Fated (Pyte/Sentinel 5) - Page 47

“Why don’t you come dance with me for a bit?” he suggested in that silky smooth voice that was really starting to annoy her.

Too exhausted to kick him in the nuts, and not really feeling like wasting another precious second dealing with him or his poor choice in cologne, she sighed heavily, raised her hand and waited for Mick to come to the rescue.

Before her hand was in the air, the obnoxious human was removed from her presence and her mate, looking incredibly pissed off for some reason, was standing there, glaring down at her through sexy silver eyes as he visibly had to force himself not to reach out and throttle her.

Too tired and nauseous to wonder what his problem was, she mumbled a, “thank you,” turned around and once again headed for the door that would take her to his loft, but she didn’t make it very far before she was assaulted with another wave of bad perfume, body odor and alcohol.

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she stumbled towards the exit sign, shoved the door open and staggered clumsily outside, and not a moment too soon. Before the large metal door managed to click shut, she was slapping her hand against the old brick wall for support as she leaned over and lost everything she’d eaten in the last day or so.

Since she wasn’t exactly in the mood to see what was coming up so that she could confirm her suspicions, she squeezed her eyes shut and continued to give in to her stomach’s reaction to the poor hygiene choices some of the club goers had made. It took a few minutes that she prayed that she would forget about one day with the help of therapy and a lot of denial, but her stomach finally settled down.

Keeping her eyes closed, because she really didn’t want to get another look at all the food she’d managed to eat in the last twenty-four hours, she pushed away from the wall, stepped back and realized too late that she probably shouldn’t have done that as her head began to spin and her body started to get that weird numbing feeling all over, the kind that happened just before you passed out.

Yeah, she was definitely about to pass out, she thought vaguely as she felt her legs give out. She thought about throwing her arms forward to stop herself from getting seriously hurt, but at that time it just seemed like too much effort so she just went with it as oblivion took over and sent her into a lovely world of darkness and pain, because she was pretty sure that she’d not only managed to hit her head on the way down, but that her generous derriere managed to land on what felt like a lovely array of broken glass.

That was definitely going to leave a mark, she thought numbly with a wince as she felt herself being picked up and-

Unceremoniously thrown over a very large, unfamiliar shoulder.

As she was jostled about and carried away, she took some satisfaction in losing the last ounce of food in her stomach on the bastard kidnapping her.

After she heard him mutter a few curse words that were oddly amusing to her for some reason, she allowed herself to pass out, take a quick nap, and recuperate so that when the time came, she would be fully rested and more than capable of kicking someone’s ass.

She just needed a little nap first and then she’d handle this.

Chapter 42

Drew pinched the bridge of his nose, still trying to figure out how this had gone so badly so damn quickly. One minute he’d been “explaining” to a human about what happens when you touch someone’s mate and the next he was wondering where Kara had gone.

It had only taken him a split second to find her scent and follow it to the back door. That’s when things became a little tricky. When he’d shoved that security door open he could honestly say that he hadn’t expected to find more than twenty Sentinels waiting for him in the back alley. Then again, he hadn’t expected to find his wife slung over one of their shoulders, passed out and snoring softly.

He’d seen a lot of weird shit in his life, but this…

This was definitely made his top three list of fucked up shit.

“You mind telling me why you’re here?” he asked the group of Sentinels in that bored drawl that he’d perfected over the years while he looked around as though he didn’t really care that the little bastards had targeted his Club and taken his mate.

They were a fucking annoyance, one that he had to put up with whether he liked it or not, and as the Alpha of the largest and oldest Pack in Boston, he definitely did not like having to deal with them. If anyone else had placed their hands on his mate he wouldn’t have hesitated in ripping their throats out by now, but they were Sentinels, which meant that he had to follow the rules or his Pack would suffer.

Not that he particularly gave a flying fuck if his Pack suffered right now, not when some prick had his mate. They could take every last one of his Pack on bullshit charges right now and he could honestly say for the first time in his life that he wouldn’t give a flying fuck. The only thing that mattered to him right now was getting his mate back safely in his arms.

“It doesn’t concern you, Drew,” the Sentinel holding Kara said as he gestured for the rest of them to clear out.

“The fact that you have my mate over your shoulder says differently,” Drew said, well aware that the rest of the Sentinels were leaving one by one as he kept his eyes locked on the one that held Kara.

“She’s ours,” the Sentinel said firmly as he leveled cold green eyes, that were oddly enough surrounded by laugh lines, on him in warning.

Keeping his eyes locked on the Sentinel who was out of his fucking mind if he actually thought that Drew was going to let him walk out of here with his mate, he raised his arm that bore their mating sign. “According to this, she’s mine.”

The Sentinel’s jaw clenched, once, twice and once again as he glared at Drew. “It’s a mistake.”

“No,” Drew said confidently, because if there was one thing in this world that he knew, it was that their mating wasn’t a mistake. He’d been put on this earth to take care of her and that’s exactly what he was going to do. “It isn’t. She’s my Mate, mine by destiny and,” he said, reaching up and yanking down the collar of his shirt to show his other mark, “by her choice.”

The Sentinel continued to glare at him, not looking particularly happy and definitely not looking as though he was going to put Kara down anytime soon. “I don’t fucking care,” the Sentinel finally said, earning a few muttered curses and eye rolls from the Sentinels that remained by his side.

Tags: R.L. Mathewson Pyte/Sentinel Fantasy
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