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“Charlotte must be cooking tonight,” Peaches says, her eyes closed as she smells the air. “She and Elijah turned up with a ton of easy mac last week, and kept sayin’ they were going to make a treat out of it.”
“Where the hell did she get easy mac?” I ask. “I haven’t had that since…damn, I can’t remember the last time.”
“The city,” Peaches says. “Her grandparents live in the old Austin encampment and they try to sneak out rations when they can.”
Another question I’ve had—why the pack lives out here instead of in the more defensible encampment. But I digress as Peaches stands and smoothes out the floral print pleats of her dress. “Anyway,” she says. “I guess it must be about time for dinner—you ready?”
“Got nowhere else to be,” I say, joining her. “Blindfold on, or…?”
“Nah,” Peaches shakes her head. “Reyes says you’re good to go, so I guess it’s time for a tour of the den.”
CHAPTER NINE
?
REYES
“So you fucked up.”
I groan and lean back in my seat in the visitor center as Grant and Will grill me, the two of them sitting across from me. As two of my most trusted alphas, they never hesitate to speak their minds, especially since they know I’ll tell them if they need to back down.
But tonight, they’re being particularly bad.
“I think it’s becomeabundantlyclear that that’s the case,” I mutter. “I’ve known Tilda for a total of what—twenty-four hours? And she already hates me.”
“Given that I’m pretty sure she came here to kill you, I think she already hated you without the bite,” Will says. “You can’t trust a crusader, that’s all I’m gonna say about it.”
“But she’s…” I lean forward, hoping they can provide at least a bit of a sanity check. “What does she smell like to you?”
Grant frowns; he’s one of our newer lycans, only having been blessed two years ago. “This is one of those questions I’m still not used to,” he says. “You want us to tell you what she smells like?”
Will shrugs. “I don’t know—nothing specific. I don’t get anything from her other than what I would from any other omega, like Peaches or Charlotte.”
“Yeah, like pussy,” Grant chimes in.
I give him a chastising glare and Will elbows him hard in the ribs. “Charlotte’s hisniece, you sick fuck.”
“Sorry,” Grant says. “I wasn’t trying to—never mind. Back to the point though…does Tilda smell like something special to you?”
I groan, pulling my hand up to tug on my beard. “Don’t worry about it.”
Will cocks his head and narrows his dark eyes. “Well, that just makes me think we should worry about it.”
“You don’t need to concern yourself,” I insist. “She’s just an omega, she’s going to help us with this farm thing, and then we’re going to give her back to her people and we’ll never have to see her again.”
“Awfully optimistic of you to think a crusader who’s been inside our inner sanctum isn’t going to come back with a whole crew of pitchfork-wielding yokels,” Grant says. “Country folks don’t just give up. Trust me on that.”
“Last I checked, you’d never even been outside Austin until you were blessed,” Will snorts. “You don’t know shit about country folk.”
“I know they’re sketchy,” Grant argues. “I’ve seen Deliverance.”
Their conversation fades into the background as Tilda’s familiar scent hits me, blackberries and leather barreling into me like a freight train. I’m torn between dying to talk to her and wishing she’d never come here as I chance a look toward the door and find her walking in with Peaches, Arden stalking behind them. I wonder if Tilda even realizes she’s had a guard tailing her this whole time.
She looks better than she did the last time I saw her, finally cleaned up and wearing a fresh set of clothes. She’s tied her long hair into a braid down the side of her head, her gaze discerning as she checks out the others in the room.
Her eyes find me almost immediately. I tilt my chin at her.
She scowls and turns away to walk in a different direction with Peaches.
