I took the hot plate down the hall and counted three doors, standing in front of the third, a set of double doors I hadn't seen since yesterday, which felt like a millennia ago. My hand raised to knock, but it was suddenly thrown open. Vance sauntered out of the office, sparing me a quick glance, his lips rising in a smirk. "Looks like you got a visitor, Alpha," he called over his shoulder, stepping around me and fading away in my peripheral.

"Enter," Alpha Alexander called from his desk. I took a deep, hopefully full of bravery breath and stepped into the office. When I entered, he didn't bother to look up from the paper he was writing on.

I approached the desk hesitantly.

"What can I do for you?" he asked smoothly.

Without saying anything, I set the plate down—directly on top of the paper he was writing on. His gaze flew up, meeting my eyes. Surprise fell over his expression as he glanced from my face to the plate and back. "I thought you might be hungry," I said softly.

He blinked. "Thank you."

I didn't say anything. I straightened my upper body and spun on my heel, intent on hurrying out the door to find my bedroom and bury my head under the covers. Maybe I shouldn't have brought him dinner. Maybe he likes to eat later. Maybe I'm stupid. Maybe he thinks I'm foolish.

Maybe, maybe, maybe . . .

I almost reached the door when he said, "No. Stay."

I paused mid-step, glancing over my shoulder. His gaze was fixed on the plate, pulling it closer to him and picking up the fork. I tried to tell him that I had homework to do, or that I had to help clean the kitchen, but every excuse died on my lips.

"Um, sure." I returned to the desk silently, reaching for the chair across from him.

"No," he said again. "Here." He pointed beside him, where no chair sat. He expected me to move the chair to sit beside him? Not gonna happen—where this chair is now, I have a nice large desk that separates us.

"I'm good right here."

His eyes flickered to mine. "Are you going to disobey everything I request of you?"

I dropped myself into the chair. "Probably."

He stabbed a piece of chicken, lifting it to his mouth, chewing slowly. His jaw became more pronounced as it worked; I found myself staring at him as he ate. I quickly looked away when he glanced at me. My eyes landed on a bookshelf in the corner. I stood and walker over to it, examining the titles on the book spines. They were all classics; Homer, Dante, Payne, Sir Walter Scott. Several were modern books, textbooks on certain subjects—accounting and other boring titles. But one stood out above all others. I pulled it out and laughed harder than I had in days. I spun around, holding the book up to show Alpha Alexander. He glanced at the cover and then returned to his plate, forking up some green beans.

"You know I have to ask," I chuckled.

"A joke, from my mother."

"Your mother?" I asked, approaching the desk.

"Open it." His eyes locked onto mine.

Hesitantly, I flipped open the cover, reading a handwritten message on the first page:

Find the truth in this and laugh to your heart's desire.

I love you, Gabriel.

-Your mother

I reread the inscription. His first name is Gabriel?

"What truth does she mean?"

Alpha Alexander swallowed a piece of chicken. "What many modern authors wrote about werewolf lore is true, either because they know a werewolf or because they heard about it from someone else who knew a werewolf. The popular culture and wide acceptance of supernatural novels made it possible for my species to reveal themselves to the human world. Contrary to popular theories, however, silver cannot harm us anymore than it can a human, and we are not bound solely to the moon. We can shift whenever we please, but the moon does call to us when full."

"So Twilight helped you guys come out of the closet?" I raised a brow.

His lips twitched. "No. What my mother was referring to specifically was the truth about mates. The concept that author dreamed up for her characters is similar to actual mating practices."

"Oh." I glanced at the book in my hand. "Maybe I should reread the series, then."

Oh my god. He chuckled—actually chuckled. "Maybe, Phoebe."

I flushed and grasped for a change in subject. "Where is your mother?"

His face hardened. "She's dead."

I gaped at him. "I'm . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

He stood abruptly, taking the book from my hands. "You didn't know." He passed the book from one hand to the next, examining it thoughtfully. "She was obsessed with this series. I haven't the faintest idea why, but she adored them. She even got some of the women in the pack hooked on it. They had ridiculous themed parties before every movie."

I realized that this was a window into the secret life of Alpha Alexander. He was opening up to me, talking about something so precious and private as the personality of his late mother. I listened to him, encouraging him by asking whether she thought the movies were up to par.

"She loved them. Even though the budget was low and the acting was poor, she raved about them. It's a pity she never got to see the last one."

"When did she die?"

"A few summers ago."

