THIRD PERSON'S POV "He's hiding something from me. I know it. I can feel it in my guts. I don't know what it is, but I have to find out. I should find out." Luther rasped with a resounding worried tone. He couldn't hold it in. Ever since his visit to the Packhouse yesterday and his brief encounter with Arlo, he couldn't help his worried feelings. All he wanted was to see the child. If he was going to kill the child off soon, he should as well know what he looked like. But Arlo wouldn't let him in. He had seemed too defensive than was normal. For a child he recently adopted, Arlo had acted way too sentimental in his defense. Like he had some intense bond with the child. That was crazy. No one would easily have such a bond with another. Except the bond was innate. Except it naturally existed. But then, that would imply a lot of things. Either Arlo was the real father of the child, and had some mistress or breeder somewhere, or Jordy…what? No, that part made no sense.
THIRD PERSON'S POV Luther walked in but there was no sign of her. Her strong scent still lingered so he figured she could be in the bathroom. Just as he thought, the bathroom door opened and she walked out. She saw him and froze, not wanting to take any more steps. The door was locked. He locked it. That reality freaked her out even more. "What— what are you doing in here?" She was panicky. And for a second, she considered running back inside the bathroom and locking herself in until he left. But he just might tear down the door if she dared to do that. He looked more feral than usual. Upsetting him would be a disastrous idea. "Now do you understand?" His guttural voice sent ripples down her spine. "You can't get away from me. You can't end what we have. And any day you try to, I'll come here. I'll pay another unexpected visit. I'll make your Father realize with a little, wild bitch you are." "Please, don't." Zoey sobbed, rubbing her hands. It was her biggest nightm
THIRD PERSON'S POV Jamal watched the mated folks dancing away on the dance floor. It was a waltz, and they were doing it with grace. Watching them was entertaining. And he would have joined in the dance if he had a partner. But again, that was funny and a little bit of a lie, because a lot of girls had asked to dance with him and he turned them down, with the repeated lie that he was here with someone and she was just outside getting some fresh air. He had started by telling them that he wasn't in the mood, but that didn't work. They all seemed to want to put him in the mood. So he took a detour and told a better lie. And it was succeeding in keeping them off him all through the night. They weren't who he would have loved to dance with. So he'd rather be left alone. It was just him and his drinks. And of course, his thoughts. The unfiltered thoughts of Jordy were crashing down the resolve he had built since he left the Pack. This was his last night in Black Reeves Pa
THIRD PERSON'S POV "Go take a shower, Zach. It's almost noon. We should get going." "Leave me alone." Zach mumbled, stuffing his face into his pillows with an exaggerated groan. Jamal buttoned his shirt and took one last look in the mirror before going to join him on the bed. He softly rubbed Zach's back. "Let me say this again. I'm sorry about last night. But I was saving your ass, man. You should be grateful. Hitch almost caught you with his girl in that restroom." "But he didn't…" "Yes, he didn't. He didn't catch you stealing glances at her all through the night either. He didn't notice you giving her champagne just so you could brush your fingers against hers. He didn't see you subtly sniffing her like you wanted to gobble her up. He didn't see you slipping a note into her hand when we were saying goodbye to them. He didn't see anything last night. And that makes me wonder if he's just plain stupid or fucking blind." Jamal ended his rambling with a snort and stood
KING ARLO'S POV The door slowly opened and Brandy walked into my bedroom, dressed in shorts ripped at the thighs and a lacy top that left nothing to the imagination. It's been three days since I returned to my Pack. I couldn't summon her because I didn't have enough patience for any kind of talk with her. So I strictly ordered them to keep her in the guest quarters until I was mentally ready to meet her. Today, I was mentally ready and that was why I asked them to tell her to go wait in my study. Seeing her right now in my bedroom sent a surge of disgust through my windpipe and I couldn't control the rough hiss that I let out. "I asked you to go wait for me in my study. Not come to my bedroom." I stood from the bed but she quickly came to me, and I involuntarily plumped my butt back on the bed. "Arlo, please…" She was in front of me, with her hands on my shoulders. Her blue eyes were drenched in tears, which I knew were as fake as everything else about her. What was sh
MESSIAH JORDY'S POV I felt a little uneasy joining my parents on the balcony of their bedroom. There were three deck chairs there and they already had two occupied. Mother on one and Father on the other. The last one was for me and I sat quietly, intertwining my fingers. Father looked terrible. He couldn't even grab the glass of water on the small table. Mother had to reach for it and feed him the water. Ever since Arlo told me to look out for him and that he wasn't feeling too good, I started watching him closely. And now, it was a no-brainer. Father was sick. Terribly sick. But the frustrating thing had to be the fact that he wouldn't let me get the Pack doctor to come and check on him. He didn't want to go to the Pack's hospital either. He preferred being locked up in his room with just Mother by his side. I couldn't help but feel like they were trying to make the most of the time they had together. Like, they wanted to spend as much time as they could in each other'
THIRD PERSON'S POV Jamal lingered at the door, patiently waiting. It was taking longer than he'd expected and the wait was killing him. But the man had given strict orders that he stay outside. So he couldn't go in, no matter how badly he was craving to. He crouched again, covering his face with his clammy hands and saying a silent prayer. Crazy how being desperate made one do even the unthinkable. Praying had never been something he did. Ever. He was too much of a realist to believe some supernatural being would drop down and take care of all his problems. Growing up, he had to fix most of his problems on his own. Or his Father would. But somebody would. He never left it in the hands of any supernatural being. But right now, he was at his wit's end. Returning to the Pack had been more horrible than he imagined. Finding his Mother weak had started as something trivial until days later and she was slowly getting worse. He went to get the Pack's doctor but he was nowhe
THIRD PERSON'S POV "Father?" Jamal had a momentary shock at the sight. What was his Father doing at a hotel? And why was he dressed all sophisticated again? Who was this friend he always had to meet that made him have to look very different? Almost recognizable. Curious as hell, Jamal couldn't keep his questions to himself, so he turned to the receptionist. "Luther Beaconsfield. Is he checked in here?" The receptionist was slightly put off by the sudden rigidity in his tone. But she took another second to check her list and nodded. "Yes, he is. Are you here for him or you're here to see Mr. Davidson Clark? He said he'll be out in a few minutes." "Sure. Thank you." Jamal nodded curtly and was going to walk away. But the crazy questions kept haunting his mind and he was back to pestering the receptionist. "I'm really sorry for the extra trouble…" he chirped in an apology, at the slight squeeze in her face. Subtly, he took out a wad of dollar notes and slid it to her. "