Alpha Damon.

How is this not surprising? I mean the man radiates authority and dominance. Every step he takes is prideful and purposeful. Of course, he's a fucking Alpha. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Just then, a young boy enters the kitchen, approaching us with urgency. He cannot be younger than fifteen. Dusty blonde locks hang just above his brow, barely covering his powder-blue eyes. His bone structures are comparable to Shane's.

"Beta," The boy bowed his head to Alaric before turning to Shane. His agitated state raises the hairs on the back of my neck. As the boy barely whispers into his ear, a mysterious emotion glimmers in his eyes. A gnawing feeling begins to simmer in my gut. Shane straightens and clears his throat as the questionable boy steps back.

"I must go, but I will see you guys at dinner." He announces. With a nod of his head to Alaric and Dakota and a flirty wink at me, he leaves the room with the young boy.

I skeptically watch the pair as they disappear. Something about them just doesn't sit right.

"Who was that?" I ask, my eyes still trained on the direction of the two wolves.

"That's Daxton, Shane's little brother. Just ignore them. They're always like that." Dakota replies, hearing the wariness in my tone. Interesting. We continued to the tour of the house with Alaric tagging along.

By the time we finished, dinner was finally ready. I follow Dakota and Alaric into the great dining hall where warriors are gathering around an enormous table. Greedy hunger looms in their tired eyes as salvia dares to puddle out of their mouths. An unsettling feeling takes root in the pit of my stomach as I walk into this den of hungry wolves.

An older woman carries two more platters of steaming hot food out of the kitchen, fighting through the mob of hungry wolves, and places them on the table. My stomach grumbles as I inhale the delicious aroma. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Emory as she scrambles back into the kitchen. Exhaustion is written on her face, but she's still smiling.

"Come on," Alaric sends me a quick smile and guides me towards the end of the table. "Since you're our guest, you get the privilege to sit with the pack leaders."

As we approach the end, his enchanting green eyes zone into mine. Just the sight of him makes me want to rip my hair out, but also melt into his rippling arms.

"How was the tour of the house?" Damon asks. His rich voice twists a tornado of emotions inside of me.

"It was fine." I quickly replied. An indecipherable emotion briefly flashes in his eyes as our gaze lingers. He then pulls out a chair, offering me a seat. I hesitate, but reluctantly sit down. Alaric settles into a chair next to me as Damon goes to occupy the other.

Soon enough, the older woman places the last basket of bread onto the table and shouts, "Dig in everyone!"

Within a split second, starving hands reach across the table and fill their plates with mountains of food. I've never seen such an unrefined display before. The sound of serving spoons speedily scooping out lumps of casseroles with loud smacks, and the breaking of bones in the hens' carcass sends a disgusted shiver down my spine. Ewww.

"I need to speak with you after dinner," Damon says, his determined voice drenched in authority.

"About?" I raise my brow as he shoves a fork full of food into his large mouth.

"We will discuss it after dinner. Now eat up. You're too small. You need some meat on your bones." He commands, using his fork to point at the empty plate before me.

Once dinner ended, a majority of the wolves dispersed to their rooms. I carefully eye Damon and the leaders as they converse in the corner of the room. With furrowed brows and hushed tones, it appeared they were having a deep discussion.

In the corner of my eye, I see Emory and the older woman begin to stack the dirty plates and utensils into a bin. They worked so hard, I can't just sit by and watch them clean up. I swiped the nearby plates and stacked them on top of one another, gathering the used utensils and placing them on top of the plates. God, this takes me back to working at Captain Jack's Crab Shack in high school.

I pick up my stack, carry them to the bin, and gently set them down. While I clean up, I sense Emory and the older woman's eyes piercing through me.

"Oh, you don't have to do that ma'am," Emory says softly, eyes wide as I swiped soiled napkins and bone fragments off the table.

I shake my head, "You've worked so hard. It's the least I can do."

As I tossed the napkins away, I spotted a small grin curving Emory's lips. Without another word, the three of us manage to clean up the dining hall within a matter of minutes. The older woman pushes the cart of dirty dishes and trash into the kitchen as Emory gives me a soft smile, thanking me and telling me they had the rest from there. I smirk in return before she disappeared into the kitchen. When I turn around, I see Damon shaking the pack leader's hands before they exit the dining hall.

"Come with me." He commands, already walking away. I quicken my pace and follow him into the meeting room.

As we walk in, Kenzie's picture is still plastered on the board. I chew on my lip as I wondered if she was okay. He gently closes the door behind me before walking towards the other side of the room. With his arms crossed over his chest, Damon silently examines the board, his back facing me.

Apprehension burns inside of my chest. The stony silence is suffocating as I wait for him to speak. I glance down at my feet. A ping of regret pricking away at my chest.

The episode from earlier replays in my mind when I look around the room. Maybe I shouldn't have lashed out the way I did. Maybe I should have let him finish earlier. I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes, but why would he have a picture of Kenzie? Why was his timing so perfect to interfere with incoming danger?

"Do you trust me?" He asks, his deep voice sharply cutting through the silence.

I hesitate, taken aback by his question. How do I answer that? He probably prevented my demise twice now. He practically kidnapped me, threatened to rip me apart... Am I supposed to trust him?

"Don't pretend to be dumb," He says impatiently, spinning on his heels to face me. "You're a very intelligent woman, Grace. You know the answer. It's a simple 'yes' or 'no.'"

His waspish glare sends shivers down my spine. I chew on the inside of my cheek, hastily reviewing every encounter we've ever had once more. I slowly bob my head, my words caught in my throat.

"Alright then. Explain your little spasm earlier."

"Explain why you have my best friend on your board first." I countered, pointing towards Kenzie's picture.

"She's a suspect in an investigation." He states matter of factly. "Your turn. Now, explain that episode from earlier."

"Wait, wait, wait. What?" Dismay consumes my voice as his words begin to process through my mind. Why would Kenz be a part of some investigation involving the wolves?

He stands before me, stoic and silent, tapping his impatient fingers against his arms. After a few seconds, I groan and roll my eyes, knowing he won't respond until I apologize or give him a valid answer.

He's not going to let up and I won't get the answer until I do. I collect my thoughts and allow a soft sigh of defeat to slip past my lips.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have exploded like that," As I begin to apologize, I feel a weight sink heavily on my chest. "A lot of bad things have been happening lately and when I saw Kenzie on the board,"

I looked down at my feet, my dejected voice slowly trailing off. "I just thought the worst and... I lost it."

I lift my head to see his jade eyes attentively gazing into mine. I softly shake my head, blinking away the acidic tears threatening to unleash.

"I barely know you, Damon. How did you expect me to react when I see a picture of my best friend in a stranger's house and I have no idea what the hell is going on? How do I trust a stranger? I can't even trust my mother not to bring home creeps, let alone sober up." My brittle tone morphs into frustration with the mere thought of my mom and that thing.

All of the sudden, the door bursts open. When I spin around, Alaric is gripping onto the sides of the door. Pure alarm consumes his blue diamond eyes. He heaves up and down as he catches his breath.

"We have to go... Now!" Orders Alaric, in between breaths. His unstable voice is saturated with troubling panic. Without hesitation, Damon immediately follows Alaric down the hallway. I rush behind them, trying to keep up with their wider strides

"What's going on?" When I ask, Alaric briefly glances over his shoulders and says,

"It's Emory's pup. She's been attacked."