Chapter 5: The Guest Suite

For a long moment nobody in the restaurant breathed.

Broderick had given that order to four hundred wolves, and I had just stood in front of him and said no.

His jaw worked.

His eyes went to the two men at the corner table, who were studying their plates very hard.

"Keira," Blair said from behind him, soft and anxious. "Maybe we should all sit. People are looking."

It was a good thing to say, and Broderick grabbed it.

"We'll talk at home," he told me, and he took her arm.

At the door he looked back once.

It was not anger on his face.

It was fear, and he put it away fast.

They left.

My mother had stayed seated with her hand on the poetry book.

"Keira Duggan," she said, which she only calls me when I am in trouble. "You are not going home with that man."

"I wasn't going to."

"Good." She picked up her fork. "Now sit down and let me finish my cake. It's my birthday."

Orson drove her home himself.

He walked her to the door of her building and carried the leftover cake, and when he came back down to the car he said only, "She is formidable."

"She knows."

On the way back across the city I put my hand against the cold window.

I had caught my palm on the hook of the coat rack when I stepped back from Broderick, and it had bled onto my sleeve.

I had not felt it.

We went up to the guest suite on the floor above his office.

It was a clean white room with a bed, a lamp and a locked glass door onto a terrace.

Keep reading free with an account. Start From Wolfless Omega To The Rival Alpha's Queen from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.