He turned on his heel and left the room. They would fight this out later. Once his orders were implemented, she wouldn’t find herself in that kitchen cooking for the whole damned base again. He’d be damned if she would. She wasn’t the f**king cook. She was his mate. His coya. She could oversee until hell froze over, but it wasn’t her job to do the actual work.
He slammed his office door closed, stalked to his desk and sat down. He looked around the office. Dust was accumulating. Files were stacked here and there haphazardly. It hadn’t been like this when he’d arrived. His office had been immaculate. The scent of his mate had filled it.
He ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a hard, rough breath as Brim’s knock sounded at the door. He knew his second-in-command’s knock and the anger behind it.
“What?” he snarled out.
The door opened.
Military straight and perfect, Brim moved into the room. His gaze was icy, his manner stiff.
“What kind of stick has been shoved up your ass?” He bared his teeth at the other man.
Brim handed over an e-pad. “I need your signature.”
Del-Rey jerked the pad out of his hand, glanced at it, then felt a haze of red wash over him at the memo awaiting his approval.
Re: Official notification of reversion of duties from Anya Kobrin to Alpha Delgado. Status coya, revoked. Status mate, revoked. All due authority hereby revoked.
He stared up at the other man. “What the f**k is this?”
“By order of separation she only held her title if you didn’t rescind it.”
“I still haven’t rescinded it,” he informed Brim, his tone guttural. “What the f**k is this?”
“You should have read the separation agreement more fully perhaps,” Brim stated. “Anya posted the memo this morning to Lupina Gunnar and Prima Lyons as well as to their alphas. A decision that the mating ceremony tentatively scheduled for spring was being canceled. She lost her title when that memo went out. Word of it is already filtering through Base. She’s no longer coya and therefore your pack leaders need a directive from you.”
The memo was a directive all right. It rescinded all powers that Anya had previously held to command in his absence. It also directed her status to below those pack leaders, rather than above them as she had once held.
He stared at it.
“If she’s officially my coya, I paint a target on her back for any Coyote that has managed to fool us, or betrays us in the future. They’ll strike at her first.”
Brim shrugged. “That isn’t my call, Alpha. All I need is the order signed so Base runs properly. Military structure must be adhered to.”
Del-Rey’s jaw clenched.
Before Del-Rey could control the impulse, he picked up the e-pad and threw it. A vicious, savage swing of his arm, and it shattered against the stone wall to his side.
Brim stared at the destruction before turning his gaze back to Del-Rey. “A copy was sent to your PDA. You can sign it from there. If you’ll excuse me now.” He nodded to Del-Rey with all due military respect.
Perfect, smooth, coordinated.
Del-Rey was out of his chair before Brim could stride across the room. In the next second he had his second-in-command against the wall, his arm braced across Brim’s throat as a snarl echoed from his throat.
“What is your f**king problem?” He stared into Brim’s eyes and saw nothing but that cool, emotionless facade.
“I wasn’t aware I had one.” And he wasn’t fighting.
Brim wasn’t a man that allowed even his alpha to throw him against a wall. But there he was, relaxed, cool. Del-Rey felt as though a volcano was ready to explode inside his own head.
“Erase that f**king memo,” Del-Rey bit out.
He could imagine Anya’s pain if she saw it, once she read it. He could almost feel the loss he knew would burrow inside her.
“I can’t do that, Alpha,” Brim stated. “This is a military base, and the rules have to be adhered to; otherwise, our men are going to become confused and uncertain. They’ll choose sides. Her people against your people. We can’t allow that.”
Del-Rey released him slowly. “Delete that f**king memo or I’ll do it for you,” he commanded.