Page 23 of Ruthless Reign

I'll make my own coffee—thank you very much. How hard can it be to work a little machine?

I grab a clean mug, fetching a pod from the box. I try to pretend not to notice Cade's close proximity as he lingers behind, watching. His scent is still overwhelming, a tug in my stomach as I feel the dreaded mate bond trying to pull me to him.

Shoving the pod into the top of the machine, I place the mug underneath, eyeing the buttons closely.

"It's this one," he mutters, reaching over my shoulder to point out the correct button.

"Yeah, yeah," I mumble, hitting the button a little too roughly. The machine whirls to life, and my stomach lets out a groan of appreciation as the smell of fresh coffee fills the room, temporarily blockinghisscent.

He's still standing close behind me, and I resist the urge to jam my elbow into his stomach. I wonder if he senses my train of thought, because he quickly takes a step back, hovering for a few more seconds before returning to his desk.

With my freshly filled mug, I turn back around, gripping it like a weapon. Cade gives a nod to Sawyer, who understands the silent command, exiting the room. The door closes behind him, leaving us alone.

"Feel free to take a seat," Cade says, motioning to the ones in front of the desk. "Or don't," He laughs. "Completely up to you."

I narrow my eyes at his light-hearted joke, but sit down, clinging to the boiling hot mug.

"I imagine you have many questions," he starts, hitting a few keys on his keyboard.

"Sure," I agree. "When can I leave?"

His lips curve into a smile. "Any other questions?"

"What's the point of asking if you're not going to answer?" I shoot back.

Cade's blue eyes flicker over to me for a second before returning back to the screen. "Perhaps you could try to ask a more productive one. Are you always this defensive in the mornings?"

"Just to the people who kidnap me."

A laugh bubbles out of his mouth, fingers seemingly typing a message on the computer. When he doesn't answer, I shake my head, glancing around the office.

It's tidy—much like the rest of the house. There's a mahogany bookcase along the far wall next to the espresso machine, but it's the photographs on another shelf that grab my attention. Rows of captured memories fill the shelves, and Cade is easy to recognize in many of the pictures. But there's multiple other people in the photographs who aren't familiar. Judging by the way they are all comfortable—hugging and posing happily—I assume they are family pictures.

On the other side of the office, there's a series of black and white portraits on the wall. There's no people in these ones, just a common object—the moon. I frown as I look at them, recognizing the different stages of a lunar cycle. There's a picture of a full moon, a crescent moon, a solar and lunar eclipse, and a new moon.

What interests me even more is behind his desk in the corner, there's a telescope. It's pointed out of the large bay windows behind him, indicating that his celestial hobby takes place in this room.

Once again, I'm baffled by the fact that they seemdecent.And finally, with that thought in mind, a question spills out of my mouth.

"You mentioned that you took me because you wanted to see if I was your mate," I start, watching as he pauses his typing to face me. "But yesterday, your pack asked which one I was. So, obviously I'm not the first person you've taken. Why is that?"

"I don't understand what you are asking," he answers. "Are you asking why we have brought new wolves to our pack? Or are you specifically interested in why I wanted to meet you?"

I growl in frustration. "You make it sound amicable. If you wanted to meet me, why didn't you just contact Alpha Daxton?"

"Because he never would have agreed to it," he answers simply. "Or Alpha Lex."

I notice he doesn't mention Maverick, and it makes me feel uncomfortable for some reason. But I ignore that feeling, circling back to my original question. "Why hunt and kidnap wolves?" I demand sharply. "It doesn't make much sense from what I've seen."

"What you've seen…" he repeats, curiously. "And what have you seen exactly?"

Gripping my mug tightly with my right hand, I throw my left one up in exasperation. "This," I say, gesturing to the photographs. "Normalcy, structure. I expected…"

"Barbarians?" he answers with amusement.

I nod. "Exactly! I'm struggling to understand what your motive is—or your intentions."

"Oh, I see," Cade responds, deep in thought. "You think we're the hunters that have been targeting packs."

---