Page 89 of Heroes & Hitmen
“Miles,” he greets in a clipped tone as he sweeps past me into the apartment, surveying the interior with the same eye he uses for boardroom takeovers and pack meetings.
My guard immediately slams up, heart beating out of rhythm as my mind spins to piece together what could have possibly brought him here. The man never set foot in my last apartment– notoncein the entire three years I lived there. So, his sudden appearance at this one is more than a little unsettling.
Is he looking for some clue that this is all a lie?
Did we leave something lying around that could tip him off?
Or is this about what happened at the preserve yesterday…
My brain rapid-fires through a litany of worst-case-scenarios as Alpha strides into the living room, his disapproving gaze flicking over the rumpled blanket on the sofa and my romance novel tossed haphazardly on the coffee table. Then he pivots back in my direction, and when those assessing eyes land on me, I feel fourteen again. Awkward and braced for correction. I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep my composure, resisting the urge to smooth my hair or tuck in my t-shirt.
“I wasn’t expecting visitors,” I say dryly, which is code foryou didn’t call, so what the hell do you want?
He nods once, a faint smile ghosting across his mouth. “Clearly.”
Dickhead.
“Ares isn’t here,” I add, assuming that’s who he’s really here to see since he’s never paid me a personal visit in the past.
“I know,” he replies, folding his arms over his chest. “I sent him on an errand. I wanted to speak with you privately.”
My pulse skitters. “Okay…”
He steps over to the couch, unbuttoning his suit jacket and dropping down in the center like he owns the place– which I guess technically, he does. I move into the room and lower myself onto the far edge of the coffee table across from him, one foot planted on the floor and the other perched on the frame like I’m ready to bolt.
Let’s be honest, I totally am.
He sits with the confidence of a man who’s never been told no, leaning back with one ankle draped over his knee and his arms spread wide over the backs of the cushions. His posture is casual, but everything about him radiates threat. He could snap my neck with the single flick of a wrist, and both of us know it.
For a long moment, neither of us speaks, and the tension grows so thick that it’s hard to even breathe. Then, he finally says, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”
I try to play it casual, inclining my chin and cocking my head to the side. “I assume you want something.”
He almost smiles again.Almost.
“You always were the sharp one,” he remarks, but I doubt he means that as a compliment. He swipes a hand over his chin, a frown pulling at his lips. “Ares is still refusing to submit for his procedure.”
My stomach lurches, but I school my features into neutral. “So?”
“So, I’d appreciate it if you could convince him to comply,” he replies, tone smooth as glass. “It would make things much easier for both of you. And the pack.”
There’s an implied‘or else’hanging between every word.
I look down, tracing a swirl on the wood grain with my thumb. “Things are different where he’s from,” I murmur. “He’s not… accustomed to the way we do things here.”
Alpha watches me for another beat, then exhales a shallow breath. “I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here, do I?” he asks, but of course, it’s rhetorical. “Your absence at the last full moon ceremony caused quite a stir. There were whispers of pack members questioning your loyalty. Questioningmyleadership.”
“And I’m sure you silenced them quickly and efficiently,” I mutter.
“Of course,” he quips, lifting his chin with pride. “But it’s imperative that this upcoming ceremony goes smoothly. For the good of the pack.”
For the good ofhim, he means.
“Absolutely,” I reply with a tight nod, the part of me that wants to survive doing exactly as it’s told, while the part of me that wants to flip him off and tell him where he can shove his pack politics dies a quick, silent death.
“And part of the ceremony going smoothly means conducting it as we always do, sealing the bond with our usual method for efficiency,” he tacks on.
“Understood,” I say, clasping my hands together to hide the tremble in them. Something about the energy radiating off him chills me to my core, my wolf pressing forward as my fight or flight instinct kicks in. “I’ll talk to him.”
