Page 11 of The Alpha and His Enemy Wolf
After one of the shifters set the table near the cot, they placed the trays on them as well as bottled juice from inside the bag.
“Anything else, Alpha?” one of his goons asked him.
“No, that will be all.”
After they left, she asked Rafe, “What’s this?” She eyed the trays.
Rafe motioned to the table. “You see, maybe your backward pack isn’t accustomed to things of this nature, but this is something us Franconia shifters call food,” he teased. “They are edible, tasty, and provide nourishment. We also have these liquid accompaniments called drinks. Quite refreshing. You should try it.”
She groaned. “You know what I mean.” She snorted. “And you think I have a smart mouth,” she rumbled. “Why is the meal set for two?”
One side of his mouth twitched into a grin. “I’m not going to just sit here and watch you eat. We can enjoy a meal while we figure out what to do next.”
She appraised him for several seconds before she replied. “What do you mean by us figuring out what to do?”
Rafe stepped closer. “Are you a left-handed or right?”
“Right.”
He unfastened the rope binding her right arm, her left remained attached to the wall. She circled her wrist and shook out her arm. For a moment, she visualized beating him with it, but the food smelled delicious. Besides, punching him would get her nowhere but the brief satisfaction of hitting this damn shifter. It would only make her hungrier and no closer to escaping.
He pushed the tray toward her. “Eat.”
Mila didn’t hesitate. She scooped up a massive forkful of scrambled eggs and moaned when the hot, delicious mixture met her tongue.
“Glad you like it.” He chuckled.
She ignored him and devoured half a strip of bacon in one bite. Rafe ate opposite her, and neither spoke until their plates were nearly empty. She washed the breakfast down with a gulp of orange juice before returning to the food.
“My, you are hungry,” he said.
“I didn’t have the chance to hunt last night.”
“Perhaps you should have done so before you volunteered to sneak over here.”
She frowned. “I hadn’t planned on getting caught.”
He grinned. “No criminals do.”
“I’m not a criminal,” she refuted in between bites.
“I don’t lock up the innocent,” Rafe stated.
She finished the last bite and swallowed, pushing the tray away. “What the hell do you want to talk about?”
Rafe chewed as if he had all the time in the world. Naturally, he was in no rush. He wasn’t locked up and deprived of food. He finished and leaned back once again, probing her with a penetrating stare. “I’ve come up with an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“You and I may be able to accomplish a great deal together in resolving the differences between our packs. Especially since the attempt at bringing an outside mediator in didn’t work out.” He cocked his head and then gestured with a raised hand. “Except for Grayson.”
“Your beta, right?”
“Yes. He was fortunate—or unfortunate—enough to discover that the mediator he’d hired to come up was his fated mate. Hadn’t you heard?”
“No, I heard that he sent his mate over to deceive us. That she was attempting to trick us into agreeing to a bad settlement.”
Mila was surprised that she’d even heard that. Her father rarely told her anything. It was as if she wasn’t important enough to be told.
