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Micah pressed his lips into a thin line, his teeth biting into the flesh until he tasted blood. His heart beat too fast, pounded too insistently against his sternum. Each shallow breath whistled through his nose, and his knuckles cracked, aching as he squeezed his hands into fists on the tabletop.
“Micah, stop.” Grabbing his right hand, August held hit between both of his own and stroked the taut skin with his thumbs. “Look at me. Micah, look at me. Good,” he breathed when Micah met his gaze. “C’mon, now. Deep breaths. Let it go, big guy.”
Unfortunately, the waitress chose that moment to bounce up to their table, her blond ponytail swaying as she rocked up on her toes. “Hello, gentleman. What can I get you to drink this afternoon?”
“Water,” August answered curtly, though he didn’t look away from Micah. “Two waters.”
“Can I get you an appetizer? They’re half price until four.”
“Just the waters.” The “fuck off and die” part was only implied by his acerbic tone rather than actually voiced aloud. “That’s all.”
The girl took the hint, nodding silently before disappearing toward the servers’ station. Her interruption, however, managed to cut through the irrational rage. Relaxing his jaw muscles, Micah ran his tongue along his bleeding lips, cleaning away the crimson drops. A slow tingle spread through his mouth as his body worked to heal itself, but he barely noticed. Most of his attention focused on the warmth surrounding his right hand.
“Better?”
Loosening his hold, August started to pull away, but Micah reversed his grip, unable or unwilling to relinquish the contact so soon. Cradling his mate’s wrist, he caressed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. August’s blue veins throbbed, pulsing rhythmically against Micah’s touch.
“I’m sorry, Ant.” He’d never been rational when it came to his intended, but even he hadn’t expected such a violent response. “I’m better now.”
August cleared his throat, and when he pulled his hand away this time, Micah let him go. “Still don’t like being told what to do, I see.”
No, he didn’t, but that wasn’t why he’d nearly lost his mind. He’d known Meredith most of his life, and he didn’t want to believe her capable of hurting anyone. Devil’s ivy didn’t magically find its way into August’s blood stream, though. Someone wanted him dead, or at the very least, too sick to move. If not the redheaded human, someone close to her.
Of course August could take care of himself, but he shouldn’t have to. Micah had walked away twelve years ago to protect his mate. He’d hoped that was all in the past, but not twenty-four hours after their brief phone conversation, someone had already poisoned August.
He should have never come back. “You’re probably right,” he answered with a flippancy he didn’t feel. “I guess I’m not very good at taking orders.”
“Well, I wouldn’t take it too hard.” August smiled, though it looked as fake as the gold accents carved into the tabletops. “I’m sure it’s just an Alpha thing.”
Micah shook his head. “I’m not the Alpha.” The server approached the table again, distracting him before he could elaborate.
August jerked back like he’d been slapped. “You’re not serious.” He nodded at the pretty blond when she placed a glass in front of him. “Can we have a few more minutes to look at the menu?”
“Sure. I’ll check on you in a minute.” Then she flounced away with the small tray tucked under her arm.
Leaning across the table, August lowered his voice, but it held no less urgency for the lack of volume. “The pack needs an Alpha, Micah.”
“Why? They have a Queen.”
ALobosAlpha was nothing more than a glorified soldier who enforced the rules and traditions of their culture. The true leadership of their packs, fell to the women.
A Queen wolf governed each pack, usually from behind the scenes, but still, no one disobeyed her orders. Through magic, an ingrained instinct, or maybe something even bigger, no pack member except the Alpha could deny their Queen.
“They do have a Queen.” August spoke calmly, but the muscles in his jaw ticked. “They still need an Alpha, though. The system only works if you let it.”
Micah shook his head. “I’m not discussing this with you.”
August’s lips parted in a silent gasp, but the look lasted only a moment before he snapped his mouth closed and leaned back in his seat. His eyes tightened at the corners, and he folded his arms over his slim chest, creating even more distance between them.
“I guess some things never change.”
Good gods, their meeting wasn’t going at all how Micah had envisioned. He felt anxious and uptight. August appeared to be looking for any reason to pick a fight with him, and they hadn’t been in each other’s company for more than fifteen minutes.
No, some things never changed.
“What I mean,” he said after a significant pause, “is that I’m not going to discuss pack business with you in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”
“Fine, when?”
