Bride (Ali Hazelwood) by Ali Hazelwood

            Great actor, great timing.

            “Please.” I smile adoringly at my nurturing partner, pretending not to notice the gagging looks around us.

            He holds my eyes and murmurs, “Let’s go, then.” We step out of the dining room just as Koen calls John a fuckwaffle.

            “Does he like to make enemies? Start fights? Watch the world burn?”

            “Koen’s big on . . .” Lowe searches for the right words. “Unfiltered honesty.”

            No shit. “Who did he challenge? To become Alpha, I mean.”

            “No one. His mother was Alpha before him. When she passed, Koen just ascended.”

            “How delightfully monarchic. And the pack was just okay with it?”

            “Not all of them.”

            “And?”

            His hand presses on my lower back, wordlessly asking me to take a right. “There were challengers.”

            “And?”

            “He’s been Alpha for well over a decade, has he not?”

            “Mmm. True. Are he and Amanda doing it?”

            “She’s his second.”

            “Well, are they?”

            A brief pause. “Traditionally, the Alpha of the Northwest pack takes a vow of celibacy.”

            Oh, God. “Did you?”

            Lowe shakes his head. “Feels like it, though,” he murmurs, just as we reach the office. I immediately unhook a pin from my nape and drop on my knees in front of the lock, letting my dress bunch up my thighs. A few seconds later I open the door with a butler-like flourish.

            “What?” I whisper, noticing the upturned corner of Lowe’s mouth.

            He slips in first, scans the room, then gestures me inside. “Just picturing you doing the same . . .” He closes the door behind him and turns on the light. I see a fireplace so large it could comfortably sleep a midsize family—and a suspicious amount of antlered wall decor. “To break into my room.”

            “Ah. Right.” I flinch. “About that, I am sorry that . . .”

            “You went through my underwear?”

            “Yeah, that.”

            He points at the computer on the desk with a small smile, and I dart there, giving the antlers a wide berth, glad to have something else to focus on. “I’ll hide your scent, but make sure you touch as little as possible,” he reminds me.

            We don’t have much time, so I nod and hurry. Lowe already bugged several spots in the house, but what I’m doing will allow us to track and rifle through any communication from all of Emery’s devices. And since she doesn’t have an Alex, she’ll never realize.

            “Need anything from me?” Lowe asks while I slip into the network, voice pitched low.

            I nod between keystrokes. “Set up the Ubertooth and hand me the LAN Turtle.” I snort at his wide-eyed I-didn’t-know-the-essay-was-due-today-and-my-dog-ate-it-anyway expression. “I was kidding. Just keep guard.”

            “Thank fuck.” His relief could jump-start a truck’s battery. “How long do you need?”

            “Six minutes, tops. Too long?”

            “No. I doubt they know how little time it takes you to feed.”

            I beam up at him. “Why, thank you.”

            “Was that a compliment?” His head tilts in confusion.

            “Wasn’t it?”

            “Not intentionally.”

            “Weren’t you trying to say how low-maintenance I am?”

            “No.”

            “Bummer.” I bend my head and quickly type the code. “Well, I rescind my warm acceptance of your non-compliment.”