Chapter 81

Aria

My backpack lay open on my bed, half-packed with clothes I wasn’t even sure I would even need. It wasn’t exactly as if I had a manual for what to bring to the pack lands—what did one even wear to meet a council of werewolf elders?

I sighed, staring at the modest pile of sweaters, jeans, and a couple of nicer dresses, none of which seemed particularly right for the occasion.

Behind me, Darren stood leaning against the doorframe, looking utterly out of place in my tiny apartment. His broad shoulders practically filled the space, making the room feel even smaller than usual. I could sense him watching me as I moved back and forth between my dresser and the suitcase, his presence quiet but impossible to ignore.

“Are you sure you don’t mind waiting?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at him. “This might take a while.”

He shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a faint smile. “I’m not in a rush.”

I nodded, trying to focus on the task at hand, but his lingering gaze on my back made it hard to concentrate. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at the framed photos on my wall, his head tilting slightly as he examined them.

“Is that you?” he asked, pointing to a picture of me as a teenager. It was a selfie from my seventeenth birthday at the youth home. Bella’s giant brown eyes were in the foreground, my frosting-covered face behind her. We were both laughing.

“Yeah,” I said, pausing to look at the photo. “Bella thought it would be funny to smash cake on my face for my birthday gift that year.”

Darren’s expression softened, and he moved closer to get a better look. “You look happy.”

“I was,” I admitted, a pang of nostalgia hitting me. “That was my first birthday. My first celebrated birthday, I mean.”

I could still hear the sound of the other kids at the home singing me happy birthday, could still taste the pink and white frosting on my chocolate cake. Bella had orchestrated the party, pooling together the kids’ pocket money to hang streamers and balloons all over the community room. They had baked the cake themselves.

Darren was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking to mine for a split second. I could see his expression soften slightly.

“When is your birthday?” he murmured.

“June sixth.”

Darren nodded, as if storing that information away. His gaze then shifted to another photo, this one of me and Bella on vacation together at the beach, grinning like idiots with matching sunglasses on. “And this one?”

“Spring break a few years ago,” I said with a snort. “We thought we were so cool.”

Darren chuckled quietly. “You’ve always been close, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, pulling another sweater from my drawer and tossing it onto the pile. “She’s like a sister to me.”

Which is exactly why not telling her about all of this stings so much, I thought, but didn’t say that out loud.

Next, Darren’s attention drifted over to the little knick knacks sitting on my bookshelf. A ceramic owl I’d bought at a thrift shop. A tiny snow globe that Bella had bought me as a housewarming gift when I first moved in here. A half-burned vanilla-scented candle. He didn’t touch anything, just looked, his curiosity almost childlike.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the strange warmth spreading through me at the sight of him in my space.

“So… is there anything I should know about the pack lands? Customs or… I don’t know, things I should or shouldn’t say?” I asked.

Darren turned his attention back to me, his expression growing more serious. “There are a few things, actually,” he said, stepping closer. “First, when we meet the elders, you’ll need to address them respectfully. Call them ‘Elder’ followed by their first name.”

I nodded, mentally filing that one away. It seemed simple enough. “Got it. Anything else?”

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to my backpack before returning to me. “You’ll also need to refer to me properly when we’re in front of the pack.”

“Properly?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll need to call me ‘Alpha.’ It’s a sign of respect.”

I blinked, caught off guard. I’d heard the others call him that, but I’d never really considered calling him that myself. “You want me to call you Alpha?” I blurted out.

“Yes,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “Go ahead. Practice.”

I stared at him, my cheeks heating. “I’m not calling you that. I’m a human.”

“Human or not, you’ll have to do it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Better to get used to it now than slip up in front of the elders. You want to make a good impression, don’t you?”

I hesitated, the word feeling foreign and strange on my tongue. “Fine,” I muttered, lowering my gaze. “Alpha.”

Darren cleared his throat. “Say it louder. With confidence.”

I rolled my eyes but complied. “Alpha.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping slightly. “Again.”

“Alpha,” I repeated, my voice steadier this time even though my heart was racing. When I glanced up through my lashes, I saw that Darren was standing just inches away from me, his tall form towering over me in the dimly lit room. My cheeks instantly heated, even more so when I saw the mischievous little sparkle in his eyes and the way his gaze moved toward my mouth for the barest hint of a second.

He tilted his head, as if considering for a moment. “Good,” he finally said. Then, with a pause and the faintest smirk, he added, “Now try not to blush so much when you say it.”

I scowled, feeling a newfound heat creep up my neck. “I’m not blushing.”

“You are,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “You might want to work on that before we get there.”

“Maybe you should work on being less insufferable,” I shot back, but the waver in my tone gave me away.

Darren merely huffed, a sound that almost seemed like a chuckle, and leaned against the door frame again.

I turned back to my backpack, my cheeks still burning like red hot embers as I shoved a pair of boots into the bottom. As I worked, Darren’s gaze lingered on the pile of clothes that I still had to pack, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Aria,” he said after a moment, his tone more serious now, “are those the only coats you’re bringing?”

I glanced at the lightweight parka and the fashionable wool coat that I had draped over the back of a chair. The only two coats I owned, aside from a couple of light jackets for spring and fall. “Yeah, why?”

“They’re not warm enough,” he said simply.

“What do you mean? It’s almost May.”

“The pack lands are much colder this time of year,” he explained with a shake of his head. “Think sub-zero temperatures. Heavy snow. Harsh winds.”

I frowned, realizing that he was being serious. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse,” he said. “Pack lands are often in remote, inhospitable areas for a reason. Wolves can handle the weather. Humans, not so much. It keeps us safe from intruders, but you’re going to be miserable.”

I sighed as I stared down at my parka. “So what do you suggest?”

“You’ll need a proper winter coat,” he said firmly. “Something designed for extreme cold.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And where am I supposed to find something like that?”

He straightened, already pulling out his phone. “We’ll go shopping. There’s a store downtown that should have what you need.”

“Shopping?” I repeated, surprised. “You’re really that concerned about my coat?”

He nodded and glanced at his watch. “If you’re going to be visiting the pack lands with me more often, you’ll need something warmer than that. Let’s hurry.”