After Cora dropped me back at Reeves Pack house, I checked the group chat messages.
Golden Boy: I hope your lunch is going well. I miss you.
Golden Boy: We’re being kept late at practice, pretty girl. They’ve got a bunch of press and photos that we can’t get out of. But Slade agreed to take you to Luxuria. The club.
I blinked twice, re-read it, and immediately started to panic.
Slade agreed. The freaking dragon shifter agreed to drive me to work!Why? So he could burn me alive and pretend I’d stumbled into a forest fire?
In a daze I continued reading through the messages.
Daddy Alpha: He needs to stop by the stadium and brief his squad first, so can you be ready by 4 P.M, Emme?”
*Grouchy Bear has left the conversation*
*Slade has left the conversation*
Not the most auspicious start to him driving me to work.
Pretty Girl: Uh, are you guys sure? I really don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Is it walking distance maybe? I’m home with enough time for a decent trek.
I hadn’t bothered to change my name again, because Kellan woke up every morning and chose violence with this chat, and it was kind of growing on me.
Hunter answered within a few seconds.
Daddy Alpha: Not a chance, Emmeline. Do not leave the house without an escort. Alphas are already arriving in Golden Claw, which makes it even more unsafe than usual. Slade will do his part to protect the pack, and that includes you.
Pretty Girl: But am I truly safe with Slate? I haven’t actually met him. You know that, right?
It had to be said, especially now that I knew exactly what creature he shared his soul with.
Slade: You are perfectly safe. I do this favor for my brothers.
Wait. What? He’d left the fucking chat.
Golden Boy: You left the chat, bro?? How are you still in here? I should have to add you back because I created it.
*Slade has left the conversation*
Daddy Alpha: If it’s electronic, Slade can control it. Don’t ask how he does, just accept that he can.
I’d forgotten that terrifying tidbit about him, but at least he’d confirmed, in writing—for what it was worth—that he wasn’t planning on murdering me today.
It would have to do.
Pretty Girl: What should I wear tonight? Is this your typical dress sexy nightclub? Or is there a uniform?
The next two messages delivered at the same time.
Golden Boy: Sexy!
Daddy Alpha: Do not dress sexy! I don’t have time to be killing anyone.
Daddy Alpha: There’s no uniform, but the staff tend to dress in all black. They’ll provide the rest.
Black I could do.
Golden Boy: See you tonight, Shortcake. I’ll be the one tipping big so you can flash me that smile.
