Page 109 of Destined For The Wolf Daddy

“Grow up,” I spat, suppressing the urge to scold them for talking about those things around the kids. “How do I know you weren’t scheming with the enemy?”

“What?!” the girl sputtered. “We weren’t! I swear!”

“I wonder how Curt will feel about you sneaking off where you can’t be watched,” I said, knowing full well how paranoid Curt could be.

“I–I kept my phone on me the whole time,” the boy said. “It’s got a tracker on it, okay? I can show you.”

I made a good show of looking skeptical and finally held a hand out. “Give it here,” I said.

“What? No, I’m not giving you my phone.”

“Okay, great. I’ll just tell Curt you were out compromising our headquarters instead. I’m sure he’ll love that.”

The girl gave him a few firm swats of his arm. “Just give it over, you dumbass,” she hissed.

He grimaced, looking between the girl and me before he finally rolled his eyes and chucked his phone at me.

I caught it in one hand. “Now, get out of my sight before I make this problem even bigger for you,” I threatened.

They both scurried off. If they’d been in their lycan forms, I was sure their tails would be tucked between their haunches.

I waited a few long moments, making sure they were gone and weren’t coming back to stir things up. Then I dropped the sandwich so I could frantically type out a message to Cole.

I finally got a phone. Safe. Kids are too. Hungry and tired but all accounted for according to the list you had me memorize. We’re in an old sawmill about five miles from where I met Curt.

I looked around the warehouse, trying to ascertain where I was. I’d never been very good at figuring out which way was north, south, east, or west, but I did my best to describe where there was a lack of surveillance.

There’s a drainage pipe. Not sure where, definitely opposite side of the watermill. Hurry to get us. It’s not safe—

"What are you doing?" Curt’s voice cut through the air, and a chill ran down my spine. I swiftly tapped send and turned around, hastily stowing my contraband in my back pocket. The elation of finally getting to talk to Cole had absorbed all my attention, making me oblivious to Curt’s approach from behind, a surprising feat given my enhanced hearing. Perhaps he’d intentionally approached like a phantom, relishing the opportunity to catch me red-handed doing something I wasn’t supposed to.

“Hmm? Oh, just feeding the kids. And, well, me.” I lifted my forgotten sandwich and took a big bite. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

Curt chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you managed to find something to make.”

“Yeah, well, offerings are pretty scant. I was going to suggest that I go and do some grocery shopping since no one else seems to like doing it.”

“Yeah?” he said, getting closer to me.

I swallowed the bite I’d taken, my mouth so dry that the food felt like a rock as it sank down my esophagus and into my stomach. Curt didn’t relent, closing in on me until I was trapped against the counter where I’d made the sandwiches, his hands on either side of me, clasping the lip of the counter as he loomed like a shadow over me.

“Oh? You want to go out?” he asked.

“N-not really,” I said, feeling my resolve cracking. Dammit, I could smell my own fear coming off me. “But we gotta eat, right?”

He smirked, lifting a hand and smoothing it from my shoulder down the path of my spine, then to the small of my back. I shivered, trying not to recoil away from him, but it was nearly impossible not to. I closed my eyes as I felt his hand drift lower, bracing myself to be touched by him.

But I only felt the slide of his thumb and forefinger as he reached into my back pocket and plucked the phone out of it.

He dangled it right in front of my face like a taunting bully. But his expression was humorless.

“What am I going to see when I open this phone, Marley?” he asked.

My mouth went dry, and I knew in an instant that my guilt was plain on my face. I heard my heart race, felt my cheeks warm with anxiety.

“I can smell your guilt,” he snarled at me. “I can smell your fucking treason.”

Treason? Hell, he really had convinced himself that he was a prince.

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