Chapter 8

Finlay

He didn’t have an expansive amount of experience dealing with relationships. Before his pack’s demise, he’d been young and ‘dating’ was a loose term.

As an adult, he’d paired with one of the females that had come with him from Scotland off and on for a few years. Eisla was around his age. Trustworthy. Loyal.

And she had no interest in Finlay outside of fulfilling her physical needs now and again until such a time that her fated mate could take over the task. This had made their arrangement pleasantly uncomplicated.

Not much need for talking about feelings or honing his communication skills.

Having Reyna this close was a double-edged sword; it felt good but there was a definitive hint of doom lingering above them.

He had his own reservations about accepting his mate, yet imagining truly rejecting her, or being rejected in turn, was… painful.

Surprisingly so.

Even knowing it was coming didn’t dull the ache slowly growing sharper with every moment that passed between them.

Finlay watched a series of expressions pass over her features. Her mouth opened once, twice. She finally sighed.

“I don’t know what to say.”

This whole thing was becoming a headache. He shrugged.

“What is there to say? You’re engaged.”

Hearing it out loud seemed to startle her. The corners of her mouth turned down into a deep frown. She was pretty even with frustration pouring off her in waves.

“Zack and I… that’s complicated. This whole thing is complicated.”

Finlay was sensing that. And he was also sensing that he wouldn’t be able to walk this line for very long.

Having her but not having her would eventually drive him mad.

His wolf didn’t want to hear about Reyna’s fiance. The mention of it made Finlay’s skin prickle with irritation.

“Seems simple enough. You’re engaged to another man and I have no room in my life for a mate.”

Reyna’s brows furrowed. “And you’re okay with that? With just… walking away?”

“Is there another solution?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if she was prepared to call off the wedding. But that begged the larger question of if he could get over his own… issues.

Finlay knew both answers would be disappointing.

“I don’t know,” Reyna said, looking over the railing. “But I know this is more… intense than I imagined it would be. Will distance help?”

“I’m not sure.”

The wind kicked up, whipping a chunk of her hair loose and into her face. She batted it away.

Reyna did that thing again — opening her mouth and closing it, warring over what to say, or how to say it, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

It was an endearing look. A slight pout to her lips. The tiniest wrinkle of her nose.

The diamonds at her ears and on the clasps holding the shoulder of her dress together glittered in the low light of the terrace.

It drew his eyes downward, to the bare expanse of tanned skin left exposed by the open sleeves and plunging neckline - skin that was flushed in gooseflesh.

“Are you cold?”

Reyna blinked at him, caught off guard. She glanced down at her arms and folded them. “It is a little chilly.”

He slipped out of his suit jacket and proffered it to her dangling on one finger. Getting any closer, he felt, was ill-advised. That handshake was burned into the back of his brain, set and ready to torture him for the rest of his existence.

Yes. Avoidance was key.

“Will you be all right without –”

“ - Aye.”

The jacket swallowed her whole when she finally pulled it on. “Thank you. By the way, what accent is that? It’s familiar but I can’t seem to place it.”

“I’m from Scotland, originally. Came over when I was sixteen.”

Her eyes blew wide and she scooted closer along the railing. “Scotland? Oh, I bet it’s beautiful! What’s it like? Why’d you leave? Is your family still there?”

Finlay watched her, simultaneously amused and slightly overwhelmed. People didn’t normally approach him so readily. With the exception of Evander and Eisla, even his own pack treated him with a certain level of distance.

They weren’t unfriendly by any means, and his relationship with each member was level, but there was still a divider between him and most of the lower members of the pack. More of a boss/employee kinship than friends.

Much of the personal information he got about his pack members came from necessity - when something was going on that needed addressing - or from Evander and Eisla, who were less dominant than he and, as a result, less intimidating.

Reyna did not appear intimidated in the least. A good thing, he thought, if this was singular to him. Was she so open all the time? So trusting?

Montana was not Scotland, but there were snakes here just the same. Alphas and wolves that had ill intentions for packs they saw as competition.

Her fiancée was a glaring example. Finlay knew little about Reyna but he could get a good sense of her here, standing so close and without distraction. She had a kind air about her. Compassionate.

What Finlay could sense of her wolf was similar; warm and steadfast. Loyal. Reyna’s scent was a balm to his own ornery, restless beast; fresh air and rushing water, like the freedom and purity of the forest he loved so much.

He imagined fate spun it that way. Took the things that calmed him and made him feel at ease and worked them into this bond they shared - something only the two of them could scent or feel.

It was hard to imagine someone like her accepting a proposal from Zack Cartier. Finlay knew he was missing a fair chunk of context yet it still seemed… odd.

That, or he was blinded by the bond and she wasn’t how she appeared to him.

Either way, he wouldn’t be discussing the details of his family and pack with her.

“My family is dead,” he admitted resolutely. “And my pack is here.”

She sensed the wobbling of his mood, he thought. The frown reappeared. “I’m sorry, I —”

“Didn’t know, aye. Now you do.”

He needed to get this over with. Get himself away from here. His wolf wanted her; wanted to solidify the bond and end this limbo.

