CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The clatter of dishes and the low hum of conversations fill the pack house dining room as I settle into a seat across from Lucy. The scent of roasted meat and earthy spices hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the underlying musk that is uniquely our pack. My stomach rumbles, but it's not food that has my nerves on edge tonight.
I spear a piece of steak with my fork, tearing off a bite without really tasting it. Across from me, Lucy’s talking about something trivial, her words washing over me like the mindless chatter of a stream over rocks. But my thoughts are snagged on Logan, the Beta I've known all my life—Logan with his soft brown hair that falls in a careless way over his forehead, eyes that shine like wet earth after a storm.
"Lucy," I interrupt, my voice bare
