“It’s reassuring that you have that,” Marcus says, his tone more serious now. “Pack alliances are easier when those involved are capable of forming genuine friendships.”
I smile. “You think a genuine friendship can develop between our packs, then?”
“I do,” he admits. “Alpha Steele doesn’t do anything he doesn’t believe in. If he’s pursuing this merger, it’s because he sincerely thinks it’ll benefit both packs.”
“It’s reassuring how trusting you all seem of your alpha,” I reply.
They all nod.
“He really likes competent people, too, so working with him is easy if you know what you’re doing,” Thomas adds.
“I look forward to working with him,” I say honestly.
“He’ll probably be very impressed with you,” Sarah tells me. “I have to admit I was surprised to meet the head of your division and find her to be someone so young.”
“Yeah! That’s so true,” Marcus smiles as he chimes in. “You must be very skilled.”
I blush. “Thank you. But tell me more about Silvercrest…”
The discussion shifts to how things work in their pack. Given my new role, I should pay closer attention, but the champagne is making my thoughts fuzzy, and I’m content to simply listen to the easy flow of conversation.
Sarah is in the middle of explaining Silvercrest’s training protocols when I realize I need to use the bathroom.
I stand up—maybe a little too quickly. The room tilts slightly, and I grip the back of my chair to steady myself.
“You okay?” Sarah asks, concerned.
“Fine,” I assure her with a bright smile. “Just need to find the ladies’ room. Be right back.”
I navigate through the party with careful steps, hyper-aware of each foot placement. Not drunk, just tipsy. There’s a difference, and I’m still on the right side of that line, although I am a bit wobbly.
The main floor bathroom has a line of three women waiting outside it. I vaguely recognize them as Moonvale pack members,but my champagne-addled brain can’t pull up their names right now.
But my friend is the luna, so I know this house. There’s another bathroom upstairs in the guest wing.
I head for the grand staircase, gripping the banister perhaps more firmly than is typically necessary. The noise of the party fades as I climb, and the hallway at the top is dimmer, quieter, and blessedly peaceful after the buzz of voices below.
The upstairs bathroom is, thankfully, empty. I take care of business, then spend too long staring at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright and happy. I look exactly like someone who just got the promotion of her dreams.
I splash some cold water on my wrists, trying to clear my head a bit. I should probably switch to water for the rest of the evening. Or at least slow down on the champagne before I do something embarrassing.
The hallway is quiet when I step out. I pause, getting my bearings in the low light. I need to go left to go back to the stairs; right leads deeper into the private wing where Darius and Violet’s bedroom is.
I turn left and take three steps before I collide with something solid.
Someone solid, that is.
Strong hands grip my shoulders, catching me before I can fall backward. The touch sends electricity racing across my skin, every nerve ending suddenly awake and screaming in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“Sorry, I—” The words die in my throat. Everything inside me goes absolutely still.
The man in front of me looks to be in his mid- to late thirties. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing an expensive black suit that fits him perfectly. His hair is dark, slightly silver at the temples. A birthmark, maybe? His face is all sharp angles and hard lines,handsome in a severe, intimidating way that makes my breath catch.
But it’s his eyes that pin me in place. Dark brown, almost black, and currently staring at me with an expression I can’t read.
His scent fills my nostrils, coffee baked over burning wood.
I already think he is incredibly sexy.
