“He’s here.” Beta Charles lifted the flap of the tent, his tone grim.
I was sorting herbs when my silver tongs clattered onto the stone tray.
Zaia shrieked in my head, “Speak of the devil!”
Alpha Lycan set down his wolf-hair brush, his eyes instantly flashing green. “Tell him to get lost.”
“He won’t leave,” Beta Charles said, frowning. “He’s crying outside the territory. A bunch of pups are watching.”
“Crying?” I was stunned. “Alpha Asher?”
The Alpha who was too proud to ever lower his head—crying?
Zaia snorted. “It’s an act! Definitely an act!”
“I’ll go see him.” I stood up.
Alpha Lycan grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go.”
“If I’m cutting it off, I’m cutting it clean.” I pried his fingers open. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
He stared at me for three seconds before letting go.
