Page 68 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
And then she saw her father.
John Heath cut through the crowd with that same serpentine precision he always carried, his glass still miraculously clutched in one hand as though nothing, not rage,not chaos, could spill his precious whiskey. His eyes were cold as ice chips when they found her.
Rosalia froze, every muscle tight.
“Of course, he brought you,” he spat, striding toward her, voice like venom dripping into the air.
Rosalia recoiled instinctively, pressing Eva back against the wall, her body a shield between child and male. The poison in his tone struck as deeply as any blow, conjuring old ghosts, the sting of his hand, the bruises of his grip, the endless litany of her inadequacies.
“What,” he sneered, “no more self-satisfied little quips? How disappointing.”
“Stay behind me,” she whispered to Eva, who clutched at her dress with frightened fingers. Her throat tightened in panic and confusion as her father’s keen eyes explored the room, something vicious and wild in them. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t find words. Only the pulse of her wolf thrumming,protect, protect, protect.
And then a shadow fell over them.
Rick.
He stalked from the chamber like a storm given form, fury carved across his face. His eyes locked on John with such cold violence that the entire lobby seemed to hold its breath.
“Get away from them,” Rick snarled, voice low, dangerous, the kind of sound that made every predator in earshot take note.
Rosalia’s breath caught.
John smirked, tilting his glass in a mocking salute. “Touchy, Reinhardt. Careful, your temper doesn’t bleed you dry.”
What the hell is going on?
Rick stepped forward, every line of his body taut with the promise of violence. Rosalia saw the flicker in his eyes, the wolf clawing beneath his skin, begging to be loosed.
John only chuckled, turning to his retinue. “I think we’re done here. The humans won’t risk continuing the meetings, not after that shitshow. Let’s get back to our territory before Rick here decides to pull any more poorly considered little tricks.”
Rick’s answering snarl, deep and primal, turned the heads of nearly every alpha in the room.
John merely smirked, eyes passing one final time over Rosalia, his lips curving into a sneer, before he turned and strode out of the room, several wolves on his heels.
The moment he was gone, the tension snapped. Rick’s jaw clenched, breath harsh, and for one terrible heartbeat, Rosalia thought he might pursue. But then Felix’s broad frame appeared, sliding between Rick and the dispersing alphas with the easy authority only he carried.
“That’s enough,” Felix said firmly.
Rick’s lip curled, but he did not move.
Felix’s gaze softened as it flicked past him to Rosalia and Eva, still pressed against the wall. “It’s handled,” he assured her quietly, before focusing back on Rick. His fists were clenched, his face a storm cloud. He was breathing slow and deep, muscles trembling, eyes fixed on a point in the wall.
Rosalia hadn’t seen him this angry since John had demanded their marriage so many months ago.
“The Black Claws,” Felix explained under his breath, “got wind of…of our plans. Called us out on it in front of everyone.”
Rosalia blinked, heart still thundering. She did not understand, not entirely, but she heard the weight in Felix’s tone.
Rick bared his teeth, his voice more animal than human. “We’ve broken no law.”
“I know,” Felix’s voice was calm, measured, as though soothing a feral beast, “and thankfully you had your contingencies in place. We’ve covered every angle.”
Rick’s fist clenched at his side, the leather of his glove creaking. Fury radiated off him in waves, so thick Rosalia could taste it on her tongue.
Felix sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Cool off before you do something stupid. Go. Take them to the hotel.”
For a moment, Rick didn’t move. Then his gaze cut to Rosalia and Eva, her arms still wrapped protectively around the girl, her heart still racing. Something shifted in his expression. His fury did not vanish, but it turned, sharpened into purpose.
