Page 9 of The Demigod Complex
He’d already filled her in on the business deal, a large fleet of private aircraft and vehicles for the new combined wolf pack. “Marrok Banes has been a friend for many years.”
“He’s the groom?”
He nodded. “Yes, and the alpha for his pack.”
“You said Banes/Canis. Weren’t their families in a bit of a feud the last hundred years or so?”
He took his gaze off the road for a brief second to send her a surprised glance.
“What? Even nymphs without a spring to their name have a few friends left.”
Not many, her tone implied, but he should’ve figured she’d know something. Nymphs were bound to nature, as were wolf shifters, though in different ways.
“You’re correct about their families. The Titans and Gods have nothing on the Banes and Canises.” He exaggerated, but not by much. “However, Marrok has been determined to end the feud.”
“Let me guess, he’s marrying the Canis alpha’s daughter?”
“No. The alpha herself.”
“Oh!”
Female alphas were rare in the physically dominant wolf shifter world where alphas earned their right to lead, often in bloody ways.
“Does he love her?” was her next question.
“No idea. Knowing Marrok, love didn’t enter into the plan. But you could ask Delilah.”
She jerked her head to look at him. “She’s involved?”
“She introduced the idea to both of them, from what I understand.” Apparently, the enigmatic woman could add matchmaker to her list of services.
Leia glanced away, out the passenger-side window. “Interesting.”
He cocked his head at the disdain he detected in her. “Are you a closet romantic, Lyleia?”
No reaction. “You never call me Leia. Why is that?”
A non sequitur, like she often employed with him. She probably thought he used her full name for formality and distance, and that had been true at first. But gradually, that had become his name for her. His. And no one else’s. “It’s a beautiful name. Your true name,” he said. A name and a life she seemed to hide from. “Why won’t you look at me? Maybe you are a closet romantic.”
“I wasn’tnotlooking at you. I was looking at the scenery.” She waved a hand at the mountains. They’d left the interstate and were following Highway 36 along the St. Vrain river.
“Your side is solid rock,” he pointed out. “The scenery is out my side.”
From the corner of his eye, he caught her small movement as she raised her chin.
“I was keeping an eye out for bighorn sheep.”
“Sheep,” he repeated, not hiding his skepticism.
“Yes. According to my research, they’re more common down Big Thompson Canyon, north of here, but have been seen in this area as well. I’ve never seen one.”
He had to give it to his EA…she could bluff with the best of them, but he still wasn’t buying it. “Being a romantic isn’t a bad thing you know.”
“You’re an expert on romantics?”
He grunted at the disbelief in her voice. “I was one. A long time ago.”
She turned in her seat to face him more fully. “You?”
