Page 10 of Red

“Fine.”

I step out, but he leans in closer, “Want, like, a sweater first?”

“Uh, no?” I brush past him and head into the room. If they want me to come to dinner, I’m not bothering to dress up for them. I am not putting effort in. My silk tank top and matching shorts are good enough.

The second I enter the room, Stark’s giant frame beelines past the kitchen island and grabs my arm, pulling me back down the hallway.

“What the—”

“You cannot come to dinner like that.” The drop in his voice creates tingles in unwanted places, including my arm.

“Why?” I slide my hand down over my hips, biting my lip. It’s not like Stark is attracted to me. He’s probably so disgusted at a failed werewolf being in his house.

“Just go change.” He pushes me through the doorway to my bedroom.

I don’t want to cause a scene with Graden, so I throw on a pair of leggings and a crewneck. Good enough.

We gather at the huge table, this time all at one end. Graden skips taking the head of the table and sits next to Stark. Hudry sits a bit straighter than usual. It’s nice not having a ton of people in the room, and even the spread is smaller—a salad, potatoes, pork chops, and a mix of steamed vegetables. I scoop the salad onto my plate and some of the veggies. Skipping the meat again, my stomach sighs at the food. It’s not what I want, but it’s something.

“Do you never eat meat?” Graden tips his head at me.

Both Jocko’s and Stark’s gaze raise from their plates.

“I’m just picky.” The truth.

Hudry leans in. “Stark’s a great cook. I told him I liked potatoes once, and he pretty much made every kind there is.”

The faintest bit of color forms on Stark’s cheeks at the compliment. He’s a better cook than me. I can’t believe he takes the time out of his day to cook for so many.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. Thank you though.”

“It’s true. I can cook what you like.”

He doesn’t need to do more. I already live in his home. I may be forced to be here, but sometimes it’s hard to remember he didn’t make the rules.

“I’ll have to think on it.”

This time, they’re even more relaxed about pack business. They discuss the changes of patrol into doubles instead of singles due to the increased number of armed humans they’ve found venturing closer and closer to our territory. I guess they know no one can hear my thoughts, plus I don’t have anyone to talk to and cause panic. Part of me doesn’t want to hear about it so I can convince them to let me out of the house alone, but even I have to admit that at this point, I am going to need to find another way.

Jocko nudges me. “Want to go for a run tomorrow?”

I give a small head shake. “No. Another day, though, please.” I give him the biggest smile I can form, which isn’t much.

Despite the niceness of fewer people at the table, I slip out of the room soon after I finish eating. If I time it right, tomorrow I can go out on my own for a release. Denying Jocko’s kindness sucked, but Stark has a meeting with a few other cohort Alphas to discuss patrol lines, meaning no one else will be around.

Chapter 6

Outside the front door, on the deck, it’s peaceful, the sun beaming down through the trees. A few small birds chirp, flying in the warm sun rays, and I let my body warm. I didn’t want to trip any hidden alarms by climbing out my window. Plus, if anyone else shows up, I can tell them I had permission.

I hear the sound of tires on snow in the distance, and my shoulders shrink. If it’s Stark, I can’t be missing when he gets back. That won’t help me. I move to sit on the steps, in a sports bra and the same tight running shorts. I will tell him I was going running. He won’t get too mad, even after I denied Jocko’s request, but still, my palms grip the front of my knees. The engine hum gets closer, but it’s not the sound of Stark’s pickup truck.

A green SUV pulls up and parks. A girl steps out, taller than most, and I realize I recognize her. She was at the second dinner I had here. She’s dressed in an actual winter coat, along with leggings and fuzzy-topped winter boots. A weird choice for a werewolf, unless she spent time with the humans. Sometimes the odd werewolf prefers their trends. Her hair is cut short in a bob around her neck.

“Hi?” I say. Maybe I can make her leave quick.

“You going somewhere?” A hand rests on the hip of her puffy coat as she gives me an unimpressed look.

“Just for a quick run.”