Addie (Pack of Misfits #1) - Raven Kennedy Page 0,28

At least, everywhere except in Pack Aberrant. I know all of this, and yet, his rejection still hurts.

“Alright, calm down,” Penn says, trying to reason with Herrick. “Mate-calls can be severed if—”

My eyes widen in shock. “Whoa, whoa,” I interrupt. “I know this is unexpected, but you’re jumping right to severing the bond?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. It hasn’t even been two hours since we had sex last, but they want to plan the very painful and emotionally distressing process of severing a mating bond? It’s not like I’m excited about this either, but I wouldn’t just automatically jump to severing it. If we do, there’s a very good chance our animals would never form another bond again.

Without another word, I turn and march out of the room, ignoring the curses and arguing behind me. I have no car, no idea where my shoes or my phone ended up, no underwear, and I’m wearing one of these jackasses’ clothes. I could kick myself right now for being so stupid.

I’m already out the door and down the driveway before Penn catches up to me. His jeans are unbuttoned and he’s pulling a shirt over his head as he approaches.

“Addie, wait up,” he says, grabbing my arm.

I yank out of his grasp, suppressing the partial shift that wants to erupt from his contact. “Don’t touch me.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Look, this is just really fucked up.”

“You think?”

Penn sighs and brushes back his blond hair from his face. “Let me take you home. I don’t want you walking.”

I don’t want to walk either, but I also don’t want to go anywhere with this asshole. “No.”

“Addie,” he starts to argue.

“I said no.”

He grits his teeth. “Fine. Then at least let me call someone for you.”

“I’ll call someone myself. Where’s my stuff?” I ask instead.

“I don’t know. I’ll have the guys look for it,” he offers, but I shake my head.

I don’t want anything from them, but I remember Hugo’s warning, so I swallow a spoonful of pride and hold my palm out for his phone. He digs in his pocket and passes it over to me. When I notice the time on the screen, I grimace. No way will anyone in my warehouse be up yet this early on a Saturday. I try Zoey anyway, but of course, it goes straight to voicemail. I know better than to call Aspen, because she’s a ridiculously hard sleeper. That girl could sleep through an earthquake.

Out of all my packmates in the single’s warehouses, theirs are the only numbers I know by heart. I wish I had my phone, because I bet I could get Stinger or one of the other enforcers at the gate, but who knows where my cell ended up after last night, and I’m not about to go back inside to go look for it. I debate for a minute, chewing on my lip, and then dial another number. He picks up on the first ring.

“Hugo,” he answers.

“Hey, it’s Addie.”

“Addie? What’s wrong?” His voice is instantly alert.

“Nothing, I just…I need a ride.”

“Gimme the address.”

I ask Penn and then rattle it off.

“I’ll be there in ten,” he promises.

We hang up, and I pass the phone back to Penn just as Lafe comes sauntering out with two coffee cups in hand. He holds one out to me, but I don’t take it. He shrugs and gives it to Penn instead.

“You called a guy,” Penn says, glowering at me.

I lift a brow at his tone. “Yep.”

“Was that the human you were with last night?” he asks, crossing his muscled arms and looking all kinds of pissed off.

“Wait, what?” Lafe asks, frowning. “Why would you call another guy?” I notice his knuckles are white as he clutches the handle of his coffee cup.

I look between them, surprised when I realize that they’re jealous. Because I’m petty and hurt, I just shrug and turn my back on them instead of dispelling their worries. The bond that’s forming between us is making their territorial and protective instincts kick into overdrive, which is even worse since they’re preds, naturally inclined to fierce possessiveness. But the sting of humiliating rejection is still fresh and I don’t have it in me to make them feel better.

Just remembering the way Herrick looked at me makes my stomach hurt all over again. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been openly mocked and scorned. I grew up feeling ashamed of who I was. I didn’t belong in my