I laugh. “Mmm, I guess not. I am concerned about the party.”
“That’s right!” Katie says, eyes lighting up. “Jasper’s annual birthday ball. I can’t believe we’re both going this year!”
My shoulders slump forward. “Yeah.”
Jasper’s birthday isn’t just a familial affair. The whole pack celebrates the birth of the alpha’s son and every year a big event is held in his honor. It’s basically like a national holiday, only for werewolves.
“You’re not excited?”
“It’s just, since Jasper and I have been together properly we’ve barely seen each other, and he’s only in town for a week. A lot of that time is already booked up with meetings his father wants him to attend. We only have so much time, and the one night it would have been nice to do something just the two of us, we have to spend it with the crusty upper class of the Elite Pack. It’s not exactly romantic.”
“It’s nice though that he wants you there. It’ll be your first official appearance in front of the pack. It’s a big deal.”
“I suppose.” I take a long, deep breath and watch as the final strokes of paint cover up the red lettering. The word is gone. But I can’t help repeating it over and over again in my mind.Traitor.It’s scrawled on the back of my eyelids just like it was on the door. Is that what people think of me? Is that what the pack thinks of me? “I’ll tell you who is excited about being invited to their first big pack event.”
Katie leans over the arm of her chair excitedly. “Who?”
“Them.” I point in the direction of Mom and Dad, who have just appeared in the open doorway of the house, coming out to appraise the boys’ handiwork.
Katie squeals a little. “Cute!”
“Attending my first official event as the mate of the alpha’s son and my parents are coming…I can’t wait.”
Spring break rolls around, thankfully without another incident like Graffitigate, as I’ve taken to calling it. The last few weeks Jasper has been especially hard to reach, torn between exams, finishing up papers, and traveling to meet with more pack dignitaries—lately he’s been focusing on the five small packs along our southern border.
Even though Jasper hasn’t wanted to out of fear it’ll induce another migraine attack, I’ve tried a few times to access the mind-link. With no success. Each time I close my eyes to focus on my blood-wolf connection, exploring the endless sea of consciousness, I wind up clutching my head and groaning into my pillow. The dull headache that follows has become a constant companion. I might be holding up the aspirin market single-handedly.
As I wait for the elevator to arrive on the sixty-eighth story of the packhouse, where Jericho—and therefore Jasper’s—city apartment is located, I rub my temple and close my eyes, hoping my last hit of painkillers will kick in any minute.
The doors ping open and I wander out into a large living area. The floors are black marble, which reflects the view of Manhattan shining in through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows.
By the elevator is a black grand piano with an oversized vase and an explosive bouquet of tropical flowers erupting from it in a plume of bright colors. In front of me, a set of perfectly white sofas are arranged around a large stone coffee table and white rug. This place looks like a display home, like no one actually lives here. Beyond the sofas is a long dining table, a slab of white marble long enough to sit twelve or thirteen guests at least. Artwork hangs on the walls opposite the windows. One looks like a bona fide Monet and one I think is a Pollock, the abstract squiggly lines reminding me of the red tendrils that represent each wolf in my mind.
“Max!” Jodie comes bounding from a doorway between the two paintings, dressed like a princess. She wraps her little arms around my waist and I hug her back.
“Hey Jodie, it’s nice to see you.”
“You too. You know you don’t have to wait for Jasper to come home to visit.”
“I know. I’m sorry. You excited for the party?”
She steps back, scrunching up her face. “Not really. It’ll probably be boring like all the others. I’d rather you and Jasper just hung out with me here.”
“You don’t have any friends coming?”
“Just Jessica and Mandy from school, but they’ll probably want to talk about boys the whole time.” On the wordboysshe rolls her eyes like she couldn’t think of anything less interesting.
“Ugh, that sounds lame,” I say, very aware of just how boy obsessed I’ve been for the last nine months.
“It’s very lame,” she says.
“What’s lame?” I glance up to find Jasper, leaning ever so casually next to the Pollock, looking crazy handsome in a sleek new suit, his hair slicked back, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Boys,” I shoot straight back at him.
“Uh, yes,” he nods, grinning at me. “Boys. The lamest.”
I can’t help grinning back at him. After three months of not seeing him in person, taking in the sight of him feels like coming up for air. My teeth vibrate with giddy excitement, my legs are immediately a couple of gelatinous poles, wobbling all over the place, my chest swings open like a cuckoo clock, my heart pounds.
