Page 76 of Campfires & Canines
I chew my cheek, trying to think.
"The only way I can keep you safe is by keeping you with me," he reasons. "If you're mine, no one else will touch you."
"You sound a lot like your brother right now," I say.
He scowls.
"Have you met him?" I have to know. I can't imagine Slate and Jasper in the same room, but surely the packs have met up at some point.
"We've been introduced," he says coolly. "He wasn't a fan."
I can't help but smile. "He is a bit intense sometimes."
He scoffs. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I miss him,” I say. Jasper ignores my comment and checks his watch.
“We should get ready for dinner. I’ll have to grab a dress from Ember for you.”
“I’d prefer not.”
“Again, not optional. I’ll be back in a bit.”
13. Dinner Distress
Hazel
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter under my breath as he leads me up the stairs with a hand on the small of my back.
Ember’s dress is black at least, but it’s about three sizes too small, showing off the rolls of my stomach and cutting into the skin under my arms. But it was mandatory apparently.
“You look fine,” Jasper says.
I glare at him. “Fine?”
“Yeah.”
“If you thought I looked decent, you’d say good. Fine means you agree it’s awful.”
Jasper grinds his teeth, his jaw shifting. He tilts his head towards me. “Is this your biggest concern right now?”
I take a beatbefore responding, “Fine.”
He rolls his eyes and we step from the hallway into a dining room. The house’s aesthetic seems to be modern luxe meets mob boss. It’s cavernous and cold.
A black dining table large enough for fourteen stretches the length of the room with three bulbous chandeliers reflecting on its polished surface.
The table is set for five. Everything is fancy, from the crystal wine glasses to the gleaming silverware. Including knives. They’re confident I’m already submissive.
Sienna stands at the window, looking out at the sunset. She turns and sips the red wine in her hand while judging my appearance.
“Glad you’re here. Come sit down.” Her voice is silky sweet, like corn syrup covering up poison.
She settles at the seat to the right of the head of the table. Jasper heads towards the other side and pulls out the second seat for me, leaving the spot across from Sienna for himself.
“Lovely,” Sienna says. Her skimpy dress shows off matching sets of pale scars. Claim marks. One from Slate’s dad, and one from Ferris. Nausea washes over me.
The alpha strides in, followed by a teenager with short reddish hair and an upturned nose.
