Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 112089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
I laughed again. My parents’ visit had clearly scarred him.
Taking a deep breath, I set the mugs on the counter and saw that the table had been set. Given we almost always sat at the island, this was unusual.
I quirked an eyebrow at Austin.
He refilled one of the mugs. “I thought the table might ground you more,” he said by way of explanation. He motioned me toward it.
I didn’t budge, waiting for the real reason.
If controlling his expressions weren’t part of his role as alpha, he’d absolutely be giving me a sheepish grin right now. “I can’t hear Mr. Tom and Edgar bickering as well from the table.”
“Hmm,” I said noncommittally, a smile threatening, then took a seat. “Was my discussion with my crew just now how your meetings with your advisors go?”
He snorted. “My territory would be in a world of hurt if that’s how my meetings went.”
He lowered a plate in front of me. Eggs Benedict took up the center focus, the sauce whipped up to perfection. Chives provided a pop of green against the glistening, lemon-colored sauce. Fresh fruit was clustered to the side, far enough away that none of the pooling liquid touched it. I was weird about food touching on my plate unless it was supposed to, like a child. Another plate held two sausage links bathed in maple syrup and crispy hash browns beside a glop of ketchup.
“Wow,” I said, picking up my knife and fork and just looking over everything.
He took his seat next to me at the round table, a setup that allowed him to watch my reaction to each bite. He loved seeing me enjoy his handiwork.
“A Sunday morning breakfast on a Tuesday? What’s the occasion?” I cut into the egg and was rewarded with the delicate ooze of yolk over the Canadian bacon and down to the fluffy English muffin below it. “My God, you are good at cooking. The egg is perfect.”
His smile was soft as he watched me pop the bite into my mouth. After that, I lost track of him as my eyes drifted shut of their own accord and the flavors exploded across my tongue.
“You need fuel for your challenge later this morning,” he said, and nervousness fluttered in my belly at the reminder. Austin had been challenged plenty of times, but this would be my first. “Magical creatures who shift require more sustenance than those who don’t.”
“If it were anyone else’s cooking, I’d be too nervous to eat.” I cut another bite. “But it would be a pity to let this go to waste.”
He chuckled softly before attacking his own meal. “Can I speak to you about Kingsley or should we…wait?” he asked.
Nervousness was replaced by another swirl of anger and motivation—the urge to inhale this meal and take to the sky. To go to war.
My spinning emotions, like a disco ball of violence, were exhausting. They were so much worse since the mating. Or since Elliot Graves’s meeting, at least. It was like the gargoyle within me had fully woken and now wanted a reign of terror.
“It’s fine,” I replied.
Austin nodded as he speared a piece of sausage. He didn’t share my love of coating them in maple syrup. “Kingsley forwarded an email detailing a mage attack on a smaller pack. The pack wasn’t completely wiped out, but they were essentially chased off their land.”
“Another one?” I asked, because that had been increasingly happening. We had a lot of people in our territory who had lost their homes to something like that. They’d come here looking for a safe haven.
“Yes. It doesn’t sound like Momar, though. Too small-scale. I think instead that mages are taking the cue from Momar and seizing desirable land. Or maybe they’re just flexing their power. I haven’t had a chance to look over the report in detail yet.”
“If it doesn’t sound like Momar or relate to Kingsley’s situation, then why did he send it?”
Austin looked at me silently for a moment. “It’s his subtle way of saying we have to work together and push back against the mages.”
“He already tried to unite everyone, though. It didn’t work.”
“He was initially met with resistance, correct. Alphas are used to making the rules. If someone wants leadership over them, they expect to be challenged. Kingsley wasn’t trying to structure the league in that way, though. He wanted to organize it more like a company, with a board of directors and someone like a CEO.”
“Right, right,” I said, remembering talking about this here and there. With mages, gargoyles, and shifters, there were a lot of balls in the air. “They all wanted the big role.”
“Yep. And while most of them didn’t dare challenge Kingsley, knowing he’d dominate, a few are on his power scale. They were ready to challenge for placement. He was trying to decide how to best navigate it when the mage attacks on shifters started ramping up. At that point, the shifters realized Kingsley’s logic made an awful lot of sense. It was too late, though. Packs started falling—especially the ones willing to work with Kingsley.”