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This can’t be owned by a rogue. The lawns and hedges are well maintained; the exterior has a very coastal, tropical feel—giant palm trees and hanging plants, well-trained vines along the guard rails; a colossal water fountain sits in the center of the parking lot. Getting out, I look at Ashley quickly.
“Stay here, I'll be back in a minute,” I tell her. Ashley nods to me and pulls out her phone. I slam my door a little too hard.
Walking around, I inspect the place. The restaurant is packed, every seat is taken, waiters are bustling around inside serving guests. The food smells divine, and I growl in annoyance before opening the restaurant door. I can hear people in the kitchen singing happy birthday when a woman—a beautiful woman—comes out carrying a cake. The staff sings behind her as they follow, and those eating at the tables all stop to sing along as she places it on a table in the corner.
Her scent instantly hits my nostrils and my entire body locks up in shock. All I can do is stare at the woman with her arms wrapped around the birthday girl in the corner—who looks a bit younger than the woman—as they sing to her.
Mate.
My skin starts buzzing, my heart beats faster, and I am consumed by the overwhelming urge to claim her. Suddenly, it feels like there’s no one else in the room but us.
My entire body calls me toward the petite woman. Her uniform indicates she's some kind of manager here, and her hair is pulled in a bun on her head, showing off her neck—right where I want to sink my teeth.
Everyone cheers as the younger girl blows out the candles.
“Oh, we need napkins,” I hear my mate’s melodious voice call out. I feel stuck, entranced by her. My mouth waters as I watch her walk away and back into the kitchen. She's a little skinny—I'll fix that. She also looks tired, but she's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
I walk slowly towards another slightly older woman in the corner, who is cutting the cake. Trying not to draw attention to myself, I tap her on the shoulder. She glances at me briefly without meeting my eyes before looking back down in subservience.
“Can I help you, Alpha?” she asks, obviously picking up my aura.
“Yes, that woman that walked into the back to get napkins…”
“Everly, Sir. How can I help you?” she says, straightening up to look at me properly.
Her eyes dart to mine, and she immediately steps back, bumping into the table and the younger girl, who then looks at me. Her eyes go wide, and she clutches the woman’s arm. The fear on both their faces is evident. I knew I was feared, but I haven't done anything, only asked a simple question; they're acting like I'm about to go on some killing spree. My reputation is terrible, but I wasn’t expecting such fear from two women I've never met before.
“Zoe, go check on Everly,” the woman says.
Everly.
Why does her name sound so familiar to me?
ChapterNineteen
Everly
I watch Zoe blow out her candles. Today is her twenty-first birthday and I feel blessed to call her one of my best friends, though she's more like a sister to me—Zoe and Macey fill the places where my family should have been.
I'm happy with how far we've all come. We didn’t need anyone; we only needed each other. We got ourselves here.
“Happy twenty-first,” I whisper to her, giving her a hug after setting the cake down.
“Oh, we need napkins,” I tell her before rushing off back to the kitchen. I go into the storeroom, grab a box of refills and pull a handful out before placing the box back on the shelf. Just as I walk back out, Zoe rushes into the kitchen, her face pale and masked with a look of horror. She smacks straight into me before grabbing my arms.
“What is it? What happened?” I ask, looking around for what scared her. When she doesn’t answer, I walk past her to investigate myself—it must be bad for her not to be able to tell me. Zoe fears nothing these days, she's really come out of her shell, so something serious has to have happened for her to be such a nervous wreck.
“You can’t go out there,” she blurts out, gripping my arms and pulling me away from the door just as I'm about to step through.
“Sir, you can’t go back there,” I hear Macey call to someone in the restaurant.
“What happened?” I repeat. “Zoe?”
Her eyes go wide as she stares over my shoulder. I grip her arms—whatever she fears must be right behind me. Before I even finish the thought, his scent wafts to me and I straighten up, rigid. Zoe’s eyes dart to mine.
My face must mirror the same horror hers does because she grabs my hands, squeezing them tight. I close my eyes, willing myself not to break—he willnotbreak me. He already does that nearly every night, and somehow, I’ve learned to live with it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of actually seeing it.
“Your name is Everly, right?” he says, his voice soft and serious.
