Page 137 of Pack Baby for the Silver Foxes

“There are no hills in London.” She waited.

“There’s a river.” My voice softened. “And it’s where I have a nest, and a pack, and I never had alphas then.”

Lincoln’s scent broke first, then Hudson’s followed, until I was surrounded by whiskey, rain, blackberry and the most precious smell of all, Violet bloomed.

Maeve looked at them, then at me.

Her smile was small and sad and happy all at once.

“No,” she said. “You didn’t.”

Chapter 23

Mary

I was in Maeve’s smaller sitting room with my feet tucked under a blanket, a cup of tea in my hands, and a plate of chocolate covered biscuits I hadn’t asked for but accepted. Hudson and Lincoln were down the hall with Artem and Ivan, discussing security upgrades for the penthouse.

Hudson and Lincoln stayed close long enough for my doctor to be called, consulted, and satisfied that I wasn’t in immediate danger if I kept resting, drinking water, and stopped having men arrive from the sky.

Then the house grew quieter when the men started making plans.

Though Maeve’s house was never truly quiet. Mila was having a nap. Mac was talking to Gregor about why Duke wasn’t called Duchess. He’d learned that Dukes were boys and the Doberman was girl. Gregor explained it was just a name.

Maeve rolled her eyes. “He’ll never stop now.”

Maeve sat opposite me in an armchair, one leg tucked beneath her, Mila asleep against her chest.

“You keep listening out for them,” she said.

I looked away from the door. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m aware of my surroundings. Sienna says that’s sensible.”

Sienna stood near the window and didn’t look up from her phone. “I said situational awareness was useful. I didn’t say staring at the door like it owes you money was tactical.”

Maeve pressed her lips flat.

“Betrayal,” I said.

“Professional honesty,” Sienna replied.

“You see? Everyone has become very committed to the truth at my expense.”

Maeve adjusted Mila carefully. “That’s because lying to yourself is your favorite indoor sport.”

“I also enjoy painting.”

“Yes, and pretending the painting isn’t important to you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I preferred you when you were distracted by Prada crimes.”

“Fergus is in trouble.” From somewhere nearby came a small bark. Maeve looked toward the door. “And listening.”

I smiled into my tea. Then Damien’s name moved through my mind. I set the cup down.

Maeve saw it immediately. “What?”