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As expected, Zaire and Nazra had been furious that they weren’t given the chance to be involved after Raya and Lori were kidnapped—something they’d expressed to Tate and Havana by phone. The Olympus Alphas had given the pair some spiel about how it had been necessary to move quickly and that they hadn’t been so sure Nazra and Zaire would care all that much about two unranked members anyway. The Crimson Alphas eventually dropped it.
Zaire had apparently quizzed Raya later, though, wanting every detail. Isaiah had not been happy on hearing that the male black-foot made a point of asking if Quinley was okay and if she’d been touched by the pack at all. Just the same, his cat didn’t like that the Alpha still showed an interest in Quinley.
Neither Raya nor Lori had informed him of what happened to her, claiming ignorance and suggesting he contact Tate if he had questions.
Zaire hadn’t.
Nor had he returned to the cul-de-sac or showed at any of the pride’s stores, which was good. Considering the Crimson Alpha pair were still together, they were presumably working on their issues. Isaiah couldn’t give a shit so long as they kept their distance from his mate.
“How cute is that?” said Quinley, gesturing at his parents, who were dancing all slow and graceful despite that the song playing was upbeat. “They’re so adorable.”
Isaiah squeezed her hip. “Just so you know, I’m not good at slow dancing.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“What?”
“You’re just so amazing at everything that I was beginning to get a complex. It’s good to know there’s at least one thing you’re not great at.”
“Glad it pleases you,” he deadpanned.
Quinley couldn’t help but chuckle. She wasn’t joking, though. He was just so competent and capable it was kind of intimidating.
Two enforcers materialized and were quick to congratulate them on fully imprinting. It had happened several times throughout the night. She didn’t bother playing down just how delighted she was.
Catching something in her peripheral vision, she looked to see Elle huddled in a corner. As Isaiah and the enforcers fell into conversation, she detached herself from him—laughing at his frown of complaint—and crossed to the redhead. “Are you… are you hiding?”
“No,” Elle denied, folding her arms.
“Oh. Okay.”
The redhead exhaled heavily, clearly annoyed. “You’re not being pushy.”
Quinley stifled a smile. “Elle, you’re definitely hiding. Tell me why.”
“All right, all right—don’t get hysterical. I’m avoiding Joaquin. I mean, not completely. Just taking breaks here and there.”
Ah. “It can’t be nice that he expects you two to carry on like you never crossed the friends line.”
“That’s exactly it,” said Elle. “We promised we wouldn’t let the fling ruin our friendship—I’m all for that. But I don’t know how to act like it never happened. Especially when I want things he doesn’t.”
“Have you suggested maybe having a little space?”
“No, because it’d be like passive-aggressively striking out at him for what he doesn’t feel for me.”
Quinley hadn’t thought of it that way before. “Ah, yeah, I get that. It wouldn’t be unreasonable of you to want a little distance, though. I mean, it’s not like he doesn’t know that you want more. He’s expecting you to both go on as if that’s not the case. Life isn’t that simple.”
Elle smiled. “I like having you around, Quinley. You have this thing where you say stuff that’s very validating.”
“I’m here for you.” Quinley hugged her tight, sensing she needed it.
Elle growled. “Goddamn submissives.”
This time, Quinley didn’t fight her smile, knowing the redhead secretly lapped up the comfort. “Suck it up and deal.”
“Fine. But I’m allowing this under protest.”
“Noted.”
