Hastings sat at the head of the table, ready for work but his suit jacket was off, and his shirt sleeves rolled up. His gray eyes found the mark on my neck immediately, and something dark and possessive flashed across his face before he shuttered it.
Fritz was to his right, coffee cup halfway to his lips, his sandy blond hair mussed like he'd been running his hands through it. His gaze tracked over me slowly, lingering on my neck. “Morning Presley.”
I smiled. “Morning.”
“How are you feeling?” Etienne asked, giving me a boyish grin.
“Fine. Thank you.”
“You look beautiful. Glowing. Maybe you’re already pregnant. You must eat.” Etienne picked up his fork and pierced the bacon he’d just cut.
I swallowed and crossed to the table, taking the empty seat opposite Hastings and between Fritz and Etienne.
No one spoke.
The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until Fritz finally broke it.
"How are you really feeling?" His voice was gentle, but there was an edge to it.
"Honestly. I’m fine." I reached for the butter, needing something to do with my hands. I grabbed a piece of toastfrom the rack and smeared butter over it with more force than necessary. "I need the helicopter."
Fritz laughed.
"What?" Hastings' voice was sharp, almost panicked.
As I looked at him, I felt his fear spike through the bond. He thought I was leaving. Running.
"I need to visit Maeve," I said quickly. "She's upset about something, and I need to find out what it is."
The fear eased, replaced by something that felt like relief.
"I'll take you," Hastings said, already starting to stand.
"I'll be fine." I took a bite of toast, forcing myself to chew and swallow even though it tasted like cardboard. "I just need a lift. I'll be back before dinner."
"Absolutely not." Hastings leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "You're not going to North Yorkshire alone."
"Why not?"
"Because alphas will be able to smell you. Because—" He stopped, his jaw working. "Because I won't let you go alone."
"I'm not a prisoner."
"I didn't say you were."
"Then why can't I go by myself?"
Fritz set down his coffee cup. "He's right, Liebling. You need security. At least let Hastings or one of us come with you."
I sighed. "I don't need a bodyguard to visit my friend."
"You're part of this pack now," Fritz said gently. "We look after what is ours."
"I don't belong to anyone." The words came out sharper than I intended, and all three of them flinched.
Through the bond, Hastings' fear intensified.
"That's not what I meant," Fritz said carefully. "I just meant—"
