Page 30 of Defiant
“Alpha Maddox is very disciplined. But, if I had to say, I think white chocolate-covered pretzels are his favorite.”
“Sweet and salty,” I say aloud, though internally, I’m telling my brain to come up with something more clever. Something useful. I very much doubt I can buy Black’s goodwill with some damn pretzels. But Matthew mentioned discipline. That is similar to my mother. Discipline and structure … control. Alphas love that shit.
“Does he ever do anything to relax?” Maybe if I can get him relaxed.
Matthew raises a brow and gives me a look that makes me blush fire engine red. “Besidesthat.”
The old man clucks his tongue, thinking as he slides the tape gently around my waist. “Well, he does like leatherworking.”
“That’s a thing?”
Matthew chuckles. “Yes.”
“But…” I trail off trying to picture it.
“He creates images and imprints them into wallets or belts or journals.”
“Who still uses wallets?” I ask, mostly aiming for a chuckle from Matthew—whom I’ve decided is a bit of a sweetheart—but simultaneously filing that information away. I don’t think it can possibly be useful ever, but who the hell knows? I tuck a strand of still-damp hair behind my ear as the old man struggles to bend to one knee and measure from my waist to my ankle. “Can I do that for you?”
He waves me off. “I’m spry. I do yoga.”
My jaw drops when I see the old man move to sit criss-cross applesauce so that he can measure my lower half. Unlike most men, whose knees end up around their ears when they try to sit that way, Matthew’s knees are nearly parallel to the carpet.
“Yoga?” I question, intrigued.
“I’d say I go for my health but … the views are pretty damn good. Friend Charlie got me into it. Every couple of classes, one of us gets a muscle spasm.” He gives me a naughty grin. “Those are the best days.”
I full-on belly laugh, probably ruining a few of his measurements as I picture the pair of them pretending to tweak their back so that all the women in the class will fawn over them. Suddenly, Matthew morphs from a butler into the kind of grandfather I always imagined, never having met my own. Sweet. Fun. Pushing the envelope a little. “If you ever need a yoga buddy, like Charlie can’t make it or something…”
Matthew pushes off the floor to his knees and then stands. He gives me a wink. “The day that Charlie misses a class is the day he’s dead. You can join us sometime, if…” he trails off and his eyes dart to the side.
“I would love to see you in action,” I tell him.
But he’s moving around me before I finish the sentence.
I turn, only to see someone new on the stairs, a man with tawny brown hair and narrowed eyes, wearing jeans and a light blue t-shirt.
He’s a wolf—I know instantly by his smell, a sharp grapefruit and vodka bite to his scent—and an alpha at that. Underneath his normal scent is an iron tang. Blood.
I rush around Matthew toward the other man, asking, “Are you okay?” I realize there’s a bandage wrapped tightly around his chest; I can make out the bulge underneath his shirt.
Instantly, the guy on the stairs flares his nostrils to scent me. His eyes dilate and he doesn’t blink as he steps off the final step, heading toward me. His breathing grows ragged and I see his teeth turn to fangs.
Something is very, very wrong with him.
I backpedal toward Matthew, turning my head to make sure the old butler is out of this guy’s path.
But the stranger doesn’t focus on the butler. His eyes never leave me. I see a flash of gold and realize that his wolf is close to the surface.
Shit.
What do I do? I try to think back to things my dad told me. Palms out, head tilted to the side for submission. Avoid eye contact.
“Fuck.” Matthew yanks a cell phone out of his pants and lifts it to his ear. “Cody came downstairs. No!” Matthew smashes a button on the phone and I hear Black’s voice roar through the speaker.
“Cody, get upstairs now. Get in bed and do not leave until morning.” The alpha tone of his command is undeniable—even my back hunches and my ears come to my shoulders, though I’m not the one getting yelled at.
Cody shakes in his spot, clearly torn, his thick hands clenching and unclenching. He takes a shuffling step closer to me, his nose twitching as he inhales again.
