**BOOK THREE**
Still grieving the loss of his mate, twenty-four-year-old Tatum Knowles isolated himself from the rest of his pack. With the strength of both his pack and himself being questioned by those around them, the last thing Tatum planned to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I raised my hand and knocked on the door, waiting for Nixon to open it. There was little movement at first, and part of me thought he might still be mad. I was almost about to leave when the door revealed Nixon's form. He stared at me for a few minutes before moving out of the way and allowing me inside. I entered the room and took a seat on the bed.
"I'm sorry about that," Is the first thing I say to him with a sigh. "I didn't know they were coming."
"It's fine," Nixon shrugged. "Who doesn't love being cussed out by strangers who broke into the place you're staying?"
I frowned at his sarcasm. "Cloud is..." I shook my head. "Cloud doesn't warm up to new people easily."
"What is he to you?"
The question caught me off, guard. I blinked before turning to Nixon.
"What?"
"What is he to you?" He repeated. "Like a brother or—"
"A friend," I cut him off. "Cloud is a friend to me. A good friend."
Nixon hummed in a way that made it sound like he didn't believe my response. "It didn't seem like you wanted him here."
The guilt rose again, and I sighed. "I'm happy to see him; it's just a little...complicated right now. Besides, you're here, and I don't want an unnecessary amount of people knowing about you. The whole point of you coming was supposed to be a secret, after all."
Nixon had a frown on his face, and it suddenly reminded me of what I had forgotten to get.
"I left the food," I matched his frown. "If you still w—"
"I don't care about the food," Nixon said.
My brows furrowed. "Then what's wrong? If it's still about Cloud and Raiden, then you won't—"
"It's not that," Nixon sighed as he turned to face me. His black shirt rose slightly as he did so, and before I could stop myself, my eyes dropped to the exposed area, but I quickly directed them elsewhere. "I can't keep doing this, Tatum. Sitting in here all day, I mean. I don't do anything besides eat, sleep, play games, and repeat. In my pack, we spend much time outside and running around. Just sitting here is making me restless."
I frowned, but I couldn't say that it was surprising to hear him say that. Nixon came from a pack where a lot of the time was spent training; if they were training, then they were running around outside or just being active in some way. It made sense that he didn't like staying inside.
