“I’m sure this meeting will be incredibly professional, then. As a whole, you’ve both seemed very careful about how you come across. Especially when Rhone half-shifted and tackled you out of the room, in your wolf form, after you bit me for the second time without warning or explanation.”
“Werewolves don’t give a shit about professionalism.”
“The bullhorn gave that away.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t flinch. I had earplugs in and it still fucking hurt.”
“Being a vampire requires strict commitment to feigning humanity, even in the most physically uncomfortable situations.” I quoted one of the Guild’s rulebooks.
Maverick snorted.
The elevator dinged, and the doors finally opened.
We stepped inside. He hit the button for the ground floor, and it descended. We stood side by side again, both of us looking straight at the closed doors.
I allowed myself one sideways glance on the way down.
Maverick looked tired, but ultimately still fucking hot. At least one of us could pull off exhaustion.
Between my bun, borrowed clothes, and healing neck wounds, I looked like the living dead.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. Two women were on the other side of the doors when they opened.
Their gazes flicked between us. I expected Maverick to tell them to wait for the next one, but he waved them in instead.
No one said a word on the way down.
The women were absolutely staring at me.
Probably silently wondering why their Alpha hadn’t killed me.
So awkward.
My eyes followed the numbers above the doors as we descended.
Three.
Two.
One.
The women left first. I followed Maverick out after.
At least that was over.
We headed down the hallway.
“How bad are your conditions going to be?”
“That depends on your definition of bad,” the Alpha said.
I didn’t think that boded well for me.
We turned a corner in the hall, and Maverick typed a code into a keypad I hadn’t noticed in front of a door.
If this was another cage, I was going to lose it.
Or cry.
