I turned to look at Landry and Wade for their support but they avoided eye contact, staring at the dead wolf instead.
Gibson glanced at Wade, then pointed at him. “I sent you to Granger to resolve this problem three weeks ago. I understand she’s your mate, but obviously you lost sight of the objective here.”
A windstorm whipped up inside my head.
He sent Wade to Granger?
That meant… Wade hadn’t met me by accident at the bar that night. He’d been there to resolve a problem: me.
“Now, hold on.” Wade held up a hand. “I haven’t lost sight. We’ve been keeping tabs on the research and the paper.” His tone was angry, as if he was defending me, but he was guilty of doing just as Gibson had said.
My brain stuttered. Oh god.
“Keeping tabs on my research?” I echoed, stumbling back. What the actual fuck? “Here I thought we were falling in love but instead you were handling me. Dealing with a problem. Keeping tabs on it. Like Tab A in Slot B?”
I lashed out, hurt. Turning what we’d done together to be tawdry and dirty. Well, they’d made it that way.
“Sugar—” Wade stretched a cautionary hand to me.
“Don’t.” I shook my head and stepped further away.
“This has gone way too far,” Gibson added, but he was addressing Landry, not me. “You get that research project shut down immediately, and the trackers out of the remaining wolves. No more tagging. Definitely no publication.”
My stomach twisted into a tight knot. They couldn’t shut down my research. It wasn’t up to Gibson or Landry or anyone in West Springs whether I published or not. Had that been their whole purpose in seducing me? To put an end to my work? Or to sabotage it?
I drew myself up, which took a lot, considering I was wearing nothing but a blanket and was staring down four very large men. Ben hadn’t said a word. He didn’t have to. The way he was looking at me, full of disdain, said everything.
“Now, you listen to me—I had nothing to do with those wolves being shot. I’m as horrified as you are, but it has nothing to do with my research. You don’t get to decide how or when or what I publish.”
Gibson and Ben scowled. Wade and Landry looked regretful, but neither of them said a word in my defense. Neither one had my back right now. They were choosing the pack over me.
That was the part that gutted me. I glared at them. “My research would never harm wolves, and if you believe I could do such a thing, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Caitlyn…” Landry said, stepping toward me.
“No.” I held up a hand to keep him back. “Tell me something—was the story about me being your mate even true, or was that just a ploy to halt my research?”
“You’re our mate,” Landry growled, coming toward me again. The look in his gaze changed. So did the color. Still…
Remembering what Shelby said about me actually being in control, I snapped, “Stay back.”
Landry halted.
Well, at least that much was true.
I licked my lips, glanced between Landry and Wade. “We’re done.” The moment I said the words, I felt my heart rip out of my chest.
Not just mine.
Landry turned pale. Wade shook his head, coming toward me.
Three broken hearts.
I believed that much about my supposed mates. Their pain appeared as genuine and gutting as mine. But it changed nothing. They didn’t believe in me or my research. They’d hidden their true agenda from me, which had been to take me offline. I could never forgive them for that.
I turned and marched into the house, letting the screen door bang behind me. Fueled by righteous anger, I went to the bedroom, threw the blanket off, and pulled on my clothes.
I heard the sound of Gibson’s truck start up and drive away, the screen door open, and the heavy footsteps of my mates coming into the cabin.
With shaky hands, I shoved my laptop, power cord, and research notes in my backpack, then did a quick scan of the place to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind. I could do without the awkward exchange of personal items post-breakup.
“Caitlyn,” Landry said as I swept out of the bedroom and through the living room, giving them lots of space.
“We’re done,” I repeated, avoiding their eyes. “I have nothing to say, nor do I want to hear anything from you.” I couldn’t bear to look at them because the pain in my chest was too great. My body ached from their eager and thorough attentions, a reminder of what they’d done that would linger after I left. I marched up to Wade and held my palm out. “Keys.”
He pulled them from his pocket but held them above my open palm, not releasing them. “Listen, can we just talk?” he asked. “It wasn’t like what Gib said. Let me explain. Please, sugar.”