Page 23 of Wolf’s Fated Bride

Ash chuckles, but this time, the sound of it sets off my alarms. “Are you telling me what to do?”

Blade intercedes. “They’re right, Ash. You can’t miss doses. None of us can.”

Ash tosses the napkin onto the table. “I’ll purge.”

“Purge?” my mother shrieks.

“I’ll do it in a place where it’s safe,” Ash says.

“You’ll take me with you,” Sören says.

“Are you my secretary?”

A smile tugs at my lips, and I look down at my plate to hide it.

“I’m curious,” Maren says, “about your specific request for a family man. Why does it have to be a man who has a family?”

“He’d have a lot to lose if he tried to poison me,” Ash says.

Maren and I make eyes across the table, and I shake my head, telling her without words that she ought to stop probing Ash about this.

“But if you’re poisoned, the Regulator wins, not loses,” Maren says.

“I’m very hard to kill.”

I don’t like where this conversation is going. Maren places a hand on Ash’s biceps, squeezing the solid muscle. I can’t see his face, but I wish I could. What the hell is my sister doing, touching her fiancé in front of her lover?

Next to me, Sven grips a knife. Oh no. This is bad. This is very bad.

“Hey, can you pass me more meat?” I ask Sven.

Sven blinks. “Of course.” He reaches for the serving fork, and I shake my head at Maren. It’s obvious I’m trying to halt her conversation, but she ignores me.

Maren continues, “I only ask because we have a perfectly capable Regulator who’s proven his loyalty to my brother and sworn an oath already. It seems only fair that Sören offers his Regulator to you since yours died in our territory. Don’t you think, brother?”

Holy crap.

HOLY CRAPOLA.

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Ash asks.

I want to throw up. I swallow hard and try to meet Maren’s eyes, but she avoids eye contact.

“A gesture of goodwill and a much faster replacement than finding another Regulator who may or may not meet your needs just before our wedding. If Sören agrees, Sven could arrange for his transfer tomorrow.”

Under the table, I kick Maren.

Ash jumps in his seat. The urn wobbles, threatening to fall, but Ash’s quick reflexes snatch it before it crashes. He tucks the urn under his arm and then widens his eyes at me.

I meant to kick Maren. Fuck. Why is his foot all the way over here? Why is he six seven with long legs that stretch under the table? Gah, I hate that he’s everywhere.

“What an excellent idea, Maren,” my father says, looking like he’s shocked.

You know what I hate more than alpha assholes? A condescending alpha asshole. My dad shouldn’t be shocked that Maren came up with this. She’s calculating and smart. She has very little freedom or power over decisions, so she’s found other ways to manipulate alphas into creating freedom and relinquishing power.

Sometimes I wish I were like her. Sneaky about what I want. Instead, I just open my mouth and state my piece. Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it? No, it’s not. Take it from me, and bury your truth.

“Sven, do you have something to say?” Sören asks.