Page 31 of Claimed By the Alpha Wolves

Those two are going to be a problem.

FOURTEEN

Faye

The morning had gone by in a rush, probably because my nerves were so raw. Between fearing the next Selection game and seeing Kurt everywhere I went, I’ve felt strangely weak and unsteady. Now, I’m waiting in the ballroom for whatever fresh hell the council of ultimas have planned for us.

Luckily, Ifinallyhave a break from Kurt, having not seen him in the crowd. At least for now. I also haven’t seen Cayson and Ezra either since last night on the lake, which is something I’m not sure how I feel about. On one hand, I feel safer when they’re around. But on the other hand, if I don’t want alphas, the last thing I need is to keep feeling a connection between the two men, one who doesn’t want an omega and the other who seems to wantallthe omegas.

I’ll only find trouble with those two.

“Faye,” Addilyn says, pushing through the crowd to get next to me. “You look beautiful!”

Today, I’m wearing a pale pink dress that’s made of delicate lace, with long sleeves and a low neck and back. It reaches my ankles and flounces a little when I move. The apparel woman gave me a talking-to about ruining my last dress in the water, nomatter how much I tried to tell her it wasn’t my fault, so I wouldnotbe getting so much as a crumb on this dress. Apparently, both the apparel lady and my alpha planned on me taking these clothes to “my alpha’s new pack,” and I wasn’t to ruin them.

“Oh, hey,” I say, blinking away my exhaustion.

It was hard to sleep last night. I kept dreaming about Cayson and Ezra, their hands and faces coming and going all night. The weird thing is that what kept startling me awake wasn’t nightmares and cold sweats, it was how warm and safe I felt with them.

Every time the realization came to me, I woke up feeling frightened and confused. I had to remind myself that the two men are alphas.I’m not safe with them… I’m not safe with anyone.The thought kept ringing through my head, making it impossible to sleep, even while my dreams were whispering the complete opposite.

“I saw you didn’t eat at breakfast,” she mutters, holding out a napkin to me that has a scone in it.

I take it and smile at her, though I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat it. When I have a rough night’s sleep, my hunger usually fades away. Pair that with the anxiety currently raging through me, and my stomach might just send back anything I try to eat.

Not that I’m going to tell her that.

“Thank you,” I say.

She smiles. “We didn’t get to talk this morning. Sorry that everyone took the spots around me at the table.”

I return her smile. “No problem at all.”

“You doing okay? I heard you ended up in the lake.”

“It was nothing,” I say, not sure exactly how to explainthatweird incident.

“Well, try to stay out of trouble today,” she teases.

“I’m just going to fade into the wallpaper,” I joke.

She’s about to say more when the ultima, Lance, appears at the front of the room. He’s wearing a dark suit that only makes his blond hair stand out more. For a middle aged man, he’s in excellent shape, standing taller and broader than every man in the room, which is no surprise given that he’s an ultima.

“Good morning!” he says, his voice booming through the ballroom, silencing everyone. “Today’s event is all about rhythm and chemistry. Dancing is an excellent metaphor for your connection with someone. How you move on the dancefloor translates to how you move throughout life. Everyone, please grab a partner. Don’t be shy! Try and talk to someone you haven’t yet.”

Music starts playing from a band in one corner. Addilyn squeals as a nearby alpha immediately snatches her for a dance, then she gives me a wink as she spins away. I nervously tuck the scone into my pocket, making a note not to forget it so the apparel lady doesn’t have any additional reason to hate me. Then I slowly creep backward, fully intending to blend in with the wallpaper like I’d planned.

“Hello, Faye,” a cold voice says.

An image flashes of dirty blond hair. Eyes so dark they must be black. Harsh lines of a face filled with cruelty. A chill rolls down my spine as two hands come to my waist, pulling me onto the dance floor. My stomach drops, and it’s like all the blood in my body has turned to cement.

“Kurt,” I breathe, fear making my mouth taste like metal.

He grins down at me, his eyes as cold and calculating as ever. Just the way I remember them. I see it again—that awkward bend of Miles’ neck, his empty eyes, once so full of life, staring across the woods. The pool of blood under his head.

The boot print on his neck.

“You’re looking beautiful in that dress,” he murmurs, his hand tightening on my waist. I have to fight all my instincts notto let out a scream. “It’s almost like someone told the clothing peopleexactlywhich color to put you in.”

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