Page 65 of Sold to Three Alpha Kings

He scans the hall like he’s expecting trouble. There isn’t any. Just his own pack members mingling easily with mine, laughter carrying instead of tension.

I catch the exact moment he relaxes—shoulders dropping half an inch, jaw unclenching. Small changes. I notice them anyway.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” I tease, approaching him with my usual unbothered expression. “You know, for a moment there, I actually thought you weren’t coming.”

“I almost didn’t.” His intense gaze sweeps over the hall, and I know exactly who he’s looking for.

A particular plus-sized redhead that has us all morphing into something we never thought was possible.

“Don’t worry, she’s here.” I sip from my goblet. “Somewhere.”

“I didn’t say I was searching for her.”

“Drop the act, tough guy.” I roll my eyes, tired of his pretense. “We’ll always look for her in crowded places like this. It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

He sighs softly. “Are you down with a fever?”

“Huh?” I push my head back, taken aback by the random question he asked me.

“Did I stutter? I asked if you’re down with a fever.”

I raise my eyebrows, arms apart. “Do I look like someone who’s down with a fever?”

“No, you don’t,” he says, a small knowing smirk pulling at one side of his mouth. “But this party doesn’t look like something you organized.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I fake a frown.

“You’re never organized, Wayne,” he presses on. “You’re always so loud and reckless.” His eyes scan the hall again. “So it’s either you’re down with a fever to have pulled this off, or it wasn’t your idea.”

“Haha, very funny!” I let out a dry, sarcastic laugh.

He chuckles quietly. “It was supposed to be a compliment, you idiot.”

“Well, you suck at giving compliments, you fuckin’ bastard.”

His lips curve into a genuine grin. Faint. But genuine.

My relationship with Chris is gradually becoming more friendly. We still fight and argue, but this time, it’s more comical than serious.

I haven’t told him this, but he and Charlize are very much alike when it comes to bickering with me.

“Drink,” I say, pushing a goblet into his hand. “Actually enjoy yourself tonight. I promise nothing catastrophic will happen.”

“Your promises have a spotty record.”

“This one’s solid.” I grin. “Well… mostly.”

He drinks anyway. That’s progress.

“You two lovebirds aren’t planning a coup, are you?” Sinth’s gentle voice drifts through the air as he approaches us.

“Seriously, why are you two trying to be funny tonight? I’m the one in charge of making the jokes—me. I’m the comic relief here, okay? You two stick to your boring personalities and stop trying to steal mine.”

They laugh. Not loudly. Quietly.

Charlize finds her way to a cluster of women near the far end of the hall, her movement poised and gracious.

“Look at her,” I say to them, unable to take my eyes off our mate. “Isn’t she just lovely?”