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I forced my breath to slow before I hyperventilated. I had to stay alert.
“Flor?” Brand’s deep voice interrupted my growing panic. “I made you a plate.” I didn’t look at him, but a plate piled overfull with steak, only steak, landed in front of me, splashing the tablecloth with juices.
For a moment, his massive form blocked out every other diner in the room, and I could pretend they weren’t there. That I was safe.
“You don’t like steak?”
He sounded so distressed, I grinned up at him. “I haven’t ever had a whole one.” I gestured at the plate; it was enough meat to feed me for a month, easily. “And that’s a lot of steak for one gal.”
He grumbled and sat in his chair, which creaked like it might crumple under his bulk. “You need feeding up. As much steak as you can manage. You can go back for green things later, right?” He sounded so awkward, uncomfortable. I watched him hesitate over the forks, like he didn’t know which one to pick up either. I dared a longer look at him.
He was seven feet tall, wearing a too-tight dress shirt and a tie that both looked like they might pop open at any moment. His long dark hair had been pulled back in a rubber band at his nape, and he was blushing red above his short, trimmed beard.
He was adorable.
“Thanks,” I told him, and gently laid my hand over his. A strange warmth moved through me, like a heater had come on right behind our chairs. My skin warmed where our hands met, and the smell of him—pine and woodsmoke and wild berries—enveloped me. I closed my eyes, confused, and let myself breathe it, taste it. I moaned, wishing that there was some way I could hold that scent inside me forever, that I never had to exhale.
“Um, Flor?” Brand’s deep voice had gone oddly squeaky.
My eyes popped open. Oh, Mother Moon.
I’d moaned.
At the dining table.
I shot a terrified glance at the rest of the guests. Glen and Finnick were grinding their teeth, for some reason. Margarette and Alpha Hillier seemed concerned, staring at their food like it was a physics problem.
Down the table, though, a colossal giant of a man who could only be Brand’s father was looking right at me. His long beard was messy and much thicker, his dark eyes far less warm, and he was probably the wildest shifter I’d ever seen. You could sense his wolf, as if he was ready to shift at any point—wanted to shift, even—and would tear out as many throats as he needed to get back to the wilderness.
I watched, mortified, as one corner of his harsh mouth turned up. And he winked.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, whipping my hand away and stuffing a small piece of steak into my mouth. I figured I should eat fast, since someone would almost definitely ask me to leave after my show of unranked table manners.
“Don’t apologize,” Brand’s father boomed. I noted that, unlike the other well-dressed guys at the table, he had on a plaid long-sleeved shirt and jeans. They probably didn’t make suits in his size. “I like a girl who appreciates her food.”
With that, he had given me an out, and I took it. “That’s me, super hungry.” For some reason, that made a few of the Enforcers cough, and Finnick blush as hard as Brand had. Whatever. “I’ve never had meat like this before, though. It’s amazing.” I sawed off a huge hunk of steak and shoved it in my mouth. There. If I couldn’t make sounds, or talk, I couldn’t embarrass myself any further, right?
Next to me, Brand wasn’t eating. He just sat there with a ridiculous grin on his face, running his fingers over the spot on his left hand where I’d touched.
“You okay?” I asked through my chewed-up steak.
He just nodded, eyes glued to his food like he was memorizing it. His blush had gotten even deeper, moving down his neck under his too-tight collar. My hand itched to touch him again, to feel that heat, whatever it was.
I kept my mouth shut for the rest of dinner—shut and filled with amazing food. I had a feeling the others were covertly watching me, but I was too hungry to care. I should have eaten slowly, but I couldn’t. Who knew when I would ever see this much meat again? If only I could take it with me.
Wait. A thought bubbled up. I might not be able to sneak steak out—any shifter would smell it and steal it away—but I might be able to get away with something else.
When I was sure no one was watching, I slipped a sturdy steak knife under my shirt, tucking it into my waistband at the back. With that one movement, I felt safer, even here in the Pack House.
Silverware didn’t count as a weapon at Southern, so I didn’t feel too bad. I wasn’t sure who in the Alpha’s house I could trust, and I wasn’t sure how long it would be before Margarette took me away.
Hell, I didn’t know if the Hunt was still on. I wouldn’t put it past Trevor and his gang to use the other packs’ presence as a distraction. I needed to go.
“Thanks for the meal. It was an, uh, unexpected treat to get to sit with all y’all… Wait.” I peered up and down the table, suddenly realizing Luke was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s Luke?”
“He’s healing. He’s… having a difficult time, with his existing injury,” Brand answered, and weirdly, a sob suddenly worked its way out of my throat.
I had no reason to feel guilty, but I had a feeling running away from this room would be easier than escaping the raw emotions that scoured me inside as I stood. “I gotta go.”
