Page 15 of The Alpha's Grave Secrets

Hati nods, and Bruce sets his jaw, offended that I didn’t trust the team to keep this secret. But despite his irritation, he bites his tongue and nods alongside Hati.

“Go on home and get some rest. You’ll need it. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

My phone wakesme at 6:45 in the morning. I groan as I reach out for it and answer without checking the caller ID. “Agent Blackwood,” I say, stifling a yawn.

“Kato,” I freeze the moment I hear her. It’s Elara. “I’m sorry to call you so early; it’s just that I need to talk to you and your team as soon as possible.”

“Is everything alright?” I hop out of bed, throwing my pants on without a second thought.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’ve been working through a few of the models I typically use for my clients, and I’ve recovered a few more of my memories. Would you mind coming to my house?”

“I’m on my way. I’ll call my team and see who is awake to join us.”

“I’ll brew up a pot of coffee for you all.”

“Better make it extra strong. It’s been a long week.”

“Is there any other kind?” She says, and I can hear the smirk in her voice. A smile creeps onto my lips at the thought.

“No, there isn’t.”

Only Gun and Callie answered their phones, and each of them said they’d be ready for me to pick them up. I leave voicemails for Hati and Bruce and shoot them texts for good measure.

“Looks like Elara beat us to it,” Gun says as we near the house, winking at Callie.

“I’m sorry again about yesterday, Callie. I wasn’t fair to you.”

“Let’s leave it in the past,” she says, offering me a genuine smile. A weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying lifts off my shoulders as she does, and I let out a freeing breath.

The moment Elara opens the door to her house, I am instantly hit by the smell of coffee. My mouth waters and it’s almost distracting enough that I nearly don’t notice the man lurking behind her in the kitchen:Ezra.

“Thank you all for coming, especially so early,” Elara says, stepping aside so we can enter. Her wrists are bony, coming out of the arms of her oversized wool sweater.

I can’t stop frowning as I notice the discernible lack of color in her complexion. She’s too skinny now. What the hell has been going on in this house?

Elara gestures towards the worn wooden table, which holds a tray of pastries, cream, sugar, mugs, and a steaming pot of coffee. Her home is charming, like a fairytale cottage.

A combination of bright colors, floral wallpapers, and rich, luxurious textiles. Plants litter every windowsill, and quite a few big pots are in every corner of the floor. It isn’t cluttered, in fact it is very neat and clean. This definitely feels like her.

“Have a seat and help yourself to coffee and goodies,” she says, smiling and sitting down with her half-finished cup of coffee in hand. She eyes me as I pour my coffee, thinking I won’t notice, but her cheeks turn pink when I look up and give her a wink. She looks into the bottom of her coffee like she’s reading a crystal ball.

The man’s phone rings, and he steps forward, “Honey, I’ve got to answer this, but I’ll be right back with you.”

She nods without looking at him, and after he’s stepped outside, Elara says, “That’s Ezra, my boyfriend. He lives here with me.”

My stomach drops. No matter when my brain knows something is true, it doesn’t feel good to hear it said aloud.

“I’m sure it’s nice to have someone else in the house with you after everything you’ve been through. I’m glad you aren’t here alone.” I sound much more convincing than I expected.

Elara’s eyes widen, and she gives me an appreciative smile. As my stomach twists into knots and all I want to do is reach out and touch her, my heart skips a beat, knowing that I’m the reason that smile crossed her lips.

Gun’s on his third pastry and has yet to say a word. Callie elbows him, and he looks up, wryly smiling. “ Delicious pastries.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“You said you recovered more of your memories?” Callie says, bringing us all back on track.

“I did,” Elara nods, taking a long, slow sip of her coffee. “There was a clock in the room where I was being held. An old-school clock. It tick-tick-ticked all hours of the day and night. It nearly drove me mad.”

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