“Alpha…”
he begins again, voice pitched lower. He takes one step backward, creating deferential space between us, his body slightly bent forward in submission.
“The Alpha has organized a welcome banquet tonight. In your honor, High Alpha.”
The words emerge in a rush, like he can’t get them out fast enough. His eyes are now pointed toward the ground rather than meeting my gaze directly.
“A banquet.”
Such social pleasantries are the bane of my responsibilities as the Lycan King. The thought of listening to small talk and veiled attempts at gaining my political favor set my teeth on edge.
“Yes, sir. At the pack house. Eight o’clock.”
A waste of time, Fenris grumbles inside my head.
I glance toward the hospital across the street. I have no interest in attending, but it would be discourteous to refuse hospitality while residing in Fiddleback territory.
Pack protocol dictates certain formalities when one alpha enters another’s territory-doubly so for the High Alpha. Under normal circumstances, I would have contacted the Fiddleback Alpha immediately upon arrival, paid my respects, and maybe even presented a small token of appreciation for his hospitality. All details I usually have Jack-Eye attend to.
Instead, I stormed into his territory and brushed off his well-meaning, if irritating, scouts for daring to question my presence.
Not my most diplomatic moment, though diplomacy has never been a great strength of mine to begin with.
I glance again at the hospital. Grace is in there. Awake. Weak.
If we cause trouble with the local pack, it could make things harder for her, Fenris says, surprising me with his reasonableness.
I hate when he’s right.
“Fine. I’ll attend.”
Relief relaxes the young wolf’s features.
“Great! That’s great. The Alpha will be-“
“On one condition.”
His mouth snaps shut.
“My mate is in the hospital. I need updates on her condition.”
“I’m sure we can arrange-“
“Every five-no, ten minutes.”
Marsh blinks rapidly, processing the demand.
“Updates… every ten minutes? From the hospital?”
“Yes. And I need a way back in if she needs me.”
A loophole, Fenris grunts approvingly. Finally, you’re using your brain. I was starting to think you discarded it.
Marsh hesitates, clearly calculating how to fulfill this request.
“Of course, High Alpha.”
Lyre keeps pulling out her phone and frowning. At first, I thought it was her way of avoiding more conversation about my parents and my identity.
Turns out I was wrong. Lyre’s shameless enough to refuse to answer questions outright, without excuses. Remembering her past frustration over not being able to give me clear answers, I’m starting to wonder if maybe…
I don’t know. It’s weird.
Maybe she really can’t tell me some things. She’s said as much, so it isn’t too far-fetched of an idea, but it seems like there’s something keeping her from spilling everything she knows.
Lyre’s phone gives another annoying ding. She scoffs, glaring at the screen before shoving it into her pocket with more force than necessary.
“Something wrong?”
She waves a dismissive hand through the air.
“Your boyfriend’s headed out to greet the local alpha.”
“He’s not my-“
The denial sticks in my throat again, because… well. Then my mind catches up with the rest of her sentence.
“Wait, what?”
“Your Lycan King has deigned to socialize with the local pack. Progress, I suppose.”
My stomach drops. The image of Caine splattered with blood and surrounded by bodies flashes through my mind.
“Is he going to kill everyone here too?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how blunt-and ridiculous-they sound. But Lyre doesn’t seem offended. Instead, her catlike eyes narrow and she tilts her head back, looking at me as if I’m some strange specimen on display at a museum.
“What makes you think he’s going to kill anyone?”
“I mean…”
Sure, Caine hasn’t exactly been super murderous around me since then. Especially when things got steamy between us. But the memory of that night is going to be branded in my brain forever. The snarls. The screams. The wet, meaty sounds of violence I tried so hard not to hear.
My body yearns for him, and he might be my fated mate for some strange reason, but ultimately, he’s still… who he is. I’m still wrapping my head around the idea a killer can genuinely care for someone.
“He started massacred my pack.”
Wait. Now it sounds like he killed everyone.
“Some of them.”
“Hmm.”
Lyre stretches, yawning widely. Her slightly sharp teeth glint in the light.
“Tell me, what kind of person do you think the current king is?”
“Mass murderer.”
My answer comes without hesitation or thought. No consideration, no moment of reflection. It’s hard to shake first impressions, I guess.
She snorts, then coughs, patting at her chest as she clears her throat.
“Okay. And what does that make you? The girl who let a murderer into her pants?”
Prickling heat suffuses my cheeks. My shoulders slump as I groan,
“Shameless. I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell.”
Lyre’s peals of belly laughter fill the room.
“If there is a hell, we’re all headed there for one reason or another.”
She taps a finger against her lips as she snickers, de-escalating her amusement.
“Though I have to wonder-if you believe he’s a cold-blooded killer, why did you sleep with him?”
I open my mouth to respond, then close it. The simple, terrible truth is that there’s no good answer for me to give.
“I didn’t… think about it.”
My voice is tiny as I admit it.
“When he touches me, I can’t think at all.”
“Hmm.”
Lyre chuckles.
“My sympathy for the wolf is rising once again.”
“What do you mean?”
She shakes her head.
“He has a lot of work ahead of him, that’s all. And he doesn’t seem emotionally intelligent enough to navigate the maze in your head.”
I rub at the tip of my nose awkwardly, still overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment. Once I accepted her premise-Caine and I being fated-some of her earlier comments made a lot of sense, too. The ones about my intelligence level. Like when she asked about my grades in school.
At the time, I was oblivious. Maybe on purpose, refusing to see what was in front of my face. Now, I know exactly what she meant when she asked me that question. It’s enough to make a girl feel… you know. Stupid.
“Tell me something, Grace. Why did the Lycan King kill your pack?”
“I don’t know.”
Lyre’s slitted eyes narrow as she leans forward.
“Really? Do you really not know? Or are you just not wanting to think about it?”
My fingers twist in the thin hospital blanket.
“I-“
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.