. You’ve said that to me several times before. You are what you are, and it is what it is. So, your dad is a raging psychopath who wants to take over the world. That’s not who you are.”

My eyes filled with tears and I put the heels of my hands to them. I couldn’t understand this girl. How could she love me when I was finding it hard to love myself with this newest revelation?

“I mean, it sucks that you’re never going to have the relationship with your dad that Sam has with his and stuff but knowing who your dad is doesn’t actually change anything about you. Just your perception.”

With tears still making my vision blurry, I grabbed her face with both my hands and kissed her. Hard. I couldn’t help myself. I loved her. She loved me. Still.

Her validation set things loose inside me that tumbled around and righted themselves back properly. Knitting me together in a way that I’d longed for but had been unable to do on my own.

Wolf sat resolutely and nudged me. Mine. None of my insecurities mattered anymore. I would embrace my Alpha—for Rachel. I’d protect her—from my own father—until my dying breath. Heat filled me as Rachel’s arms skimmed my bare shoulders to my back, pulling me tighter, her lips soft but insistent against mine. Mate, Wolf nudged again. I acknowledged him with wonder, unable to wrap my brain around how it worked, but wanting it with every molecule of my dual natures.

I love you, I thought at her, unwilling to break away long enough to speak it. I knew she heard me when her kisses became more insistent and she pressed herself against me with not even enough room for air between us. Who moved first, I don’t know, but thirty seconds later she was on my lap and we were kissing in a way I knew we couldn’t keep up for long or my hands would be going places I’d feel guilty about later.

As if reading my thoughts—maybe she did—Rachel pulled back slightly, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling.

“Marry me when this is over,” she whispered.

I laughed, unrestrained and full of joy. “Isn’t the guy supposed to be the one that does the asking?” I said as I brushed a loose curl away from her face, my other hand still resting on my favorite curve where her waist met her hip.

“I heard your wolf. We agree,” she said primly and raised an eyebrow, daring me to contradict her. I kissed her again, slowly, softly.

“I’d like to ask you officially at some point—you know—when I have a ring and your parents have a chance to get used to the idea. But, yes.”

She giggled and hugged me tight around the neck. Wolf sat back in satisfaction, content that Rachel was going to be ours for keeps.

“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.

“I love you, too.”