Page 32 of Pack Captive

"You look...lovely," I said, clearing my throat. Why was it so easy to talk to any other woman but this one? "The Elder Caller will be impressed."

To my surprise, Ayla let out a small laugh, but it wasn't amused. "If she's impressed, I hope it's more for my skills than my looks."

Calian glanced at me sidelong as he picked through the jewelry box.

Responsibility. She desired to be of worth, not just a figurehead.

"She will be," I assured her. "But looks are part of it. The presence of the Callers boosts the pack's morale, and seeing you look so...shiny, so beautiful, will give them more hope than you looking...underfed."

"Shiny and beautiful," she repeated, and for a moment a spear went through my heart.

I was an idiot. Who said that sort of thing?

But Ayla didn't look disgusted. She looked me over consideringly, which was a step in the right direction.

"I understand that." She looked up at me, even took a step closer. Her sweet vanilla-honey scent filled my nose, and my cock stirred as I imagined burying my face in that thick, dark hair. "A filthy temple is no place to worship the moon."

I had a feeling it was less the jewels and finery that was appealing to her than the concept of giving her people something to hope for.

That I could understand.

"No, it's not. The temples are kept pristine here, and so are our Moon Callers."

Calian finally fished out a gold necklace with ropes of webbed chains and held it up. Tiny aquamarines caught the light as he moved behind her. "Hold up your hair."

I saw Ayla's throat move as she swallowed and obeyed.

There was a sudden, thick tension in the air, and it was lost on no one that she was between us, close enough for me to touch, with Calian's hands at her throat.

She looked up at me as he draped the necklace over her prominent collar bones and began to fasten it at the nape of her neck. Her sea blue eyes were searching my face, looking for something I couldn't fathom.

What had changed? What had Calian told her?

"You'll be free to visit your pack at the celebration," I told her, my voice gruff again. She made me want to push her to the bed and rip all these pointless sparkles and skirts off her. "I gave you my word that they would be cared for."

She nodded, then frowned, looking at the pile of rags she'd arrived in. For whatever reason, they'd been neatly folded and left on a dresser top. "Will you let the maid know not to touch those?"

I couldn't imagine why she wanted them, but I nodded. Anything to show her I meant this in good faith.

Ayla didn't seem satisfied. She reached out and touched my forearm.

My veins fizzed with a burst of sudden power, and every cell in my body strained to touch her, to enfold her in my arms—

"Promise," she demanded, staring right into my eyes. It was the first time she'd demanded anything of me or looked me in the face with anything other than fury. "They're...they’re more important to me than I can say."

"I swear by the moon, nobody will touch them." I placed a fingertip on the rune marked on my forehead, making it clear that it was a binding promise.

Ayla's shoulders relaxed. A few seconds passed, but she still hadn't taken her hand off my arm. "Thank you, Alpha."

From anyone else, the honorific would've just been an accepted part of life.

From her, I wanted to hear my name.

"Ryden," I told her. "When you're with me, I'm Ryden."

Ayla smiled. It was hesitant, and the wariness hadn't left entirely, but it was real and warm. "Thank you, Ryden."

Anything for you.

---