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“The Alpha will ask why you didn’t tell him sooner,” she reminds me.
She’s right, but I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference to his response.
“If you go tomorrow, after Adam comes over, then you can tell him he just showed you it.”
As far as concessions go, I guess it’s a small one.
“I don’t want to ask Adam to lie,” I sign back.
“You won’t need to,” she says. “The Alpha won’t speak to him, and if he does, well, Adam doesn’t like to talk. He won’t get more than nods and head shakes out of the boy. Please, Alina. Wait until tomorrow.”
Waiting isn’t going to make things any better for me, but Alina needs more time to process what’s about to happen. Considering all that she’s done for me, I can’t refuse this request.
What difference is a day going to really make?
Chapter Five
Lita
Iwakeupwhenthe sun rises, and I know it’s time to go to the Alpha. I spent a couple of hours with Alina last night, baking cookies and praying to Artemis, before my guardian hugged me tight and told me to get my rest. I went to bed, but it took a lot longer than usual to fall asleep.
I know what I’m about to do will protect the pack.
That’s all I need to remember.
Whatever this means for me, I’ve had a good life.
I’ve been happy here with my guardian. I’ve made the most of everything I was given.
When I’m ready and dressed in my nicest clothes, I make my way to check on Alina.
It’s not like my guardian not to be ready before me.
I go to her door and knock a few times.
Folding my arms, I step back.
When she doesn’t open the door, I get an uneasy feeling in my stomach.
I grasp the handle and push it inwards, finding the room bright and the bed empty.
My guardian isn’t in the house, and there’s only one reason she’d leave without telling me.
She’s gone to see the Alpha on her own. She must think she can reason with him, persuade him not to throw me under the bus.
I stuff a notebook and pen into my back pocket before I rush out of the house.
The Alpha’s house is in the centre of town, close to the cafeteria.
I walk straight there, and go right up to his door, getting my notepad out on the porch and writing clearly that I need to see the Alpha on the first clean page, before I knock on the door.
Waiting on that doorstep is a strange kind of torture.
My nerves feel frayed by the time the door opens.
One of the Alpha’s middle sons looks back at me with a questioning expression, one eyebrow slightly raised. I hold the note out, and he rolls his eyes, pushing it away.
I frown at his puffy lips, annoyed that I have to put in the effort to read them when he can’t be bothered to read my six-word note.
