Mask | ✓

27

As I walked through the Silver Night, eyes followed me, but I paid them no mind. I was on a mission today.

After we came back from running yesterday, Nixon had gone to see Nolan. I expected him to return relatively quickly, but that wasn't the case. He was gone for hours before finally returning to the house, and when he did, he immediately locked himself in his room for the rest of the night. I wasn't sure what had happened, but it inspired me to get up early the following day.

The Silver Night was a pack that focused a lot on hunting, unlike my pack. In recent years, restaurants and other types of businesses have been popping up in many packs but not in the Silver Night. However, there were a few exceptions to this. Since kids under the age of thirteen weren't able to shift, food was cooked for them at the pack house. Other members could also eat it, but it was mainly the kids and elderly who did. That didn't deter me from stopping by, though. Something told me that Nixon wouldn't be in a hunting mood, and it was early in the morning.

When I entered the building, the atmosphere seemed to change. There was a wide variety of people there. I could feel their eyes lingering as I approached the counter and sat to wait for the line to go down. I didn't know if they were staring because I was unfamiliar or because they could tell I was an alpha — probably both. I'm sure many people were wondering what I was doing here, but as far as I knew, neither Nixon nor Nolan had said anything.

"And I'm telling you that you're wrong," A voice before me sassed.

I turned my head to see a man and a woman sitting together. The woman's back was turned to me, but I could see the man's glaring blue eyes from around her.

"How am I wrong?" The man scoffed before his eyes found mine. "What do you think?"

What?

Both heads turned to me and stared at me intensely, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" I said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

"Pancakes or waffles," the man clarified. "Which is better?"

I blinked and stared back at the two. Was this a real question?

"Both?" I said.

The woman sighed. "You're no help."

I expected the two to turn away from me and return to their...debate, but instead, the man offered me a smile.

"You're new here, right? Well, I'm Caspian, and this," he gestured to the woman. "Is Mila."

"Tatum," I introduced myself. "Are you two mates?"

The question caused Mila to choke on the food she had been eating, and Caspian's face morphed into a horrified expression.

"Goddess fuck no!" Mila exclaimed. "Cousins. Nothing more — just cousins."

I stared between the two of them. Caspian had dark blue eyes, blond hair, and a fairer complexion, whereas Mila had dark, curly brown hair, light brown eyes, and tan skin.

"She's adopted," Caspian pitched in even though I hadn't asked. "I couldn't imagine being mated to her. Sounds like a never-ending nightmare."

"Yeah, for me," Mila retorted. "I don't think I could deal with your bitching for the rest of my life. I'd have to get you a muzzle."

The two glared at each other, and immediately it became more apparent that they were family. The way they argued reminded me of Raiden and Maia or other siblings in my own pack.

"Enough," Mila told Caspian before turning back to me. "I'm curious; why are you here? Clearly, you're an alpha, and not to mention, I heard you came with Alpha Nixon, which in itself is surprising."

Her question was a bold one to ask in such a public setting. Had I been here on business, the pack likely wouldn't have found out what the conversation was about until much later. Most conversations between other alphas were confidential — even more so if that alpha was staying. Leaks in information can lead to chaos, which can cause harm to not one but all packs involved, and nobody wanted that.

But I wasn't here on business, so instead, I responded with, "just visiting."

Mila didn't appear to believe me, but she didn't get the chance to ask more questions before Caspian jumped in.

"So you and Alpha Nixon are friends?"

Were Nixon and I friends? I think we'd already effectively crossed that line; however, I didn't exactly know what to call our relationship. We were together, but the term "friend" just didn't seem to do enough justice.

"We are," I ultimately said despite my differing thoughts.

"Huh, that's surprising. I didn't think he knew how to make friends besides Beta Eli."

The words caused me to frown slightly. I knew that Nixon wasn't the easiest person to get along with, but that still didn't stop the things people said about him from bothering me. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by another voice entering the conversation.

"I think it's disgusting."

Mila, Caspian, and I each turned around to see a raven-haired girl sitting at a table, staring directly at me.

"It's disgusting that you can be friends with a murderer."

Her words were laced with anger, and so were her eyes. She stared at me as if I was the scum of the earth.

"I don't recall anyone talking to you, Aria," Mila growled. "If you have a problem, then leave the pack. It's that simple."

"He was a traitor," Caspian adds quietly.

Aria's hand slams down on the table, and her eyes darken. "No, he wasn't! Isaiah would never betray the pack!"

Isaiah? The name was familiar.

"Isaiah, as in Isaiah Wells? Alpha Nolan's deceased mate?" I asked.

Aria scoffed and sarcastically said, "Yeah, 'Nolan's mate.'"

The way she spoke caused my brows to furrow. I didn't get the chance to speak to her again before she stood up and stomped out of the building. My eyes turned back to Caspian and Mila, who was still staring at the door.

"Who was that?" I asked them.

"That was Aria Wells," Caspian told me. "Isaiah's younger sister."