Rejected But Claimed By Her Four Alphas

a

d head almost as much as the harsh illumination does. I stare down at Doctor Patil’s shiny

ils for signs of concussion. He declared me safe from brain damage, but he

e spot, and I hiss through my teeth, gri

atil asks, pressing the nod

n the impulse to yank my leg out of

us look crossed his face when he saw the scars on my arms. And again when he lifted my shirt to press on my stomach

g away from me a little, he dips his head to catch my gaze, his words meas

nto his Wranglers, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He has the darkly tanned skin of a man who’s spent his life beneath the Montana sun—and that particular planetary body

ead, dark eyes promising retribution

an all-too-familiar heaviness settlin

my throat. “Down the stairs. Carr

up at me. He has startling gray eyes that seem to be at odds with his da

f knotted white skin tells a story that my uncle doesn’t want told. After years of visits, years of injuries and bruises and strange ailments, Doctor Jones only s

e injury. Only the bad ones, the ones that clearly need extr

or us both, Doctor

me excuse I’ve used for years. “My balance is awful. Uncle

nd my last statement, but I’m absolutely ce

ivels on his stool. “Mr. Maddock? Coul

ossed over his barrel chest. “No, sir. You ain’t our usual doct

be a moron to not hear the syrup

Right. More lik

’s brutish warning. “You understand that at eighteen years old, she’s a grow

remove him from the room so we can really chat. His clipped Indian accent and his deep, melodious vo

l Uncle Clint to leave so that I can confide in

cted. I’m sure Doctor Patil can hear that too. Clint and I are putting on a soap opera,

is lips as he looks at me, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that’s missing key p

peaks slowly, as if willing

searing my face, and my stomach

forcing levity into my tone. I want to signal to this man—this good man—that I need help. I w

ll what will happen to me

ace. “Other than the bump

that he’ll give up. The harder he fights to get the truth out of me, the worse it will be for me l

e me.

octor Patil stands to take them from her. Uncle Clint keeps his glare on me as the doctor str

the arm, and they’re all just right there on display. A bunch of shades of gray that mak

arder? More crooked

ands into the deep pockets of his coat. “No broken bones after all. I’

ther broken bone. Not that sprained wrists hurt any less, but the downtime for fracture

ctions to give it a rest for the next few weeks. He tells me to rest

that

nything to save me from a situation he knows in his gut is

ison as I walk away from Doctor Patil’s kind, concerned gaze. I’ll al

He grips the keys to his Silverado as if they’re a weapon and anyone who stands in his way might get a ke

eathing in the scent of pine and distant snow. The hospital Clint took me to is a good twenty miles away from our small town, but no matter where I go, I can always smell the mounta

ime I manage to haul myself into the passenger seat. My limbs are ready to give in, my body ready to crumpl

country blares from the speakers, and Uncle Clint turns the

m him and tucking myself against the passenger side

nutes accounting for stop signs and wildlife. Neither of us speak, but I can’t get Doctor Patil’s knowing gray eyes out of my h

ve ended this nightmare. Instead, I’m barreling

s prick

feeling so fu

uncle suddenly slams on the brakes. The truck’s tires lock up as it skids to a stop, the li

him just beyond my door. He’s massive, all muscle and antlers, more regal than anything I

and bolts off

slamming a hand to the steering wheel. “These

ng through me, and I press closer to the doo

I don’t hear him. Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I watch the

you give me and S

ed to

nd I didn’t even take the cha

How many more chances will I

my life look like when

me too much, and he’s too fucking sadistic

in his hou

hing standing between me a

ver me, making all the blood in my

door and take my chance, s