I rested a hand on his arm. “I want to stay in here with you.”
He released a pent-up breath. “Thank fuck.”
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.” He growled and then leaned forward to kiss me.
My toes curled against the wooden floor as warmth seeped through every part of me. “Mmm, that won’t ever get old.”
“Agreed, mate,” Sascha whispered. “Now let’s go to dinner. I’m starving.”
This girl needed a moment to collect herself. “I’ll be right behind you.”
I listened as he left the bungalow and entered the pack house.
My phone buzzed.
Wade.
I’ve waited five hours.
Why the hell do I need to stay put?
The wait would have killed him, but I didn’t want to message him until I spoke to Sascha.
What do you think? I asked Booker.
You want to tell the tribe, so do it. It’s not your problem that Sascha Greyson has a rebellious pack member.
Rebellious wasn’t how I’d describe the old fisherwolf. He was testing my loyalty. The Luther literally reeled in a fish with bait and threw it back in the water. His information was a poorly concealed trap.
If I keep my mouth shut, I betray the tribe. If I tell the tribe, I betray Sascha. I groaned.
If you betray your pack, then you betray Sascha too, she replied.
… Could you dumb that down for me?
There’s a reason you didn’t react with a partial heat after the kiss meet. There’s a reason neither of you received the next mating gift.
I stilled. Why?
You know why, she said softly. If you cannot give Sascha Greyson all of you, then neither of you will be happy. You’re only giving him part of you, even now.
I wasn’t great at hearing these things, but my wolf was nearly always right on such matters when she chose to chime in. I’d barely glanced at Sascha tonight until he confronted me about my mood. The distance I’d subconsciously erected between us had everything to do with what the old wolf told me about the pack’s Sandstone strategy and everything to do with my failure to pass the news on to the tribe. What should I do?
If the answer were obvious, we’d be on that path already. But you know what to do right now. Trust your gut.
Taking a deep breath, I texted Wade back.
I know the pack’s plans for Sandstone.
It’s bad.
I need you to tell Rhona immediately.
He texted back.
You want me to help her?!
You must be out of your fantastic mind.
Felt like it.
Please. This is for the tribe.
It’s important.
Not waiting for a reply, I sent through the details of their strategy and added my theory after.
Three dots appeared.
On it, baby girl.
Tension drained from my shoulders.
This shit was one twisted, hellish mess.
Sliding my phone in my back pocket, I walked out of the bungalow.
The lawn and stairs outside the pack house were filled with pack members making the most of the warm summer evening. While Luthers came and went for breakfast and lunch, they all made an effort to gather for the last meal of the day.
Which was awesome for me.
I ignored the hundreds of curious eyes and the hundreds more hostile eyes and entered the huge bungalow.
My nose twitched at the scent of gravy and potatoes.
Hot damn.
I hurried to load a plate with vegetables and chicken. Dousing the food with rich gravy, I scanned the pack members sitting on the floor and eating.
The bungalow was always divided down the middle with females on one side and males on the other. The only place that didn’t obey that rule was the leaders’ table. On it sat Sascha and his five status representatives, Hairy, Leroy, Mandy, Grim, and Lisa.
I’d sat at that table every night since arriving. An empty chair waited there for me.
But to my eyes and ears, the hostility against me had grown in the last few days, not diminished. Therefore, I was doing something wrong, and I’d promised to give pack life a real shot.
Scanning the females again, I puzzled over their seating arrangement. They were in clusters but moved in a weird shimmer.
So did the male side.
Like a mass wave at a sports game, those towards the exit would only eat when those closer to the leader table had eaten before them. I focused on the women closest to Sascha’s table. Almost as one, they took a bite. Then the group down from them did the same. This repeated all the way to the door and to those groups I could see just outside.
Why did they do that?
It sorted out where I was sitting at least. I wasn’t waiting to eat for anyone.
I sat cross-legged on the ground just in front of the first cluster and dipped a roasted potato in the gravy.
“What are you doing?” a pretty brunette asked.
“I’m about to cover this potato in as much gravy as possible. Then, I will eat it.” I followed the explanation with a practical demonstration.
Her blue eyes slitted. “You can’t eat here.”
I swallowed. “I beg to differ. I just did.”
“This is where alpha females sit.”
Sascha’s mother was here, but she didn’t interfere.
“I’m a sigma female,” I replied. “Why do you think your rules mean anything to me?”
“A sigma in a pack has to obey pack rules.”
I covered another potato with gravy. Should have poured more on. “Where do your pack rules suggest a female sigma sit?”
“Wherever you can hold a position,” she answered, a slight sneer in her tone.
“I’m holding this one just fine.” I shoved the second potato in my mouth and selected some broccoli. Gross, but green stuff was supposedly good. Did copious amounts of gravy cancel that out?
I watched the other women. Around half of those between me and the door were eating after I did. The others seemed to be holding off in support of Miss Rules here.
The brunette leaned forward to meet my gaze. “I’m telling you that you can’t sit here.”
I held her gaze. “I’m telling you that these potatoes are really good, and I’m not waiting to eat them in whatever queue system your pack has going on. If you’d like me to not sit here, then I suggest you attempt to move me.”
I felt a very slight pressure on my mind.
Huh, fancy that.
A strong wolf could force their way into the minds of a weaker wolf. Sascha had such power as pack leader, and I’d accidentally done it to Daniil to locate Wade.
What I felt now was a much weaker version of that.
My smile widened. “Are you trying to move me with your mind?”
Her eyes flashed and the pressure in my head mounted.
Feeling blindly, I located another potato on my plate and brought it to my mouth without breaking our stare. A bead of sweat broke out on the woman’s forehead.
“How long does this go for?” I asked after swallowing.
Sascha’s mother answered. “Until one of you backs down.”
Oh, brother. “For the record, I just wanted to eat potatoes and gravy.”
Can I get a hand? I asked my slumbering wolf.