I turn away from the office and pause. I have two choices here. If I turn left, I can go back to the dining room, sit down with Rachel, and eat my dinner. A right turn will take me to the front door, fresh air, and a little time to myself to calm down. My emotions are ping-ponging all over the place and I don’t know if I can just go sit at the dinner table and pretend nothing’s wrong. So, I head to the right before I have a chance to change my mind.
At the front door, a twinge of guilt hits me. I might be pissed, but not ‘I’m leaving you’ level of pissed. I don’t want Julien to worry that I’ve run, so I call out over my shoulder as I walk outside. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back.”
Outside, I strip down and shift into my wolf. I’ve already seen a lot of the extensive backyard, so I head out to explore the stretch of land between the house and the main road. I trot along the edge of the half-mile driveway that curves between the trees, my nose twitching with all the fresh scents.
I haven’t made it very far when my ears perk up at the sound of a vehicle turning into the driveway and starting upward. Who’s here now? I duck into the trees, keeping out of sight as a black SUV barrels up the driveway, then screeches to a halt in front of the house.
Dante hops out from the driver’s side, his face set in a worried frown, and Brody exits the passenger side. The two of them rush inside, barely even taking the time to close the SUV’s doors. Something’s clearly wrong. Remy said they wouldn’t be here until tomorrow and I doubt they normally barge into their Alpha's house unexpected. I’d better go back to find out what’s going on.
I call up my shift, but before I can so much as imagine my human feet touching the ground, there’s a sharp pain in my side. Glancing back, I find a dart sticking out of my rear flank. Barely a second later, my head goes fuzzy as my legs give out.
Not just any dart then… atranquilizer.
Forty-Nine
Julien
“Ithinkitmightbe better if you weren’t here for this.”
As soon as the words pass my lips, I know I’ve screwed up. There are about a million better ways I could’ve phrased that and, of course, I choose the one sure to poke at my mate’s insecurities.
Keir’s brows draw together with confusion and his eyes flash with hurt. “What do you mean?”
I glance at my brother, hoping he can think of some way to smooth this over, then place my hands on Keir’s shoulders. “There are things you don’t know and I don’t think discussing them for the first time in front of a hostile stranger is wise.”
My mate’s expression darkens, and he presses his lips into a thin line.
“Fine,” he snaps, yanking out of my hold.
“Finish dinner,” says Remy, jumping in to back me up. “You can’t miss out on Mom’s lasagna. We’ll be done soon and can tell you all about it.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Keir nods, his mouth set into an angry scowl.
I try to apologize with my eyes, try to make him understand, but he won’t even meet my gaze. Remy takes my arm, studying me with narrowed eyes. He’s not sure what’s going on and he doesn’t like it.
Well, brother, neither do I.
Remy pulls me into the office, shutting the door behind us and leaving my angry—and sometimes unpredictable—mate outside. Here’s hoping I’ll be able to salvage this situation later without too much groveling.
I walk around my desk and sit down in the chair, frowning at the Sweet Water pack representative. Harold Eames is not what I would have expected from them. He gives off a kind of slick, urbane impression that doesn’t match up with what I know of Keir’s backward thinking former pack. The discrepancy makes me uneasy.
The guy obviously isn’t a pack member, so they must have hired him, but how the hell can theyaffordhim?
Remy moves to stand at my side in a show of support, though I can tell from the way he keeps glancing from me to Eames that my brother can’t figure out what’s going on.
“I did as you asked,” I say to Eames. “Are you satisfied?”
The smile that curls along Eames’s lips is slimy and reptilian. “Of course.”
“Why didn’t you want Keir to be here?” asks Remy, his quick mind picking up on at least that much.
Eames splays his hands out in a placating gesture. “I believe this will go much more smoothly without an overemotional omega to…stir things up.”
My eyes narrow. There’s something this guy isn’t saying. I cross my arms over my chest. “Fine. Whatever. You claimed you’re here to negotiate settlement. What’s their offer?”
Eames chuckles. “Before we get to that, I think we should discuss the basis of their claim. I’m sure your…”—he glances at Remy—“procurator?”
Remy gives him a curt nod.
