AZALEA'S POV
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Every bite sends a shiver wracking through my body. Who would want me dead? Is it perhaps the same person who killed my father? Does someone else want the pack? "You're pushing around your food." Corbin states the obvious. I've lost my appetite as my mind tries to wrap around who would want to do this. "I'm not hungry," I murmur, setting down my fork. It clinks against the ceramic plate. I push the plate back toward the center. “Do you want to leave?” Corbin sets his knife and fork down, pushing his plate away. He picks up the napkin, dapping his mouth before tossing the material down next to the plate.
I do want to leave, but he has a half eaten steak left on his plate. “No.” I reach for my glass of wine, but Corbin’s quick to snatch it, pulling it away as he stands. “L
