Without Regret (Pyte/Sentinel #2)(49)
Author: R.L. Mathewson

Unfortunately the wife he got was weak and a slut, something he would never allow himself to have. He knew damn well that she hadn’t been excited for any man, but she’d f**ked them anyway. It made him wonder what exactly she gained by doing it. He couldn’t help but wonder why she did it. Did she use the men?

Need something? Or just enjoyed toying with a man?

None of it should matter to him since she was leaving in a matter of hours, but it did. He wanted to know why his mate had given herself to another man even though she hadn’t wanted him. It would probably send him into a killing rage when he heard the truth, but maybe that would be for the best. It would help him hate her so that when she was gone he’d be able to shove away the affect she had on his body that much quicker and focus back on his work.

“I’ll answer your questions, but then you’ll answer a few of mine,” he said as he came back to the bedroom door and leaned back against it.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, buddy. Seems to me that you got all the answers you’re going to get out of me with little stunt with the rope,” she said, glaring at him as she crossed her arms over her rather large chest and drawing his attention. When he felt his body harden he forced himself to look back at her face.

The morning erections he’d gotten since he was a kid never felt like this. He’d barely noticed them and if he touched it or if something rubbed against it, it didn’t register in his mind. But he noticed it now. It was both heaven and hell.

He felt his balls tighten as his dick filled and hardened in his pants as it craved a touch. Since the moment he met her he fought against the urge to pull it out and run his hand over it. Not even twenty minutes ago when he stripped to take a quick shower he’d almost lost that battle, several times. Only the knowledge that it would make it worse since Sentinels could not bring themselves to release stopped him. When the battle became more than he could take he’d taken his first cold shower in years.

She really needed to go before he started acting like his brother had when he hit puberty. If he found himself stealing their grandmother’s National Geographic and locking himself away in the guest bathroom he’d have to shoot himself. It was all her damn fault and as soon as she left he’d be able to stop torturing himself by wondering how exactly it would feel to have her suck his dick or sink into her instead of planning the next night’s patrol.

Even now as he forced himself to meet her eyes he couldn’t fight the urge to touch her again. This was f**king bullshit. He didn’t know this woman, didn’t like her, but he wanted her more than his next breath. If it hadn’t been for his damn curiosity and this f**ked up need to see her, be with her, he would have left this bullshit job of watching over her and further questioning her to his father, who was currently one pissed off Pyte.

The last he’d seen of his father he’d been downstairs in the basement growling viciously while he pumped iron.

When his father came storming downstairs and shoved him aside so he could punch the head off the training dummy, sending the rubber head flying and embedding it into the wall he’d been reluctant to accept his father’s offer to spar.

“Is this your way of telling me that I’ll have to hang you upside down before you answer my questions?” he mused, not even bothering to hide his shit eating grin as her mouth dropped open and her green eyes practically budged out of her head.

She cleared her throat. “Um, what exactly did you want to know?” she asked pleasantly and he damn near groaned. Seriously? That’s how easy it was to break her? Threaten her with a little discomfort and she’d spill anything.

Yeah, it was definitely a good thing that she was leaving, he thought with disgust. God only knows what she’d spill if a Master got his hands on her. The thought gave him pause.

Shit!

She knew about Madison being pregnant. It wouldn’t be difficult for a Master to put two and two together and figure out that there were three Pyte children to be had. There was no f**king way he was going to allow her to go to a Sentinel compound now. With his luck she’d start asking questions and word would get out and they’d have more than just a f**king war to worry about. His family would have to go into hiding and that wouldn’t exactly be the easiest thing with three Pytes needing bagged blood.

No, the only thing to ensure their safety would be to send her straight to one of the islands. He couldn’t risk having her opening her mouth and saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. Why the f**k had Eric brought her here?

He rubbed his hands down his face as he resigned himself to giving his mate an existence that he knew damn well she would hate, but had little choice. He knew she would probably end up there anyway, but knowing there was absolutely no choice in the matter and no hope of release had his stomach twisting, but it was for the best.

For his family.

“I’ll answer your question first,” he said, deciding that he’d only answer the questions that didn’t give her more information about his family.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “So what the hell is a Sentinel and why do you think that I’m one?”

“You know that crescent moon and cross mark beneath your navel?”

“Yes?”

“You were born on November 25th and had a twin that probably didn’t make it?” She nodded reluctantly.

“That makes you a Sentinel.”

“Because of a mark, a date and a brother who died during the delivery?” she asked incredulously.

“Yes, that and the vampire that drank your blood went up in smoke,” he said, noting the way her face seemed to pale at that little reminder.

“What is a Sentinel?” she asked in a harsh whisper as she clenched her hands tightly in her lap.

“A Sentinel is a warrior or a guardian of sorts, however you’d like to look at it. It’s our job to ensure that humans never know the real world they live in and to keep vampires, demons and shifters in line. Every ten years ten Sentinels are born on November 25th, five boys and five girls forming five pairs of destined mates,”

he said, watching her reaction and not too surprised as her eyes narrowed on him.

“That’s why you think I’m yours then?”

“Well, if the other four hadn’t already found each other then you could have belonged to any of the other men, but the fact that our marks turned red when we touched is sign that we are mates.”

“But I don’t want you,” she said bluntly.