Page 24 of The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart

"Take a plate," he says, motioning to a stack of mismatched dishes. I'd left them drying over the drainboard and somehow hadn't put them back. The plates look so bright and unfamiliar that they could almost pass as good china.

"Why feed me if you plan on killing me anyway?" I grumble, raising my brow in mock disdain.

Okay, maybe it's not entirely in jest.

It's easier to pretend that we're play-acting a comedy routine, but inside, I feel shaky and vulnerable.

Luckily, my stomach is empty and growling, so I make myself a plate.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee almost makes me purr. I've been in lots of awful situations, but damn do I appreciate the small things when they appear in my life.

"What do you say we finish what we started?" Graham asks. "We'll take my car, drive to The Grey Manor, and continue our conversation."

"Why can't we do it here?" I challenge.

"Because my brothers are meeting and it's important we're there," he replies. "Eat up. We leave in thirty minutes. I'll make a call to have my car brought here."

I roll my eyes. So much for this being a democracy. Once Graham sets his mind to something, it's like all will obey him, the dogs and me included.

He has that strong profile and a domineering voice, and with what I'd learned about him yesterday, no wonder why I'm so stuck obeying the dictatorial man. After all, he has one thing none of the other men I've been used to dealing with have.

Claws.

And teeth.

And probably a raging big red laser sign blinking on top of his head saying “Warning”! This man might most definitely bite.

Did I mention that I suddenly seemed to have developed a thing for hot guys with a tail as big as their...ego? I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't stop having disturbing thoughts.

"Okay, fine," I say reluctantly and hold back a grimace.

His forehead puckers, creasing a deep V in the middle of his gorgeous face. He's way better looking with his dark eyes open than closed, and I should know. Because when I get irritated, the idea of ripping his head off is hard to dismiss.

As promised, thirty minutes later, I'm sitting in a black SUV headed toward Graham's childhood home.

"Would it have killed you to take a shower and change out of your dirty clothes?" Graham asks.

His arrogant comment gets me riled up. Okay, to be perfectly honest, he probably doesn't mean it as an insult. I wonder if he can smell me, though. Now I feel embarrassed that I hadn't taken a moment to take a shower.

My jaw clenches and I cross my hands, my eyes set on the passing buildings as I look outside the tinted window. His lack of patience hits me at the most vulnerable times, and this morning, in my yesterday's clothes, not showering and still hoping my hair looks decent, is the worst possible time for it.

"Tell me a little bit about your family," I say, focusing on my own statement. Who doesn't like talking about themselves and their family, am I right?

Graham grins, letting the previous topic go. "Which branch should I start with?"

"Why do you have so many siblings?" I inquire.

"Most magical families have big families," Graham explains. "Wolves are a proud species who like showing off. Having a big family reflects status and affluence to us."

"So being fertile is important to wolves," I muse.

Graham chuckles, obviously amused by something. I hate that I don't know what. It must have to do with some hidden wolf joke that I'm not a part of. I'm pretty sure that's it.

"Having the ability to spawn a large number of offspring holds a lot of value to us. The more powerful they are, the bigger the pride," Graham says after a moment.

"How many siblings do you have?" I ask though I'm pretty sure he already told me. Yesterday is turning out to be a big blurry mess.

"I have three older brothers," Graham replies. "You'll have a chance to meet all three of them, including their wives, and my parents."

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