Page 74 of Red

I pull them all out, but pause to move into the bathroom to throw on shorts and a T-shirt. Not that Stark hasn’t seen everything . . . Carrying my exhausted naked body to bed wouldn’t have been sexy.

He’s mated. Mated. Just a nice Alpha who brings me books and food. No big deal. It’s an obligation thing, nothing more.

There are eighteen books in total, some maybe close to 700 pages, while others are thin, more story retellings. I study each one and sort them into stacks. Stark’s attention stays on me the entire time, like he’s not even breathing.

I finally pick up a thinner brown leather-wrapped book with a string tied around it. “This one,” I say, moving into the chair beside him.

“Why?”

“Just cause.” I untie the small stringed bow.

He goes to take it away, but I swat his hand.

“I gave you my private collection of books. Let’s hear a real answer.”

“Shouldn’t you be out patrolling?”

He keeps his eyes on me.

I sigh, giving in . . . sort of. “It’s the one of the few, that. um . . .” I rub my fingers over the title—Scarlett’s Diary. “This is a firsthand account. Everything else I’ve read are stories, retellings, or misshapen versions. This, I’ve just . . . never seen anything like it. So again, thank you. I know you didn’t need to share these with me.”

“If it’s mine, it’s yours, okay? And the borders are being covered.”

“Okay.” I give him a quizzical look, then I can’t wait any longer. I open the first pages to handwritten ink, some of it so faded even so I can barely read the words.

Stark reaches out and grabs a book from the stack, then settles in to read. Every few pages, I catch his gaze from the corner of my eye, though I don’t address it, or think about why I keep looking. Something about a man with a book in his lap.

1914 September 15th

Father is taking me away today. The rumors about me have started to reach packs a day or two away, and there’s word they’re traveling this way. Father says it will be an adventure. I caught Mother crying while she packed our things into bags. I sit here knowing it’s because of me. I told Matthew, who I thought would be my mate. It’s all my fault. I wish I wasn’t red.

A wet mark forms on the page as tingles travel up my knee. “Red?”

I look up from the pages, my tears dripping onto my bare thighs.

“You in pain?”

“No. Um, not that sort of pain.” I force a small half-smile.

Stark brings his hand up and wipes the tears away, leaving traces of tingles across my cheeks. “If you weren’t here, what would you be doing?”

I want to tell him the truth, at least part of it. “Running, somewhere in the woods.”

He nods. “Pratt let you do a lot . . .”

“Yes and no. It was always safe in the trees until I came here . . .” I look away. “Did you always want to be an Alpha?”

“I did. I like taking care of others, knowing that they are safe—something that can look different to everyone. The thought of you out in the woods with the way many pack members feel, with no defenses . . .” He stops himself. “Not that I know of,” he adds. “I’m not as relaxed as your brother was.”

“I have learned,” I say, my voice playful. He’s being honest with me, and I appreciate it.

“Why did you leave school? Did you know you wouldn’t turn?” All his attention is on me with his book closed on his thigh.

I don’t know how to answer that question. I turned a bit later than some, but not so late that it made sense when I left. I missed out on so much.

“That would have been a question for my mom. I’m, um, going to keep reading,” I say, shutting him out.

“Of course. I have to step out, but I’ll be in the house.”