Chapter 419 Tense Tables and Old Shadows
Leslie’s POV
99
+ Pears
That meal was painfully awkward. Kirby’s mint pheromones seeped out now and then, carrying a heavy, suppressed chill. Even lifting my fork to pick up food felt weighted.
Luckily, both of us had weathered tougher Pack storms. We’d survived worse scenes than this.
We avoided the sensitive topics. On the surface, we chatted politely about northern trade trends and Pack alliances, but I noticed Kirby’s gaze drifting to the window at times, as if his mind were elsewhere.
Afterwards, I personally escorted him to the door, flawless in courtesy. Among Packs, Alpha visits demanded proper host rituals.
“Kirby, we should play ball sometime,” I said lightly – just empty words to smooth over the awkwardness.
He paused, then gave a smile. “All right.”
Damn it, who made you my brother?
Even
my wolf nearly bared its teeth at that.
My face stiffened. I forced a smile. “Call me your brother and that makes Leslie your sister. If anything goes wrong, you’d better treat her right.”
It was half a joke, half a warning. In a Pack, brothers defended sisters. I wasn’t about to let anyone trample mine.
Kirby’s smile faded in an instant. His eyes darkened, as though my words struck a raw nerve.
He hesitated, then quickly smoothed his expression.
I waved. “Goodbye.”
Watching his back as he left, a knot of conflicted feelings stirred in me. His persistence toward Leslie was something to respect. But Leslie wasn’t the kind of woman anyone could simply
conquer.
Marcus‘ POV
– aged leather and old
The Crimson Moon Pack’s great hall always carried that same scent- parchment, heavy in the air. Ancestors‘ portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes seeming to follow me wherever I moved.
1/2
9:23 Sat, Oct 4
Chapter 419 Tense Tables and Old Shadows
B
99
8 Pearla
As the elder Alpha, I had to show up now and then. Partly to remind the old guard that Pack order was forged by iron hand, not birthright. Partly to keep an eye on Kirby’s moves.
That boy had cleaned out the spies I’d planted with surgical precision. The cold efficiency of it unsettled me.
But until he formally assumed power, no one in this Pack dared slight me. My presence still pressed down like the weight of a mountain.
I leaned back in the chair, sipping hot tea. The steam carried a faint trace of mint pheromones lingered here.
He’d just returned from Rogue Pack. I’d told Malach to send him my way.
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