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“Thank you. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this quickly. I want to get the fuck out of here and go home as soon as I can.”
Dean chuckles. “That’s how I feel every time I leave home. I’ve been told I don’t hide it well.” There’s no denying that. He doesn’t have the reputation as the angriest alpha around for no reason. “Good luck, Ethan. Let me know if you need anything else.”
When he hangs up, I throw my phone on the bed and stare at the ceiling. There’s no going back now. I’m just going to have to work faster than I planned so I can get back to Belle, and somehow avoid Lucia’s advances.
Hearing two sets of footsteps coming down the hall, I sit up. I don’t recognise the scents, having only met a few people from Lucia’s pack at previous meetings with her dad, but I can feel their energies. Both are strong wolves and neither one is radiating happiness.
Silently, I wait to see if they’ll continue past my door and inwardly groan when they slow down and stop right outside. There’s a hard knock and both men step back, waiting. They don’t call out a cheery greeting. This isn’t a welcoming committee.
“Gentleman,” I say, voice low, as I open the door. “Thanks for stopping by. It’s nice to meet some of Lucia’s pack.” I purposely step closer, keeping my body language relaxed and open; both retreat, uncomfortable in the face of my overly-friendly response to their obvious hostility. “Are you here to give me the tour?”
The bigger wolf, a man with a shaved head and bulging muscles, glances at the other before responding. A nasty scar runs across his scalp, making him look dangerous, but he’s not the real threat here.
“Hardly.” His tone is scathing, but his eyes flick to his smaller friend for approval of his smart comment. The shorter one is the leader then.
He smiles at me, but his pale grey eyes are cold and lifeless. This guy is dead inside and the aura coming off him is poisonous. If he were living in Grey Ridge, Cooper would have run him out of town. How does Lucia tolerate him within the walls of the packhouse?
“Then to what do I owe this pleasure?” Leaning against the doorframe, I cross my arms and focus on projecting my true power. My happy go lucky personality isn’t fake, but my wolf is more powerful than the usual beta. I’m not sure if I actually have alpha blood in my lineage, or if my wolf absorbed the Jones’ alpha traits by osmosis by living as one of them for so long. Either way, he’s no pushover. It’s best that these wolves know that from the outset to avoid any confusion.
“We don’t need you here.” The big guy sounds a little less certain now that he can feel how strong my wolf is.
“I never said you did. I’m here as a friend to Lucia, not to cause trouble.” Holding my hands up, I switch back to easy-going Ethan. The bigger guy visibly relaxes at the change in my mood while his friend narrows his eyes, looking like he’d rip out my neck if I hadn’t just shown him that he doesn’t stand a chance. This is a wolf I won’t ever be turning my back on.
“Then we’ll take you to her.” He points to himself and then his buddy. “Trent and George.”
“Nice to meet you gents.” I glance back at my phone, discarded on the bed, my fingers itching to collect it and check if Belle has sent me a message.
“Let’s go. Unless you have something better to do?”
I whip around to face Trent, carefully schooling my expression into one of crafted nonchalance. They both watch me closely as I step into the hall and close the door tightly behind me, gesturing for them to lead the way.
“I quit my job and left my pack. I have nowhere else to be.”
8
ETHAN
Making idle chit-chat as I’m led through the packhouse, I pretend to be oblivious to the unfriendly looks coming from almost every wolf we pass and the ominous atmosphere that seems to fill the air. Taking in every detail, from the newly redecorated common rooms to the fancy watches the two men escorting me are wearing, it’s clear to me this pack likes to spend money.
In Grey Ridge, the Jones’ manage the pack finances well; nobody wants for anything. Everyone is paid fairly for the work that they do, but by no means are they extravagant. Not like this. Excess money is used to support pack member’s businesses, to provide housing for families, and to ensure older wolves can retire comfortably. It’s not spent on flashy jewellery and making the packhouse look like it belongs in an interior design magazine.
Is this what Toby did while he was in charge? Empty the pack’s coffers to buy acceptance through the illusion of success?
We walk into a long dining hall and a hushed silence falls over the room. Every person turns to stare as I pause in the door and scan the room, a mixture of suspicion and fear in the eyes of most of them. These are the innocent pack members who want some peace and stability, who are rightly worried about any more upheaval in the pack.
But there are others who practically spew toxic vibes as I enter the room and cross to Lucia. They hate me on sight, worried my presence will upset whatever they’re up to. Without doing more than casually scanning the room as I walk between the tables, I catalogue their faces. These are Toby’s wolves. The ones who knew what he was doing, who helped him hide when he went on the run. These are the ones I need to watch.
“Sit here.” Lucia pats the chair beside her as she stands to give me a peck on the cheek. She smiles warmly and I give her my trademark lazy grin; reaching a hand across the table to grip mine, she doesn’t seem to notice that it’s fake. “It’s so good to have you here.”
Rather than lie and say I’m happy to be here, I change the subject.
“The packhouse is beautiful. It’s like a 5-star hotel.” As if it’s a compliment, Lucia nods, proud of her gorgeous home. Twisting in my chair, I pull my hand free of hers and hope it wasn’t too obvious. It takes every bit of concentration I have not to wipe my palm on my napkin.
“Toby thought it looked dated, not impressive enough for when we needed to host other packs.” She shrugs, distracted when a server arrives at the table. As she places an order for wine, I watch how she interacts with the young girl. She calls her by name, touches her arm in a friendly gesture as she asks after her mother and grandmother. Lucia’s manners are impeccable, every inch the alpha’s daughter, as she thanks the girl and lets her leave.
And, yet, the teenager’s anxiety is palpable.
“Is she new?” I nod in the direction she hurried off to and it takes a second for Lucia to understand my question.
