When He's an Alpha (The Olympus Pride, #2)

by Suzanne Wright

Aspen threw Bailey a dirty look. “Your mamba is such a bitch. I’m surprised I don’t have any cracked ribs.” Bailey sniffed, rubbing her head. “I’m equally surprised I don’t have a cracked skull. Your bearcat is so damn moody.” “And yet, your snake constantly taunts her. Explain.” “You want, like, a rational explanation?” “That would be good. Am I going to get one?” “Depends what your personal definition of ‘rational’ is.”

“It was the bond I was reluctant to accept, not you. Never you. Once I realized that you’re mine, my hang ups just lost their power. Because I would rather have you and take the chance that it could all go wrong than give you up again—I don’t have it in me to do it a second time.”

“I would have taken the chance.” If for no other reason than that she’d have always wondered what could have been if she hadn’t. His inky blue eyes warmed. “Yeah?” She gave a slow nod. “Yeah.” “Even knowing we could have crashed and burned?” “You and your cat are worth the risk.”

“And I have to say I’m disappointed in you, Damian. Despite all the dark, destructive powers you possess, you never did anything to avenge Tate. Never put a hex on her. Never turned her into a toad. Never even gave her stomach poisoning. What kind of Antichrist are you?” “One that exists only in your totally whacked head,” Damian retorted. Elle scowled. “Don’t you try gaslighting me. And don’t call me whacked.” “Don’t call me the Antichrist.” “Do you prefer Beelzebub? Lucifer? Abaddon?”

“Actually, I will,” said Havana. “You might be mostly insane, but you’re endlessly entertaining.” Grinning, the mamba elbowed Aspen. “You hear that? Endlessly entertaining.” “She also called you insane,” the bearcat pointed out. “Mostly insane.” “Yeah, I left out the ‘mostly,’ because you and I both know you’re fucking certifiable.”