“Staying alive for three thousand years isn’t luck.” Atticus folded his arms on the table. “Lucian said you might murder me on this trip.”
A coughing fit erupted when Krys choked on his food. He held a napkin to his mouth until the coughing ceased and then wiped crumbs off his goatee. “That little fucker.”
“You don’t deny it.”
“I don’t admit it either.” Krys’s icy blue eyes cut through him like a knife. “All I said was it would be a damn shame if one of those Vampires took you out.”
“Message received.”
“Why does a Vampire want to live in a pack?” He pointed a greasy finger at him. “And why the hell does aVampwant a pregnant woman? I don’t get it.”
Atticus ignored the use ofVamp, which was considered derogatory. “I didn’t expect winning your pack over to be easy.”
“You got that right. Wolves and Vamps are natural enemies, so you’re gonna need to do a whole lotta convincing.”
“Joy shines from within. I’m sure you’ve felt her energy and know what I’m talking about. Her smile makes me forget how long I’ve been alive and all the terrible things I’ve seen. Her kiss wakes up my soul. She’s flawed and loves the side of her that others fear. She’s brave. I love her confidence and the way she moves through a room. I even love the dainty way she eats cake.”
“Not her beauty?”
“Beauty is ubiquitous. Joy is beautiful, but that’s not why I love her.” Atticus studied Krys’s disdainful look. “Why do you despise Vampires?”
“You’ll hurt Joy.”
Atticus narrowed his eyes. “That willneverhappen. I’ve heard about your wolf being unstable and violent with people. I should be more concerned that you might hurt her… or the baby.”
Krys stared daggers at him. “Fuck you. My wolf would never hurt a woman or child.”
The sound of his racing heart proved his words were aligned with his emotions.
Atticus cast his gaze out the window. “You might want to rethink any plan you’re scheming to do away with me. You’ll hurt too many people.”
“After a few tears, she’ll move on. She’s better off with a wolf.” Krys wadded up his napkin and tossed it onto the table. “None of it makes sense.”
“Shifters mate with their own kind—that I understand. But your hate for Vampires is visceral.” He stared at Krys for a long moment, unable to read him. “Punishing me won’t fix someone else’s wrong.”
“She could do better.”
“Why aren’t you mated?”
A flush appeared on Krys’s cheeks, but Atticus couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.
“Because I’m a piece of shit,” Krys retorted. “Look, I know what I’m good for. Not everyone’s cut out for the family life.”
“I once said the same thing.”
Krys shook his head. “I don’t feel like being someone else’s disappointment. Maybe you need to spare Joy the same fate.”
It was a fruitless task to convince him their love was authentic, so Atticus stood. “Have you finished your plate of grease? We’re late.”
While Krys cleaned off the table, Atticus took off his trench coat, folded it, and put on the grey zip-up jacket. After taking out the brown lace-up boots, he tossed the shoebox and packing material into the trash.
Krys snorted. “You look like a sleeper agent.”
A veil of mist continued falling on their way to the truck. With every exhale, a cloud of breath appeared.
“Your wolf didn’t attack me,” Atticus reminded him as they got inside the truck. “On some level, that means you trust me.”
Krys rolled down his window before starting up the engine. “You’re a psychopath.”
