“Because if there’s something the pack should know about—”
“There isn’t,” I snap. “And even if there were, I wouldn’t tellyou.”
Pam’s expression shifts. Something moves behind her eyes, then it’s gone. “Look, I’m just trying to help. If someone from your past is a threat—”
“The only threat I’m concerned with right now is the one standing in my kitchen, asking questions that aren’t her business.”
A long silence.
“You know what’s funny, Blue?” Her voice is quiet now. “Before you showed up, I was the one who stocked this kitchen. I was the one who knew that Archer likes his coffee black, Elias takes two sugars, and Silas won’t eat anything with cilantro. I was the one who was here. I was the one Elias wanted.”
She smooths the bag flat on the counter.
“And now Darius is sending me to buy Diet Cokes. For you. Because suddenly everything in this pack revolves around the poor little omega.”
I open my mouth to say something. Maybe to apologize. Because she’s right, in a way. She lost something when I showed up. I know what it feels like to have something taken from you without anyone asking.
“Pam–” But she cuts me off.
“These are my people. I grew up here. You’re just a stray they dragged in from the woods, and strays don’t get to waltz in and claim what isn’t theirs.”
“I haven’t claimed anything.”
“But you will. That’s what omegas do, isn’t it?”
She picks up the empty canvas bag and walks to the door.
“Enjoy the Diet Coke.”
The door shuts behind her.
I stand in the kitchen staring at the six cans lined up on the counter.
Stray. That’s what she called me—a stray they dragged in from the woods.
The worst part is that she’s not wrong. And the second worst part is that I almost understood her, right up until she made it clear she’d never understand me.
33
Darius
“We need to talk.”
Archer follows me outside. We walk in silence until we’re far enough from the cabin that even wolf hearing won’t pick up our conversation.
“Our allied pack sent word,” he says.
“Killian’s pack?” I ask
Darius nods. “He sent a runner this morning,” I say.
Archer’s posture shifts. Alert. “What did he want?”
“To warn us. Someone’s been asking questions about an omega female in the area. Young, brunette, travelling alone.”
“Blue.”
I nod.