Page 36 of The Wolf King's Mate

I didn’t say anything else, just opening the dishwasher and getting to work putting things away. I vaguely remembered where everything went after snooping earlier, so it didn’t take as much effort as I would’ve expected.

“You went through all of my stuff yesterday,” he said, watching me through the corner of his eye as he put things away.

“Yeah. Don’t know how I missed my phone.”

“I had it with me when I came back for dinner. When your wolf took over.”

Ah.

Well, that made sense.

“Thanks for giving it back,” I said.

He grunted.

We worked in silence as he cooked the eggs. I put the dishes away, then started loading the dishwasher again.

I was only partially done when he loaded up plates, throwing some butter and jam on toast before he carried them to a pair of chairs under an extra strip of the countertop, near the pantry.

We’d be sitting really close to each other if I went over, so I kept working on the dishes. It would be easier to eat after he was done.

“The food’s ready,” Enzo said.

“I’ll eat when you’re done.”

“No. You’re my mate, not my fucking house cleaner. Sit down and eat.” His tone told me the meal wasn’t optional.

I supposed I should’ve expected as much.

Wolves had a thing for feeding their mates. Most males would sit the woman they were dating on their lap and feed her from their fingers a few times at the beginning of their relationship, just to tell everyone she was taken.

“Fine. You don’t need to growl at me.” I left the dishwasher open. I’d be going back to it. I didn’t have anything else to do.

Enzo watched me as I tried to fold myself into the remaining barstool without bumping him.

It failed.

There wasn’t enough space.

My side was pressed entirely against the Alpha’s when I finally picked up the fork, trying hard to lean away.

He didn’t comment on my leaning.

The food was delicious, but he didn’t say anything when I complimented him.

“So, you trapped me here,” I said, as we finished eating. He had significantly more food than me, but he ate faster.

I wasn’t trying to piss him off. I didn’t want to make him angry, or make my situation any worse. But we had to talk before he left again.

And he hadn’t killed anyone, because I asked him not to. That seemed like a good sign.

“You’re not trapped. The door doesn’t lock from the outside,” Enzo said.

“Okay. But you told your people not to look at me, smell me, or touch me. They’re going to pretend I don’t exist.”

He scoffed at me. “They know I meant sexually.”

“Are you sure about that?”

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