But no matter how the idea appealed to him in some ways, it remained impossible in others. Prolonging it, leaving it up in the air, was only going to make things more difficult.

He’d been struggling to balance his wolf for thirteen years. Battling it over accepting this woman as his mate was an extra pain he didn’t need.

Finlay straightened from his lean.

“You wanted to discuss the direction of this moving forward. I think it’s fairly obvious there is no direction. Go back to your fiance, Ms. Navarro. I’ll get back to my business and be on my way. Let that be the end of it.”

The words lingered between them; him blinking at her, still unable to tear his eyes away; her blinking at him, suffering from the same.

Her frustration made the air taste acidic. “So that’s it, then?”

“That’s it.”

Reyna shook her head and her lip curled a little over her teeth. Before she could respond, two of Zack’s men, obvious both by their expensive attire and their scent, stepped onto the terrace.

A woman stepped out just after them, breathless and scowling. Her royal blue dress lit up like a disco ball in the flickering lights.

“Ms. Navarro,” the first man said. “Mr. Cartier asks that you rejoin him.”

The woman was looking at Reyna. “Sorry,” she blurted, motioning at the two men. “Tried to stop them.”

“It’s all right, Sam.” To Zack’s men, Reyna said, “I’m coming.”

When she turned back to him, he couldn’t quite read her expression. He could still taste her frustration, but there was something else in there, coloring her mood. Anger, maybe. Disappointment.

“It was nice to meet you,” she said, miserably earnest.

He stopped her as she moved to slip off his jacket. “Keep it. I’ve no more need of it.”

Reyna removed it anyway and tossed it to him. “Thanks, but I doubt my fiancée will want to smell another male all over me. Goodnight, Mr. Shaw.”

It was for the best, he reminded himself.

That was a hard pill to swallow, though, watching her walk away. The men led her ahead of them and disappeared into the crowded lounge, leaving Finlay alone with the woman - Sam, Reyna had said.

Sam was taller than Reyna, blonde, and the moment Reyna and her escorts were no longer in sight, she turned her blue eyes on him.

“Who’re you?”

He raised a brow. “Alpha of the –”

“ - I don’t care about all that. I’m too low in the pack for it to matter. I mean who are you to her?”

“An acquaintance. No different than the others in there with her now.”

Sam tsked with her tongue and shook her head, meandering a little closer. She folded her arms against the cold breeze.

“No, see, I know Reyna. She wasn’t very happy just now. Acquaintances tend not to have that sort of power over her. We work in healthcare. Requires thick skin.”

There was a brief moment of quiet as he sized her up and she did the same. Mouthy, this one.

Unlike other Alphas, he wasn’t often threatened by verbal sparring. Some, he knew, could barely take simple criticism without losing their temper.

Finlay was raised in a family of dominant wolves and siblings that cared little for what might prick his wolf’s ire. He’d learned long ago not to be so bearish. Recent years had been difficult for him control-wise.

Still, words from a less-dominant wolf weren’t enough to send his wolf into a tantrum.

Thankfully.

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like me.”

Sam snorted. “She doesn’t usually seek out people she doesn’t like. I covered for her inside and she made a beeline out here… to you. Doubt it was for your riveting banter.”

“Hmm.” Finlay shrugged. “You have a bit of a mystery on your hands. I’ll leave you to it.”

She didn’t step toward him or make to block his way, because that would have been infinitely stupid and they both knew it. He brushed passed her and towards the door. That didn’t stop her from continuing the conversation.

“For someone as familiar with her as I am, the pieces have already fallen together, thanks. I’m more curious about why you two are still here. Why not bail? Just take her and go?”

Finlay stopped but didn’t turn back to face her. “Certainly you haven’t forgotten that she’s about to get married.”

“No, but if you’d –”

“ - And as I told her, I don’t have room for a mate in my life. I don’t live like Zack Cartier or even Daniel Navarro. We’re too different. Even if she wasn’t engaged, it wouldn’t work.”

“Fate obviously didn’t think you were ‘too different’ when it –”

“ - I’ve made my decision.”

“But if you’d just –”

“ - Have a nice evening, Sam.”

She said something else but the words got caught in the wind and, honestly, he was thankful for it. It was hard enough to keep himself in line without other people trying to wear him down.

Finlay skirted around the dining tables with the intention of returning to Evander, still seated at the bar, chatting amiably with a pair of wolves. They should leave now. He should leave now.

Reyna was back on the dance floor, chest to chest with a smiling, cheerful-looking Zack.

He stopped and leaned against the bar, just short of where Evander waited. He didn’t need a witness to his masochistic predilections.

As they moved, Finlay could just glimpse her face. Sam was quite right. She didn’t look very happy. It pained him to think he was the cause. And yet… what was he to do?

She, herself, seemed conflicted about their bond. Giving in to it was out of the question. Still, he supposed he might have handled it better. Why couldn’t they part on amicable terms?

Sighing, Finlay began pushing his way through the crowd and to the happy couple. It was decided, then.

He’d ask her to dance, apologize, and then leave.