Page 4 of Red

After closing the office door behind me, I head into the main space and find the largest chair to climb into. I dive right in, but after a few useless chapters about why there are territories in the first place, I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the chair.

The noise of footsteps on the hardwood catches my ears, but I keep my eyes shut until the steps enter the pit. Even then, I only open them a slit and watch as a hand moves in front of me, tugging the book out of my lap. Personal space much?

Standing to his full height, Stark turns the book over in his hands. “Why are you reading this?” The deep accusation in his eyes doesn’t match the rest of his face.

“Seemed interesting.” I lift my hand up, motioning to get it back.

“You’re into history?”

“I’m into everything.”

Those arctic eyes go wide, then he lets out a low cough as he hands the book back to me like it burned his skin. It was nice to see the cool face he wears drop in shock.

Even if he’s not mated. According to history, we only sleep with mates. These days, most of us just sleep with humans. Despite the Elders’ displeasure in it, finding your one isn’t as simple as it used to be. Plus, forever with one other? Certifiable. Not that I want Stark.

The next dinner goes as well as the last. Everyone talks to each other through their pack connection, probably talking about me while I sit right in front of them. Stark doesn’t seem to partake in it at all; he just eats in silence other than the odd comment to Graden. They seem close, maybe related.

At the end of dinner, knowing I can’t convince them to let me go home, I have a new approach.

“Do you think I could go for a run?”

Stark’s eyebrows go up in question.

Graden’s face looks a bit more worn today. “In human form. I don’t think it’s safe to run,” he says.

“It’s probably safer. One benefit of being . . . well, me. I blend well.” I gesture to my height.

“Stark, what do you think?”

“No.” His voice carries across the table, those raised eyebrows now tight together.

The others in the room all stop chatting.

“I’ll just run the road and I can wait for daylight.” I refuse to beg; they already see me as weak. Without space, Pratt must have known I can only keep cool for so long.

“Fine. Risk your life. You go no further than Faira and Otis’s place.” Stark’s eyes bore into me like I’ve just asked him to cut his arm off.

The younger man beside me gives a small snicker.

“Amazing, thank you.” Warmth stretches up my arms, and I hold it just for a second before cooling off. Soon enough.

I smile the rest of the evening, busy dreaming of the freedom I’ll have the minute I get out the door.

Chapter 4

At dawn, I throw on a pair of tight workout shorts and a short-sleeve shirt. Carrying my runners to the front entrance, I don’t hesitate to slip into them and open the door. After being inside for a record amount of time, I finally move out to the front deck. The cold air kisses my exposed skin, but I don’t mind.

A cough catches me off guard, and I sidestep down the stairs onto the snow-packed driveway. Stark, covered head to toe in loose black pants and a black pullover, comes out from the far side of the house.

“Hi, Stark.” I let the irritation within me ring out. “What are you doing out this early?”

“Going for a run.”

My shoulders drop. “What? You must have something important to do.”

“Let’s go.” He takes off down the steps and follows the winding driveway into the snowy wilderness.

What a nice hello . . . This man needs manners. First, he restricts my running plan at dinner, and second, he crashes my joy by being present.