Page 35 of Gunnar

His eyes lift to me.

“You been out already.”

I take another drink of coffee. “Yeah.”

Torin leans back against the counter, watching with open enjoyment. “Went for a little jog,” he says.

Orson looks between the two of us, unimpressed.

Then his gaze lands back on me. “You been acting weird since she showed up.”

Torin snorts. “Weird is generous.”

I ignore them both and open the fridge.

Orson crosses his arms.

“What’s the plan today?”

“Pretty sure the plan was rabbits and coffee,” Torin says.

“I mean with her.”

“Keep your voice down, she’s still asleep,” I snap.

Orson bares his teeth. “Then she should wake up. This isn’t a damn guesthouse.”

Torin barks a short laugh. “That’s funny,” he says. “Because someone paid us five grand to keep her here.”

“I wonder how much more it’s gonna cost us when we’re done.”

“Enough,” I growl. “Alexandria staying here is non-negotiable.”

Orson’s lip curls. “Yeah, because she’s your mate. And you believe in all that fated crap. But what about us?”

Torin whistles under his breath. “Easy.”

Orson doesn’t take his eyes off me. “You didn’t ask us.”

I fold my arms. “She stays.”

Orson holds my gaze another second. Then he exhales through his nose. “Your call. Just remember who else it puts in the crosshairs.”

I let off a growl. “I’m Alpha, and you’re all my responsibility.”

Orson studies me for another moment. Then he jerks his chin toward the door. “You really think she’s going to sit tight here?”

A creak down the hallway—the sound of an old doorknob being turned.

All three of us go still.

9

Gunnar

The hallway door opens and Alexandria steps out.

Her hair is a dark cloud around her shoulders, all tangled from sleep, and she’s barefoot on the wooden floor, blinking into the light like she’s still figuring out where she is.