Page 25 of Savage Trap

There’s a squawk from Rory - who either has the hearing of a bat, or just eavesdropped through the bond - but I just brush my lips over Kelly’s cheek and head towards Nate. It’s not just my mates who are watching, the Snider pack’s attention like sticky fingers on the back of my neck. But I shrug that off as I focus on Nate, who’s still in the navy suit he was wearing today. His cheeks flush as he watches me approach, but there’s a pleased sparkle in his eyes that soothes my jangling nerves.

“Hey, Elvi,” he says almost shyly as I reach his side. “That’s okay, isn’t it? You told me to call you that last night.”

I can feel the anxiety coming off him and I give his arm a gentle squeeze. I want to ask about Trench, obviously, but I also know this isn’t the place, so I give him my best smile instead. “That’s fine, Nate. And I’m glad you’re here, because I wanted to thank you. For the security feeds, but also with getting Kelly safely back to the hotel.”

He's already shaking off the gratitude. “I was happy to help. I’m just bummed we didn’t find anything useful.”

“It’s not over yet. Link is going over everything frame by frame. We’re kind of an intense pack, if you didn’t already pick that up.”

“You’re perfect,” Nate says quietly, then flushes. “I just mean, you seem to work really well together.”

His gaze moves around the party, and I try to see it through his eyes. There are small groups standing at the scattered cocktail tables, with each formed around a pack alpha. While there are a handful of omegas, the vast majority of the guests are alphas, and I’m pretty sure Nate is the only beta on the rooftop. His designation means less than nothing to me, but I’m not sure that’s how he feels.

“What about you?” I ask gently. “No one you’re interested in as mates?”

His eyes go wide behind his glasses. “Oh, not really. I don’t think I’m exactly pack material.”

I frown at his dismissive tone. “Doesn’t that depend on the pack?”

He stares at me for a moment, like there’s something on the tip of his tongue, but his hand drifts to his neck and I realize he’s touching the fading bruises. I can’t pick up his emotions – his faint scent is lost in the soup of alpha testosterone on the roof – but I feel a rekindling of the fury in my belly as I think of Trench wrapping his meaty hand around Nate’s delicate neck.

“We’re going for a pack run tomorrow night,” I say on a whim. “Do you want to join us?”

We’ve got a free slot in the official agenda, and we agreed to find some time to give our wolves a run, but we never talked about inviting outsiders.

Too bad, I think, with a mental shrug in Cam’s direction. He might not want to step into another pack’s problems, but any pack who doesn’t treat Nate right doesn’t deserve him.

“Oh, um…”

But Nate doesn’t get to answer, because a stranger is suddenly walking into the party, bringing a fresh gust of alpha pheromones with him. He also has two younger guys at his back. Twins, who not only are identical, but are also dressed alike in navy blazers, white Oxford shirts, and gray trousers. They drip wealth, from their expensive haircuts to their alligator belts, but it comes with an obvious dose of entitlement that leaves me cold.

Still, their entrance gets everyone turning their way, the alpha at the front beaming around like he’s the guest of honor. I nudge Nate. “Who are the late arrivals?”

“It’s the Alpha of Atlanta.” There’s a strained note in his voice, and he seems to press even further back into the shadows. “He shouldn’t be here.”

I frown, not liking the sour edge to his scent. I’m still gulping down alpha fumes, so I can’t tell if it’s just anxiety or something more worrying. “You know him?”

He pauses, then gives a stiff nod. “He won’t be here for anything good.”

I’m tempted to suggest we leave – my dad can handle whatever is going on with this other alpha – but one of the twins catches sight of us. And the grin that spreads across his face makes my hackles rise. “Who’s that idiot?”

Nate makes a choking sound. “Brock Rawson. The other one’s Bryce.”

“Catchy.”

But my sarcastic comment is swallowed by loud laughter from the Alpha of Atlanta. He looks around the group, those big white teeth flashing as he focuses on my dad. “From what I hear, Ferrier, you’re putting together a pack council to control the east coast. Surely that warrants sending me an invitation.”

“You’re mistaken about its purpose, Rawson,” my dad says smoothly, and I feel a zing of pride at how composed he looks. The Atlanta Alpha is obviously here to make waves, but my dad is completely unruffled. “We’ll be overseeing the wellbeing of our packs, not controlling them. And there’s no change to territory. We’re not interested in extending beyond our current borders.”

“Well, that’s interesting news,” Rawson says, although the look he shoots the twins is smug. “I know our friends in Kentucky and the Carolinas were curious about your plans.”

“They got the memo, same as you, Rawson.” The Alpha of Maine says, clearly unimpressed by the other alpha’s bluster. “And you’ve had a couple of months to ask any questions and get whatever assurances you need.”

But the Atlanta Alpha waves a big hand at him. “Oh, don’t mistake my presence here as concern, McDonald. I just happen to see this as a golden opportunity.”

My dad raises a brow, like he’s humoring the other alpha. “In what way?”

“Well, why carve off a portion of the coast when you could have it all? You bring Georgia into the fold, I could give you everything from Florida north, and this side of the Mississippi. Double your territory overnight.”

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