When He's Sinful (The Olympus Pride 3)

Her mouth dry, Aspen licked her lips. “Well Chase was wrong.” The words came out on a croak. Her bearcat remained still and quiet, no doubt equally as hesitant to let herself “hope.”

“Ignoring how you feel isn’t going to help,” Havana warned, her voice gentle. “It won’t make the feelings go away.”

Maybe not. But Aspen was good at ignoring how much she craved him—she’d been doing it for years. It seemed the only way to keep him in her life.

Aspen took some comfort in the fact that he’d always care for her; that she’d always be important to him. That would have to be enough. Sex wasn’t worth risking their friendship for.

The door swung open. Corbin stood there, eyeing them all suspiciously. “What are you three doing in here?”

“Plotting global domination,” said Bailey.

“If you were anyone else, I’d think you were joking.” He looked at Aspen. “Four tiger shifters showed up here looking for Camden. He’s outside with them now.”

Aspen tensed. “From his childhood pride?”

“Yes,” replied Corbin. “I don’t know who the female is. Two of the males seem like enforcers. The third guy is Camden’s uncle.”

Son of a motherfucker.

Staring at his ex-pride mates, Camden knew he should feel something. He hadn’t seen them since he was a child—a child they’d washed their hands of. None had any time for him when his world went to hell. None protested when his paternal grandparents left the pride with him shortly after his parents’ death, despite the dangers of the lone shifter lifestyle.

Merely looking at them brought back memories he’d rather not revisit. And yet, he felt nothing. Not betrayal. Not hurt. Not even mild irritation.

His tiger, on the other hand, was infuriated. Not simply because these shifters had sought Camden out, but because they’d come to the center—one of his safe places. And, in doing so, they were currently too close to Aspen for the cat’s liking.

Awkwardness prickled the air as they stared at him. He recognized all except for the male who stood just behind the woman, his hand on her shoulder—it was clear they were mated. She looked at Camden with tears in her eyes. Not that she’d ever cared for him. No, but she’d cared for the man who fathered him.

“Well,” Camden began, coldly calm, “what do you want?”

His uncle winced, struggling to look him in the eye—unusual for an Alpha, but shame clung to him. “It’s been a long time.”

True. Camden hadn’t seen him since Sheridan came looking for him after receiving word of his grandparents’ death. By then, Camden was settled at Corbin’s home and utterly attached to Aspen. He’d refused to leave but hadn’t explained why to Sheridan, not trusting that Camden’s need of her wouldn’t be used against him. It was reflexive, since his mother had made a point of breaking anything that mattered to him.

Sheridan hadn’t pressed the issue, visibly relieved. He’d known Camden was damaged and hadn’t wanted to take that shit on. But now, going by the shame wafting from him, it would seem that Sheridan felt guilty for giving up on him. He shouldn’t. If Sheridan had separated him from Aspen, God only knew what sort of person Camden would be.

The female, Judith, licked her lips. “D-do you remember me?”

“Hard to forget the woman my mother hated with every fiber of her being.” Esme’s capacity for hate had been bottomless, especially when it came to his father’s childhood sweetheart—a female he probably would have imprinted on if she hadn’t briefly gone traveling. It was during that time that Dirk met Esme, his true mate.

“I tried to reassure her that your father and I were only friends,” said Judith.

Yes, but Judith’s “reassurances” had been terribly patronizing. They’d only served to further enrage Esme, who’d been an insecure, paranoid, jealous woman. It hadn’t helped matters that, as the pride’s liaisons, Dirk and Judith worked closely together.

“She wouldn’t listen,” Judith added. “She’d convinced herself that he wished he could have me back.”

Esme had convinced herself of many things—that he regretted claiming her, that he still loved the other woman, that he pictured Judith when he bedded Esme. Dirk was petty enough to get off on his mate’s jealousy. He’d lapped it up. Played up to it. Laughed instead of reassured her. And all that had eaten at her over time.

Some people believed that the foul emotions swirling within Esme had twisted and consumed her. Others said there was always a little madness in her; that her turbulent relationship with Dirk had drawn that madness out. Whatever the case, in a cruel attempt to punish him, she’d tried to kill the baby she wholeheartedly believed he wished Judith had borne.

“Esme seemed to feel he was sort of … emotionally cheating on her with me, I suppose,” Judith went on. “That wasn’t the case.”

Maybe not, but she’d liked that Esme believed differently. She’d gotten off on the power she had over the woman who’d “stolen” her childhood sweetheart from her. Like Dirk, she’d played up to it. All of which was old news so, unsure why they were taking a walk down memory lane, Camden gave a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t see that it matters now.”