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This is ridiculous. You are an alpha. Get yourself the fuck together.
“We just moved in last week,” I repeat a little more cohesively.
Those hazel eyes study me, like she’s looking for weakness. “Did you?”
“Yep,” I say, keeping my words short so I don’t fuck them up.
“And how did this wolf escape?”
“Hole in the fence.”
“The department didn’t check your fences before you were allowed to open?”
“They did,” I say with all the possible arrogance I can muster. “Must have missed a spot.”
She glances at the paperwork, then up at me. “I don’t believe you.”
The words surprise me. Here she is, about the size of a large rabbit, and she’s flat-out denying that my story is real.
It isn’t.
She has great instincts.
But I also know that I’m not exactly someone people stand up to.
I lean on the desk. “Don’t matter,” I say in a low tone. “He’s my wolf.”
“He’s no one’s wolf. Wolves don’t belong to people,” she says in that same crisp tone.
Okay. I like that.
“He’s a wolf that I’m helping. Look,” I say, gesturing to the collar. “I’ll get him out of your hair, and then you can be on with your day.”
She stares at me. Stares at the paper.
Her eyes narrow into little slits, and I can see an angry blush on her cheeks.
Oh, she’s pissed at me. She wants to hold him here.
I glance at her name tag. “Iris,” I read.
“What?” she barks.
“You can come check on him at our facility,” I say quickly.
Her eyes widen. “Pardon?”
“If you’re worried. You can come stop by anytime,” I say.
As the words leave my mouth, I kick myself.
Of all the fucking stupid things to say right now, that’s the dumbest one I could have possibly come up with. She definitely cannot stop by anytime. She can’t even come near the pack, because she can’t know that shifters exist.
She’s human. Completely, totally, and thoroughly human. I don’t need to smell her to know that’s true.
There’s no way I’m going to let her inspect a nonexistent wildlife rescue, and no way she can see this kid again.
But I have to get out of here.
