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“Do they live here?” I ask softly.
Charlotte politely pulls out a chair for me, and I sit. “They did at one point,” she says. “They’ll stay here occasionally, now. One of them watches the place while the others stay at their own homes.”
I nod. Something is off in the way Charlotte speaks again, but I can’t quite place it.
I don’t ask about the Alphas anymore.
That’s a mystery I don’t need to solve.
“I’ll go check on breakfast,” Charlotte adds quickly. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee sounds great.”
She leaves me alone in the dining room, and I exhale slowly.
I haven’t stayed anywhere by myself since the car accident.He’sbeen by my side every night, making sure I’m taking my medicine and holding me while I sleep.
It was the first night sleeping by myself in a long time.
Unless you count Wilson, who makes a surprise entrance. He jumps onto the fireplace mantle, weaving himself carefully around the decorative silver candelabra and plops down, his green eyes slowly blinking at me.
“Good morning,” I mutter, and he yawns. Despite all my time with him, I still don’t feel any sign of allergies.
“Wilson,” a low voice warns. I stiffen at the sound.
There’s the snapping of fingers, and the feline immediately jumps off the mantle and scurries out of the dining room.
The air changes, and I feel a pair of eyes burning into my back.
A scent hits me, so surprising and delicious that I almost turn around to find the source.
Spice. Chocolate.
Alpha.
His shadow is behind me, and I’m frozen where I sit. Power exudes from this man, his energy radiating throughout the room.
AndGod, he smells insanely good.
Footsteps approach behind me, and I stare at my hands in my lap, too anxious to look up. His looming figure takes a seat in front of me, setting a coffee mug on the table.
I look anywhere but at him. I study the intricate details of the dining table, counting the ridges and grooves.
Why sit directly across from me when there are at least twelve open seats?
“Good morning.” A low rumble sounds from him, and I force my eyes to look up.
It’s the Alpha from earlier—the one in the garden who looked at me with disdain.
He’s wearing that same look now, and my heart pounds in my chest.
James looked at me with hunger.
This one looks at me with coldness. His eyes blaze into mine, rich emerald irises full of intensity. Up close, I can see the slightest bit of grey in his perfectly styled dark brown hair.
Just like James, he’s striking.
“Morning,” I mutter, looking back at the table, praying Charlotte returns with food soon.
