A Pack of Their Own novel · Chapter 5 of 32

Chapter 5: Dunmore Ridge

Roark drove us eleven hours, and I did not say one kind word to him in all of it.

He didn't ask me to. He bought gas, handed back coffee, and let Callie talk from the back seat about every pack scandal she had ever heard.

When the road turned to gravel, he finally spoke.

"You're still angry about the infirmary."

"I'm not angry. I'm just not talking."

"You're doing it very loudly."

"You stood in a doorway and let him take me out."

"Yes," Roark said.

He didn't explain it or make an excuse. His hands tightened on the wheel and that was all.

"I was raised not to challenge an Alpha in his own pack's house," he said. "It was the wrong time to be polite. I knew it before you were through the door."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because I was twenty feet from my father's men, and I didn't know what you were yet."

That landed somewhere hard.

"What am I, then?" I asked.

"Mine, I think," he said. "But that was never what he was afraid of."

Callie leaned forward between the seats with her chin on her folded arms.

"Can I say something? Everyone in this truck is being so mature that I want to scream."

Nobody answered her.

The mountains had closed in around us by then.

There were dark pines, bare rock, and the sky going orange behind them.

The road ended at a wooden gate.

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