Dame’s jaw twinges as he clenches his teeth, a clear request for Kitty to shut the fuck up. But I can already see she’s preparing to fight him on it. In defense of her “pack sister,” I suppose. But I’m not interested in getting sucked into some weird pack politics, so I bow out before she can argue.
“It’s alright,” I say, positioning myself between them. “I don’t want to know.”
Kitty’s arms cross, as do Dame’s, and I laugh at them as we climb the steps to Crescent House.
It’s busy tonight. Then again, Crescent House is always busy. If there isn’t a party, there’s a pack meeting. And if there isn’t a pack meeting, there’s a potluck. They tend to gather for just about any occasion, as is the way with wolves.
We pass about fifteen people just on the way to the common room, all of them chatting and laughing and pretending not to look at me.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t mind the noise and the traffic, but I’m particular about where I feed. I prefer someplace quiet and secluded, away from the public but also not at their place, and absolutelyneverat mine. That only leaves me with a few options, and I’ve taken great care to find my favorite spots over the years.
The potions lab. The observatory. The archive.
I’ve never strayed from them before today.
After our incident, Elliot insisted that we meet at Crescent House, labeling it a “controlled environment.”
I tried to dissuade him, promised I was fine until I was blue in the face, even agreed never to visit the archive again, but he wouldn’t hear it. He swore that Crescent House could be just as quiet and secluded as any other place on campus. Which I find hard to believe.
In the end, Elliot proposed a simple arrangement.
We would meet at Crescent House, but if his controlled environment proved a failure and anyone so much as glanced in my direction, he would owe me 50 drac.
So I pay close attention to the eyes that pass as Kitty, and I drop our bags in the common room.
She tosses a log on the fire before settling into one of the big leather armchairs and curling up in her seat. Dame breaks off to head for the kitchen, and I make myself comfortable on one of the sofas across from Kitty. It’s one of those big, plush sofas that swallows you when you sit, and I sink deep into the cushions, watching the flames dance as we wait for Dame to return with a few drinks.
When he comes back, he’s carrying a brew and two sodas in one hand, and a family-sized bag of chips in the other. He crashes down unceremoniously beside me, jostling the cushions and thwacking me in the shins with his tail.
“Oops, sorry,” he mutters as he pops the tab on my drink and hands it to me.
He does the same for Kitty before ripping open the bag and preparing to eat half of it in a single sitting. At Dame’s size, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could eat the whole bag in the next five minutes.
He offers me a few, but I decline, checking the time instead.
“He’s in the back office,” Dame says, words muffled by his chewing.
“What?”
“Elliot,” he clarifies. “You’re looking for him, right?”
“No. I mean, yeah, but?—”
“He’s finishing the paperwork to challenge the inquiry. He should be down in a few minutes.”
Challenge the inquiry?
I didn’t know that was something you could do.
I nod and decide to take him up on his offer while I wait. Though by the time I reach my hand into the bag, there’s only a handful left.
He clicks on the TV hanging over the fireplace and finds something none of us are really watching, but I nevertheless feel a streak of irritation run through me as we are interrupted.
“Hi,” a deep voice calls from over my shoulder.
I turn, a snarl already fixed on my face, and beside me, Dame’s ears perk as he shifts to face our intruder.
“Oh.” The young wolf in front of me takes a step back, glancing between Dame and me. “My bad. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