I could see the window closing; he was retreating into his cold shell. I grasped at something to say. "I think I would like your mother. She sounds optimistic and genuine."

"She was," he said softly. He turned to the book case, shelving the novel next to the others. His eyes fell on me, our bodies mere inches apart. "She would have loved you."

The compliment stung a little. I was sure his mother expected a little more from an Alpha's mate—probably expected one with more dignity than throwing temper tantrums and running away when shit gets tough. I hold my tongue, though a sarcastic remark begged to tumble out of my mouth. Instead, I said, "What about your father?"

He looked away. "He's out of the picture."

I frowned. My curiosity peaked, but I could see by the look on Alpha Alexander's face that the topic wasn't open for discussion. That was just dirt I'd have to dig for from another source. "Okay." I glanced at the plate on the desk. "Are you finished?"

He nodded tightly. "Thank you, Phoebe."

"My pleasure," I mumbled, taking the plate off the desk and moving toward the door.

"Phoebe," he called after me.

I looked over my shoulder at him.

"I expect to find you in the bed tonight."

At first, my dirty thoughts traveled to the mating process, but then I remembered that he had put me into bed the night before without my permission. Then I also remembered his strict command to have a male wolf drive me everywhere. Then I remembered how mad I was at him. I turned my body to face him, my shoulders straightening as a surge of defiance crawled through me. "Speaking of which, I have a bone to pick with you."

He frowned. "If that's supposed to be a derogatory phrase to my species—"

"Jesus, no!" I groaned. "What I meant was I have to talk to you about my sleeping situation."

"I hadn't realized there was a situation."

"Well, there is." I placed the plate on a side table and put both hands on my hips, hoping I looked incredibly pissed off instead of morbidly pathetic. "I'd really like my own room."

"No," he said flatly.

"Yes," I said strongly. "You agreed to my terms, Alpha Alexander, allowing me to see how this mating process proceeds. Or have you forgotten? It was only last night that you promised, if I recall."

"I haven't forgotten, Phoebe." His glare is furious. "As I've said, I will not touch you. However, I will not have you sleeping on the floor like some common dog."

"Then give me my own room."

"No. End of discussion."

"Ha!" I barked. "Hardly."

His eyes narrowed. He leaned forward on the desk, digging his fingertips into the wood. "Don't test me, Phoebe."

"Stop being a total asshat and I won't."

His tone is condescending. "Please, enlighten me. What have I done wrong now?"

"The list is long, Alpha Alexander. For starters, why do I need someone to drive me around when I am perfectly capable of doing it myself?"

"It's for your protection."

"I've been driving for nearly two years on my own and I haven't been killed yet."

"Keyword, Phoebe: yet. It's dangerous on the road, especially with young drivers addicted to their mobile phones."

"God, you sound like a grandpa," I muttered. Then my eyes widened. "How old are you?"

His hard expression didn't waver. "Old enough."

"Old enough for what? To live through the Depression? I mean, I know wolves live for a pretty long time, I just want to know what I'm dealing with here." I pointed a mocking finger at him. "You didn't fight with the Confederates, did you?"

"We are not discussing my age at this moment in time, Phoebe."

"I hear old guys are really touchy about the subject." I shrugged. "Just saying. Wait, did you stab Caesar?"

"Enough," he said flatly. "You are to be escorted to school and back home, that's final."

"Fine," I said flatly after a moment of contemplating.

He eyed me wearily. "Don't, Phoebe."

"Don't, what?" I asked innocently.

"Don't do what I know you're thinking about doing."

I smiled sweetly at him and shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I turned to grab the plate and walk out of the door, but before my fingers brushed the cool porcelain, a hand latched onto my wrist, spun me around and pushed me back until I hit the wall. His eyes burned into mine, searching for answers that I wasn't about to give up.

"Phoebe," he growled.

My bones shook. "Alpha Alexander."

"Don't."

"Call off the security and I won't."

"No."

"Okay."

He growled again, an unintelligible animal sound that made my whole body shiver with anticipation. His fingers caressed my cheeks, cupping my face with his large hands. "I can't lose you," he breathed so softly I almost didn't hear it.

My breathing hitched. I forced out, "I'm a good driver, I swear."

His thumb skimmed my bottom lip, his eyes drawing downward when I gasped at the tender touch. "You will ride with Jason to school and back. I will not have you behind the wheel."

"We'll see about that, Alpha Alexander," I challenged.