The Alpha's Fine Print novel · Chapter 14 of 24

Chapter 14: Pack Dinner

The long table in the pack hall seated forty, and thirty-one wolves sat at it.

I took the chair at the head, in a green wool dress with a row of buttons down the front.

Lorcan sat on my right, and Bess sat across from him with her chin on her fist, grinning.

Everyone passed bowls of venison stew and bread, and everyone watched me eat.

A white tablecloth hung to the floor on both sides.

It was thick, and it was long, and it hid everything below the table edge.

I noticed that, and I did not stop noticing.

Under the cloth, Lorcan's knee was warm against mine.

"Steward," said the old woman with the white braid, three seats down. "Do you like the stew?"

"It's very good."

"His mother's recipe. He never makes it."

"Because it makes me cry," Lorcan said.

Everyone laughed.

I laid my left hand in my lap, and then I let it slide to the right.

It found his thigh through his good black jeans.

He did not move.

I felt the muscle go tight under my palm, and I kept my face pleasant and my eyes on the stew.

"Lorcan," Bess said. "Tell Tilda about the winter wood."

"It's stacked," he said, and his voice cracked in the middle.

"Is it?"

"Yes. In the long shed."

My hand drifted higher.

I rubbed the heel of my palm along the thick ridge pressing against his zipper.

He made a tiny sound and covered it with a cough.

"Are you well, Alpha?" the old woman asked.

"Fine. A crumb."

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