Chapter 41

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Zoey

I could hardly believe everything that was happening. Van and I were finally getting somewhere with our friendship; the team was finally putting their plan into action; Luna was supportive of everything going on. I couldn't imagine a better situation.

I trotted down the stairs and around the corner, trying to suppress the grin on my face to no avail. It was a new day, and anything could happen. Hopefully something good...

A crash from down the hall brought me to a halt. My heart thumped against my ribs. That sounded like it had come from the conference room... I paused at the end of the hall, waiting for any indication of the cause.

A door opened a few yards down, and Stitch stepped out into the hall.

"I won't justify your reaction by staying," he called back into the room he'd left. "Come find me when you've calmed down." He pulled the door closed moments before something struck it from inside the room. He sighed and shuffled down the hall to where I stood.

A deep line creased his forehead. His normally sparkling eyes were unusually flat. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Stitch? What's wrong?"

He glanced at me and sighed. "Maybe you can get through to him, Zoey. I've given up."

That didn't sound like Stitch at all. He never gave up on people, especially his friends. He held onto hope as long as he could.

"What happened?"

Stitch shook his head. "I better let him tell you. If I give you my version, it'll only set him off more."

I stared down the hall as Stitch shuffled away. From what I understood, Stitch and Van rarely fought. If they did, it was something serious. If Stitch was giving up, what on earth had they fought about?

I slowly approached the conference room door, wary that something may come flying at me when I opened the door. No sounds came from within, so I dared to open the door and peek inside.

Van sat in the chair at the far end of the able, fingers pressed to his temples and jaw clenched tight. Every pen in the room seemed to be scattered across the table. A couple chairs were against the wall instead of neatly pushed against the table. Van's hair stuck out in a couple odd places, fluffed out of its usual smoothed look.

I stepped into the room and quietly closed the door. "Van?"

His gaze snapped up to meet mine. His eyes were so dark that I couldn't tell the difference between pupil and iris. His jaw twitched for a moment.

"Are you okay?" I murmured, staying by the door.

"Did Stitch send you in to calm me down?" he sneered, a kind of fire snapping in those dark eyes.

"I heard a crash," I answered. "I came to see what it was."

He studied me for a moment. "How sweetly you lie."

I blanched. "What?"

"Do you know what Stitch and I were discussing?" He pushed back from the table and rose to his feet.

I swallowed hard and took a tiny step backward. With his flashing eyes and rigid posture, he looked like a predator ready to pounce.

"He didn't tell me," I whispered. "He said he should let you tell me yourself."

"The team thinks that I've come to like being stationed at home like this... that we'll all change pace for a while," he answered himself.

He doesn't like the idea, my wolf whimpered. He's mad that the idea was even brought up.

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