Page 66 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
I know who I’m talking to. The question I have is if you remember who you are?
There was no mistaking the challenge in that question. Was I the alpha of our pack, or a traitor who wanted nothing more than to be close to Sylvie?
In a flash I was on Cassius, pinning him to the ground before he could so much as blink. Cassius lay still, indicating submission.
I bit down harder, piercing skin. Only then did Cassius finally whimper and indicate he’d had enough. Instead of letting go, Itossed my head to the side, throwing Cassius away and ripping larger holes in his neck as I did.
I know exactly who I am,I snarled at him.I am your alpha, and you obey my orders. Challenge me like that again, and you will never get up. Am I understood?
Cassius glared at me, full of hatred, but then slowly nodded.
And don’t worry. I’ll remind Noel of that fact. Personally.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sylvie
The first sip of coffee the next morning had barely brushed my lips when the door rattled under a very perfunctory, business-like knock.
“Go away,” I said to my mug. I needed time alone. Time to process what the heck had happened last night.
What seemed like precisely thirty seconds passed before another formal knock. That repeated again, as I took a matching sip of coffee each time, trying to pry my eyelids open.
“Fine,” I growled on the third knock, getting up and going to answer it. That sort of persistence was unlikely to be random.
I pulled open the door to reveal a short man, perhaps all of five and a half feet tall, looking directly at me with a beaming smile. He wore a tan jacket that had to be warm in the summer, even before the three-piece suit I could see peeking out from beneath it. A thin-brimmed bowler hat topped his head, which he now reached up and doffed with one hand in a very professional manner, bowing slightly at the same time, brown eyes light and matching the smile on his face. The other handheld an old, worn black briefcase that was half lost among the folds of his coat.
“Hello.” I barely got the word out before he started speaking.
“Hello, my name is Walter Mayhew, LLP. I represent Mayhew, Mayhew, Mayhew, and Farnsworth. May I come in?”
Even an auctioneer would have blinked and needed a moment to process the torrent of words that came racing out of the little man’s mouth.
“What?” It was the best I could come up with on three sips of coffee.
“My name is Walter Mayhew, LLP. I represent Mayhew, Mayhew, Mayhew, and Farnsworth.” Pause, though I suspected it more for me than for him. “May I come in?”
He was so nice, so polite and even charming that I was already starting to back away from the door to let him in before I realized a rather important point. Despite the spiel, I hadnoidea who he was. Nor was I in the mood to have more strange men in my house at that point, no matter how nice seeming.
I furiously buried the question about whether Lincoln was truly still a stranger or not. Now was not the time for that box to be opened.
“How can I help you?” I asked instead, making it clear I wasn’t opening the door for him. Not yet, at least.
Walter Mayhew’s smile became so big it was like turning on a high beam. “Of course you may. My firm, and me specifically, I might add, was in charge of your grandmother’s estate. What is nowyourestate. All of it.” He cocked his head sideways. “Assuming youarethe Sylvie Anne Wilson, granddaughter of Helen Wilson, that I was told so much about and shown so many pictures of.”
“That is me,” I confirmed, grateful he spoke at a more reasonable speed. “Um, come in, I guess.”
“Is this not an opportune time?” Walter asked apologetically. “It’s five past eight. I figured you would be awake now.”
“Just come in,” I said, his cheerfulness too much to handle on less than half a cup of coffee.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
I walked back to the kitchen at the rear of the house, grabbing my mug while Walter hung up his jacket and took off his shoes.
“May I trouble you for some tea?” he asked the instant he entered the kitchen, taking a seat at the table with surprising casualness. Like he’d been here before.
“Uh, I’m sorry, my grandmother didn’t drink tea. I don’t have a—”
