CLAUDE
"Good. At least the stench of weakness is gone."
I swallowed hard, keeping my face blank. He patted my chest once—hard enough to feel like a blow—then turned toward the door.
"They're here."
I heard it before I saw it. The low purr of tires against gravel, the soft click of a car door opening. My pulse spiked, but I forced a slow breath as I followed him outside.
"Smile, Claude," my father whispered. "She's your mate. Try to be happy."
I curled my lips into something I hoped resembled a smile, even as my stomach twisted.
The Monroes approached, all polite smiles and stiff postures. Alpha Monroe was the first to step forward, shaking my father's hand in a firm grip.
"Alpha Adams," he greeted. "It's good to finally meet you." Then his sharp green eyes flicked
