“You’ll see when we get there. Give me five to shower.” He heads for his room. Stops. “And, killer?”
“What?”
“Tuck that T- shirt in your pants. It’ll look less like it’s mine.”
He wants to show her every corner of his territory. The deep blue lakes and the snow-capped peaks. Moss-draped trees and rock spires. He wants to be with her for each marveled intake of breath.
THE DRIVE LASTS ABOUT HALF AN HOUR, ONCE AGAIN ALONG the jagged coast. Koen spends most of it on the phone with a dozen different people, discussing pack matters that seem to range from crop rotation to solar power to children’s swimming lessons.
I listen to him talking a group of teachers out of taking a s**t on their principal’s desk and wonder if all Alphas are this intimately involved with the goings- on of their pac
