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“Was there any indication, aside from a solitary night spent in my bed, that I was mated to her?”

Even more silence.

“Then what should that tell you? It’d be wise to use your brain if you’ve got one. Vivian is not, and never was, my mate.” Donovan’s voice was ice cold. “Do not call my mate, Meredith, a whore. Not ever. Not if you want to live.” Power rolled through the room until we were all choking on his anger.

That pretty much ended the question and answer portion of our night. Thank God. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. I’d thought that I wanted to be accepted by the pack, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. Not if this was how they treated people.

Donovan took a bite of his food, and that signaled that he was moving on. Still, there was silence for a few minutes, before someone started talking. At first, it was just murmuring in the back, but over the course of a few minutes, the room slowly came to life. But my mate sat there, silently eating his food as he thought.

What do you think? I asked him.

I’m not sure this pack is salvageable.

From that line of questioning, I wasn’t sure either. I’d never heard an Alpha be questioned like that. The lack of respect was staggering. Being with me isn’t going to help. They’ve already decided to hate me. Maybe it’d be easier if I left after we find Bhrunyz. I can come back when you’ve got more of a handle on things.

Donovan took my hand in his and gave it a squeeze. No. Don’t leave. I need you here. You help me.

I’d been going back and forth, but for the first time, I really wondered if I could survive here. What the hell was I going to do? I couldn’t join a hostile pack. It was going to take months to sort it out. If it could be sorted.

I shoved the thought away to be dealt with later. I was tired, hungry, and overwhelmed. The pains in my stomach were the only thing that kept me at the table.

I took a bite of now cold mashed potato and barely managed to swallow. Saoirse caught my attention from across the table, and stood up, motioning me to follow her.

Why not? She seemed friendly enough, and I could use an ally in the pack. This could be my in.

I’d barely touched my food, so I decided to bring it along. With a nod to Donovan, I grabbed my plate and mug and followed Saoirse toward the back of the dining hall.

You okay? Donovan asked.

Yes. I’m making a friend. What are the chances that Saoirse has info on your traitor?

Pretty good. But it might take her a while to open up to you.

I had to start somewhere.

We pushed through the swinging kitchen doors. The chefs were hard at work, moving fast and calling out orders. Waitstaff stood off to the side, waiting for the orders. It was chaos, but they seemed to be handling it well. Moving deeper into the kitchens, we entered a smaller dining room. One of the cooks sat with his feet up, taking a break.

Saoirse cleared her throat, and the man jumped up. “Would you have Maureen come back?”

“Of course. I’ll get right on that.” The guy looked older than me, but it was hard to tell with Weres unless you knew them. He hustled out of the room like the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Whoa. Someone was eager to make sure Saoirse was taken care of. I wondered if she abused her position as Ian’s mate? It was too soon to tell, but it was something to keep an eye on.

I took a seat, and put my plate down. I was starving but the mountain of cold food wasn’t exactly appealing. “Thanks for getting me away from that. It was… Not pleasant.”

“Seemed like the case.” She nodded to someone behind me. “And I thought you might want to meet Maureen.”

The gray-haired woman who’d brought my food to the table in the dining hall stood twisting her apron in her hands. “I hope I’ve not upset you.”

I smiled, hoping to calm her nerves. “No. Thank you for the food. It’s really good.”

“You’ve not eaten but a bite of it.”

“It got a little tense out there. Saoirse saved me.”

Saoirse laughed. “You’re being kind.” She motioned for Maureen to sit. “This lovely woman is Ciara’s mother. I believe she’s now with your father’s pack? She’d love if you’ve news of her daughter.”

Why hadn’t I seen the similarity sooner? It was the eyes. Maureen and Ciara weren’t even close to being copies of each other. Ciara must’ve had more of her father in her. But now that I knew who Maureen was, I could see that they had the same mouth, too.

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