Page 124 of Wolf's Reckoning
Or maybe she had.
“What now?” I asked, voice low, even, not attempting to hide my fatigue.
She didn’t move. “You made a lot of decisions today.”
“I made necessary ones.”
“Without talking all of them through with me.”
I shrugged. “You weren’t there. Too busy sulking in the shadows.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t sulking. You didn’t ask for me to join you.”
I yawned as I walked past her, heading for the shower. “I didn’t need to. If you wanted to be part of it, we both know you would have been.”
She followed me. “That’s not how this is supposed to work.”
“No,” I said, stopping and looking over my shoulder. “But it’s how you’re making it. If you want to change it, make more effort.”
The space between us pulsed like it always did—charged, unspoken, unfinished. And her eyes, Goddess, her eyes…they weren’t angry. Not really. They were wary. Watching. Measuring.
“You’re good at it,” she said quietly, changing tactics, becoming softer.
“Being alpha?”
“Taking control.” Her voice remained low. “The pack listens to you.”
“So they should,” I told her, finding a clean towel. “That’s the point.”
“And where does that leave me?”
I turned back to her then. “You tell me.” I shook my head slightly. “I can’t keep having this conversation with you, Rowen.”
I saw the flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. Maybe even hurt.
“I never came here to inherit a pack, Rowen,” I said, voice lower now. “But theyaremy pack now, and I’m not going to let them fall apart because you’re still pissed at me. You want to lead? Lead. But you leadwithme. Not against me.”
A breath passed between us. Her expression shifted—less war, more weathered steel. “I don’t want you to be the one who fixes this.”
“Tough,” I said bluntly. “It’s my duty as alpha, and I don’t care anymore if you like it or not, but you can’t keep resenting me for doing it.”
She stepped back, not retreating, just…choosing space.
“You smell like pine and politics,” she muttered.
“I smell like your pack.”
“You mean ours,” she corrected sharply and walked away before I could reply, disappearing down the hall toward the front of the house. I didn’t know if she was staying or leaving.
I didn’t hear the door open, so I assumed she was staying. That was progress. Maybe. Plus, I was fed up with chasing her; it didn’t make a difference when I caught her anyway.
In the bathroom, I shed my shorts and stepped underthe spray of water, closing my eyes as warm water cascaded over me, and I let out a sigh.
When I was finished, I dressed in loose sweatpants and walked down the hallway. I didn’t stomp. I didn’t puff out my chest like some walking testosterone parade. I just walked. Quietly. Like the predator I was.
I leaned against the wall, much like she had done when I came home, and watched her as she sat on the couch, arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the night like it had answers she couldn’t find in me.
“You always lurk like this?” she asked without looking at me.
