Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
In the back of the group, usually silent and reserved until it was time for action, Nova slowly raised her hand. “You shifted before Aurelia’s power dimmed. You pulled that animal close to the surface and it took a bit before it slipped back. I’d bet anything it was struggling to get the rest of the way out.”
“It had to be,” I affirmed.
“She would’ve felt that struggle. She might not know exactly what it is, but she’ll know something isn’t right.”
“And if that animal spoke . . .” Dante quirked a brow. “You might be in for a rough ride, Alpha. She won’t be pleased if she knows what’s up.”
There was no telling how she’d react. Or if she’d even figure it out. All he could do was wait and watch.
Chapter 21
Weston
Ileft the others to put things away or get back to their defensive positions while I shifted back into wolf form and checked in with the sentries. Still, no one had seen or smelled anything.
With my people accounted for and the borders of our encampment solid, I returned to the center where people had congregated for food. Delicious scents wafted over the clearing, much more complex than was usual around dinner time.
Everyone sat around various fires, relaxing after a long day’s ride. Soon we’d need to do without fires, to avoid advertising our whereabouts. For now, we’d soak in the luxury.
Sylvester stood beside his preparation table, soup ladle at the ready next to an empty bowl. It was customary for the pack to wait for me to be ready, ensuring that everything was seen to. I nodded at him as I approached, reaching for the bowl and following him to the first pot simmering over the flames.
He ladled the contents in, filling it up.
I paused. “Only half is fine until everyone has eaten, same as always.”
“Yes, Alpha, it’s only . . .” He cleared his throat. “I had help tonight, and Aurelia was able to stretch the ingredients into a larger amount of food. I have no idea how—it’s the same ingredients—but . . . we have plenty. We might even have enough for seconds.”
I glanced back to where she was sitting with Hadriel, a wine glass in hand, her eyes heavily hooded. Something—the drug or the alcohol—had gotten a hold of her. Even still, her eyes were rooted to me, her gaze pensive.
Nervousness stole through me that she was working out what had happened at the supply crates.
I nodded at Sylvester before turning away from the table. Usually, I’d remove myself to the outskirts of the gathering, eating in solitude while watching the pack, on hand in case anyone needed to talk something out or voice concerns, but not stressing them out with my presence. It was hard to relax when in the vicinity of a commander.
This time, though, I headed for Aurelia. I told myself it was because I needed to stay close to her in case the enemy attacked. Or to monitor her because of the stunt my wolf had pulled. The truth was, though, that I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her proximity. To hear the sound of her voice. I couldn’t prevent myself from sinking down beside her near the main fire in the middle of the pack.
She glanced over when I did, and a rush of joy flashed across her face a moment before her brow lowered and frustration dulled the sparkle in her eyes. Our connection, our chemistry, versus reality.
“Come on, my darling, let’s get some grub.” Hadriel plucked at her arm to get her to stand up.
“Oh no, it’s okay. I’ll wait until everyone has some.”
“Nonsense. You helped make it. They’re probably all wondering if you poisoned them. You’d best show them you didn’t.”
Usually Sylvester would take his next, as the cook. Surprisingly, he let Aurelia go first, stepping in before Hadriel could go after. The rest of the pack looked on, probably confused by the fact that a prisoner was not only helping cook the meal but getting priority in eating it.
“Slap a tit, Aurelia, this is delicious!” Hadriel groaned and leaned back, face pointed at the sky. “Fucking hell.” He leaned forward again, his attention focused on the contents in the bowl.
It was delicious. Not as good as the stew in her little cottage, but certainly the best camp dish I’d ever had. I’d bet most of the pack felt the same. Soon sounds of groaning drifted over to us as people nodded, looking at their food. Chatter died down and the only sound was that of wooden spoons scraping against bowls.
“It needs a little something,” Aurelia murmured, only halfway through hers by the time Hadriel and I had finished. “Well, I mean, it needs a bunch of stuff, but I missed the mark on spices.”
“Rubbish.” Hadriel shook his head. “It’s delicious. I want more.”