Page 78 of The CEO Alpha’s Substitute Mate

The lightheartedness disappears from her eyes as she turns to Callum, while I sit there trying to work out what happened to her overnight. “Damien has sent out feelers about who would have planned such an attack, and I have had my father start looking into whispers. If somebody from the pack elders sent those men after Luca, there’s going to be some word.”

“You can try your way. I’ll try mine,” Callum says quietly. “And I’ll start taking off the heads of every leader of every political family in the pack.”

“That’s not a good idea, Callum.” Isabella’s hand comes up. “The pack has finally stabilized. If you do something like this, it’s just going to cause a deeper mess.”

“They touched my family.”

The snarl underneath the words isn’t human. Luca doesn’t flinch at it. He shifts against me, leaning into it, and when I look down, he’s turned his face toward his father with his shoulders loose for the first time since he came through that door. None of that noise scares him. He’s tucking himself in behind the man making it.

My son is going to lead this pack. These people, these rooms, these politics I don’t understand, all of it will come to him, and I’m not part of any of it.

“I don’t know much about your world, Callum,” I begin, “but maybe Isabella is right. Before you start beheading people, just investigate first. Why should innocent people get hurt?”

Damien’s eyebrows go up toward his hairline. Isabella has gone completely still, Salar has taken a sudden interest in the strap of his bag, and Callum looks at me for a long five seconds.

“Fine.”

Nobody in the room moves for a second. “You have twenty-four hours. Give me a name. Otherwise, every major family in the pack is going to lose their family head.”

Damien nods, shooting me a grateful look, and nudges his head toward the door. Callum follows him, and Salar excuses himself, leaving only Isabella with me and Luca.

I give her a cautious look. “How long have I been out for?”

“Two days.” She checks the stitches on my leg. “Salar gave you some human medicine that knocked you out for the pain.”

I can see my phone on the bedside table, and I reach for it but fail. Isabella hands it to me. “He never listens to anybody, you know.” Her mouth pulls to one side. “The fact that one word from you had him stopping himself from starting a massacre is no small thing.”

“What?”

“Callum.” She looks rueful. “I hate to admit it, but you’re kind of good with him.”

I don’t get a chance to react because she’s out the door in the next minute. My face burns, and I’m grateful for the phone buzzing because it distracts me. When I answer it, it’s Zara.

“Come out tonight. There’s a place near the bridge doing half-price until eight, and I want to sit on a stool complaining about my boss.”

“Not right now.” I close my eyes. “Did you go by my apartment for the mail?”

“That’s kind of why I wanted to ask you out for drinks as well.” She pauses. “You’re going to need one.”

“Why?” I’ve got the sheet twisted in my free hand before she answers.

“You were let go from the studio.”

My eyes fly open. “Why?” I hear my own voice climb. “What happened? Did I do something?”

“I don’t know.” She’s talking fast now. “I just went to collect your mail, and I found the termination letter. It’s just thirty days of pay under a paragraph about restructuring.” She takes a breath. “Ariela, that place has eleven staff. There’s nothing there to restructure.”

I think about Priya holding the door open with her foot, about a hundred six-year-olds a week in tight buns and pointed shoes. I shift my leg, and the pain nearly makes me whimper. My eyes go down to the scarred appendage, and my heart aches. What am I even thinking?

“Maybe it’s for the best.” My eyes are burning. “I injured my leg yesterday. Dancing isn’t happening anymore. Not till it heals, at least.”

“You did what? What happened to your leg?”

“I’ll tell you later. It’s stitched, and it’s fine.”

She sighs and then murmurs, “I’ll help you find another job.”

My lips curve wearily. “I don’t know. I’ll see if I can find something online or figure something out. I just—This sucks. This really sucks, Zara. How is this day just getting worse?”