Page 8 of Haze

She doesn’t shy away from my hand. Gently, I run my fingers into the hair at her temple, lifting it into a slight tussle before tucking it behind her ear, displaying a diamond earring.

Withdrawing my hand, I don’t even have to get my fingers close to my face to smell them. The sweet water lilies scent I’ve been chasing is strong. Shaking my head, I meet her eyes. She knew the entire time and was baiting me. My mate is perfect.

Our mate is perfect. My wolf corrects, not wanting to be left out of her love. He pushes forward, trying to draw hers out as well.

There’s no way she doesn’t know. But Lena’s wolf doesn’t rise to meet him.

Her beautiful lips pull together politely before changing the subject. “Mm-hmm. How long have you been fringing the territory?”

“Not long, I’ve been interviewing for a position with a university, and my final interview was today. I was offered the position and planned to speak with the Alpha this week yet. It’s all above board,” I answer confidently, stacking proof I’m here for her.

Lena’s sitting tall now, no longer pretending she’s relaxed. She pulls her hair forward, covering her ear and neck again.

“An Alpha male looking to move into Ardelean country without speaking to The Leviathan first. Bold.” Her judgmental tone, while not incorrect, irks me.

She tips her head while reaching for her glass and takes a long drink, waiting for my answer.

I’m enamored with her. Everything about her draws me in. I bet her wolf is gorgeous. What do I need to do to get her to show me the animal within?

I don’t want to look away. But I do have to address her pointed attack. What I’m doing isn’t against the laws or customs. I’ve also heard the Ardelean Alphas here are a bit more lax on tradition despite being royalty. While who I am probably makes a slightly more delicate situation, it’s not that she needs to know, right now.

By securing this position with a well-known and established university, I hope to leverage wanting a peaceful retirement from being Magnus’s Enforcer against it. The facts are straightforward for my case: I’m no longer welcome in Ireland, I’m no longer an O’Brien, and as such, I’m no longer a threat to the Ardelean Bloodline. Old-world wolf families haven’t always played nicely. The Ardeleans and O’Briens are no strangers to disagreements. But I’ve changed my last name and have my payout from the take. My ties to Ireland are done.

I shrug and draw a long sip of my beer again, formulating words. “I don’t think Cade Alden and I will have any issues. I pose no threat to anything he wants or needs.”

“Our Alpha is best to judge, not you.” Lena smirks.

Her beer is empty, and she spins the glass on the bar. Without even flagging him down, the bartender takes the empty glass and sets a water in front of her with a curt nod and a smile.

“Regular here then?” I tip my head to her water glass.

It’s my turn to change the conversation away from something I don’t want to discuss. Knowing more about her is my only care in the world. I’ll deal with The Leviathan later.

She sips her water and sets it back down. I catch her eyes examining the ink poking out from under my jacket sleeve.

“Something like that.”

“Something like that,” I echo.

So, she’s of the Ardelean Pack. I can get used to Minnesota.

She goes to pick up her glass again but puts it back down, her posture rigid. Her whole demeanor is well polished. It’s nearly too perfect.

I fish for more. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“You did, you’ve said it once,” she answers with a smirk. Dropping the volume of her voice again, Lena continues. “The thing is, I don’t recall you giving me yours.”

“Finn.” I keep it short. We’re dancing this delicate exchange of pointed remarks. “You know why I’m here. Why are you? Hardly seems like the place for my mate to be unaccompanied at this hour.”

“Mate?” She quirks a brow but ignores my question, taking another sip of her water. After setting it back down on the bar, she follows a drop of condensation down the side of the glass with her fingertip. “Assumptions will do nothing but get you a free donkey around here.” She cocks her head. “Who’s to say I’m not already mated?”

“Surely any man with enough tact and taste to find you and offer you his collar wouldn’t dare let you out of his sight long enough to have a beer with a stranger.” My stomach drops into a hard knot.

It didn’t occur to me that she might be mated. The collar on her dress is too high to reveal if she’s wearing someone else’s mark.

Lena shifts in her chair, her finger back to playing with her coaster. Tension ripples from her. Biting her bottom lip, she withholds the answer to my question.

I press again. “So, what leaves you sitting at the bar, alone, on a Monday night?”

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