Page 61 of My Unhinged Alphas
Her eyes flash. “It won’t work.”
That gets my full attention. Not because I believe her. Because of the way she says it. Too fast. Too stubborn. Too much like she’s trying to convince herself first.
I take another step closer, not enough to crowd her, just enough to make the distance between us feel more deliberate. “Everybody scares,” I say quietly. “The question is when.”
Knox moves then. Not much, just enough to put himself back into the shape of the room instead of watching from the edge of it. “That’s enough,” he says.
I look at him over my shoulder.
And there it is again. That look.
Not just annoyance. Not just that I’m making this messier than it already is.
Protectiveness. Possessive, almost.
I shouldn’t enjoy it as much as I do.
But I really, really do.
The girl sees it too. I can tell from the way her gaze flicks to him, then back to me, her mind racing now, recalculating.
Good. Maybe she’s starting to understand that everyone in this room wants something different. And maybe, if she’s clever, she’ll figure out that Knox staying quiet tells her more than anything I’ve said.
I lean back a little and smile. “Relax. If I wanted answers right this second, you’d know.”
Knox’s expression turns murderous.
The girl goes very still.
I pick her up again because it’s easier than arguing.
This time, she doesn’t fight me. That gets my attention.
She just goes quiet in my arms, tense but still, and I can feel her thinking. That’s the thing about her. Even when she’s scared, even when she’s cornered, her mind keeps moving. Maybe she thinks if she cooperates, we’ll let her go. Maybe she thinks if she stops making trouble, we’ll ease up.
Maybe she’s smarter than that and just knows struggling with me gets her nowhere.
I carry her down the hall and into the room next door. The place is almost empty. Bare walls. Low light. One chair in the middle of the room like some sick little confession setup. No comfort in it.
I set her down. The second her feet touch the floor, she backs away from me.
Good instinct.
“This one was all Vale,” I tell her.
Her eyes flick around the room, then back to me. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” I say. “Just telling you who to blame for the decor.”
She doesn’t smile.
Knox comes in behind us and takes up his usual spot near the door, silent and watchful, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else than in a room with me and the girl at the same time.
That almost cheers me up.
Almost.
I look at her. “So let’s start.”
