Page 65 of Pack Kasen: Part 1

He shrugs. “He left.”

“Where’d he go?”

The door swings open without warning and we both jump.

Gregor fills the doorway.

He doesn’t say a word. He just looks at Leo and points to the hallway.

Leo gets up with a resigned sigh. “I guess I’m in trouble, huh?”

“Yes, you are,” Gregor says.

“It was Rupert’s fault. He thought hiding in here was a good idea.” His innocent expression might have convinced me if I didn’t know he was full of it.

Amusement fills Gregor’s eyes as he ruffles Leo’s hair. “I don’t think your mom is going to buy that this time.”

Leo pads out, dragging his lion along. That thing must be filthy if he’s always in the habit of doing that.

Just outside the doorway, he twists to face me. “Bye, Kat.”

I lift my hand in a wave, enjoying our brief conversation more than I thought I would. “Bye, Leo. Hope Rupert doesn’t get into too much trouble.”

“It won’t be Rupert who gets in trouble,” he mutters, then brightens as he looks at me. “But you could?—”

Gregor nudges him the rest of the way out when he lingers in the doorway. “Nope. No one is taking the fall for you. Your mom is near the creek.Go.”

Gregor steps inside and closes the door, giving me a thoughtful look.

“Cute kid,” I say and get comfortable in bed since I missed my chance to escape.

If I wasn’t convinced Leo found his way in here himself, I’d have thought it was the Wolf King who sent him. I probably wouldn’t have hesitated to answer any question he asked me. But the Wolf King would never send a kid in here. Not after what Finan told me.

A feral killed his family. No way would he be sending a kid in here with me in case I turned into some slavering beast.

“Leo seems to enjoy giving his mother gray hairs.”

I nod. “And the reason he isn’t in the schoolroom?”

Gregor crosses his arms as he studies me. “His schooling is brief for now. An hour in the morning and another in the afternoon is about as long as he will sit still for.”

“Oh.” I’m tempted to ask about the other children in this pack, but figure he’s under strict orders not to tell me anything important. The Wolf King seems the type to growl an order like that.

“How’s your throat?”

“A little better.”

He nods. “And are you hungry?”

“No, thanks.”

“Thirsty?”

“A bit.”

“What were you dreaming of before?”

“My dad.”

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