Alex walked out of the room with her back to the landing. As she closed the door, she paused and turned her head to the right. A stern-looking woman in a dark blue pinstripe suit was watching her. This must be the delightful mother, Alex thought as she saw her, mentally sending all her sympathy to Michael. Then she plastered a smile on her face and said, "Hello." She started walking toward the stairs.
"You must be the woman who helped Michael."
Alex turned again, her gaze meeting the cold stare studying her. "I guess so," she replied.
"I am grateful for what you did, but don't assume that gives you any right over this family."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't accept anything from you." And with that, she turned and walked down the stairs.
Eleanor's eyes widened as the girl turned her back and walked away, then narrowed into thin slits. She was just about to call her back when Christopher's voice made her turn. "Mother!"
Her fury turned on her son. "What is that human still doing here?" she spat, putting all the contempt she could into that word.
"Dr. Fredrik says she's not fit to travel yet," Chris replied, gently taking his mother's arm and trying to lead her toward the stairs.
But she resisted. "How could you bring her into our home?"
Christopher sighed, trying to stay calm. "We've explained what happened. It was the least we could do after what she did for Michael."
"She is a human!" she repeated, as though that alone justified her outrage.
He clenched his jaw. "This is not the time for this kind of talk. You know how I feel about it. We don't need to start another argument. We have more important things to worry about."
"More important than a human who has infiltrated our home—our family?" Eleanor glared at her son.
"She hasn't infiltrated anything. She knows nothing about us."
"And you think your brother won't tell her sooner or later? What if she already knows? What if she's a slayer?"
"Then she would've wiped us out by now. She's not a slayer. She's a woman who saved your son's life." Christopher's voice was hard. He had dropped diplomacy entirely—there was no room left for discussion.
But Eleanor didn't give up. "Your brother already made a mistake once. He trusted a human—and he turned out to be a hunter!"
Christopher clenched his fists and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, his voice was like steel. "I don't want to hear about that again. Especially not now, when we're at risk of losing our territory. And you're worried about a human woman staying in this house!"
"Watch your tone, son. I'm still the Alpha."
---
When Alex joined him on the porch, Michael immediately noticed the dark cloud shadowing her face—not to mention the sharp scent of anger, which he could still catch even in his human form.
He watched her approach with brisk steps, stopping at his side with a forced smile on her lips.
"So, where are you taking me today?"
"I thought I'd introduce you to Devon…"
"Great. Let's go."
After a few silent steps, Michael ventured, "What happened?"
Alex raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. "I had the pleasure of meeting your mother."
"I'm sorry for whatever she might've said or done," Michael replied, pausing.
Alex stopped as well and looked at him. "Actually, she didn't really say or do anything specific. If anything, I should be the one apologizing," she added, thinking it better not to tell him about the air of superiority and contempt she'd picked up. Then again, she thought, too much money often convinced certain people they were better than everyone else.
"Don't worry. She gives that impression to almost everyone—like sandpaper across a chalkboard."
Alex laughed, and the tension seemed to melt away. She looked at Michael, her mood lifted.
"So, who's Devon?"
The brown muzzle with a white stripe peeked out from the stall the moment their footsteps echoed inside the stable, stretching toward Michael's outstretched hand.
"This is Devon," he said, introducing the horse.
Devon let out a soft whinny and eyed the newcomer warily.
Alex looked admiringly at the English thoroughbred. He was a magnificent animal. Not that she knew anything about horses, but the glossy coat, strong muscles, and intelligent eyes were impossible to miss. The horse nudged its muzzle toward her.
"I think he wants something," Michael said.
"Like what?" asked Alex, tearing her gaze away from the horse.
Michael took her hand, opened her palm, and placed a small piece of carrot in it.
"This is a good way to start a friendship."
She slowly stretched out her hand toward Devon's muzzle and felt the gentle pressure of his lips on her skin. When he pulled back, chewing the carrot, he gave her a satisfied look.
"He's so soft!" she said, lowering her hand.
"Yeah, and very polite too."
Devon leaned toward her again and lowered his head, letting her rest her hand against him. Michael watched as she stroked his muzzle and then down his neck, her eyes full of wonder.
"As soon as you're better, we'll go for a ride."
"I don't know how to ride."
"I'll teach you."
---
They had just returned when Christopher appeared in the doorway of the lounge.
"I want to introduce someone to you."
A slender woman with long blonde hair and grey eyes rose from the sofa and set her glass on the side table. Smiling, she extended her hand toward Michael, who stepped forward to greet her.
"This is Sabrina," said Chris, his entire face lighting up with a smile.
Michael shook her manicured, soft hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure's mine. I've been wanting to meet you for quite some time. Christopher's told me a lot about you."
"I hope only the good stuff."
"He didn't mention a single flaw—in his eyes, you're the perfect brother."
"Don't flatter him too much," Michael replied, glancing at his brother. "He might start believing it."
Christopher laughed, placing a hand gently at the small of her back. "And this is Alex," he added. "She's our guest."
"Very pleased to meet you."
Alex returned the handshake with a polite smile plastered on her face. Mentally, she was already scanning for the quickest escape.
"Please, have a seat," Christopher said, motioning toward the sofa.
"I'm sorry, but I'm tired. I think I'll go lie down," Alex replied before anyone could take a seat.
Michael turned, facing away from the couple. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, offering a reassuring smile. "I'll see you at dinner."
Before anyone could say another word, she turned on her heel and headed upstairs.
Once she closed the door behind her, she exhaled a long, heavy breath. Meeting one member of the family was already more than enough for the day.
She wondered what the hell she was still doing there. This wasn't her family. This wasn't her home.
She walked to the window and pulled back the curtain.
She had never truly had a family—and now she had lost even her last home.
Suddenly, she felt tired. The thought of starting over in yet another city, among strangers, no longer felt exciting. She had done it many times before, but this time, it weighed heavier on her shoulders.
For once, she found herself wondering what would happen if she stayed in one place. If she built connections that weren't just surface-level.
What would happen if she let someone get close?
If she let Michael get close?
She saw his smile, his gentleness, the way he looked at her… A strange sensation squeezed her heart—sweet and painful at the same time.
What would it feel like, to finally trust someone?
Then Eleanor's scornful face swept the rest away.
That woman would never allow her son to be with someone like Alex.
A bitter smile crept across her lips.
No decent man would ever want a woman with no family, who had lived on the streets and earned a living through underground fights.
It would be better to leave soon and return to more familiar territory.
She twisted slightly to test whether her side still hurt. The pain was mild, almost gone.
Maybe the time had come.
---
Michael watched Alex leave the room, then turned his attention back to the couple in front of him. Well, there was no denying it—Andy had been absolutely right: Sabrina was a stunning woman.
Meanwhile, Christopher had poured some Macallan into a glass and handed it to Michael. "I was just updating Sabrina on what's happened," he said, gesturing to the sofa.
Michael sat down and listened as his brother recounted everything that had occurred over the past few days.
"So you sent Natalie into the middle of a pack of strays?" Sabrina asked, making no attempt to hide her disapproval.
"That wasn't my intention. You know how Natalie is—she does things her own way."
"You take quite a few liberties yourself."
Eleanor's voice made everyone turn, casting a heavy silence over the room. The pack leader entered. Aware of the eyes following her, she poured herself a glass of whisky and took a seat in an armchair by the window.
It was Sabrina who broke the silence. "He learned from one great werewolf, and another is still teaching him."
Eleanor was silent for a moment. Then a cold smile barely curved her lips. "I've always appreciated your diplomacy. You'll make a fine mate for Christopher when he becomes pack leader."
Who knows when that will be, Michael thought, though he was glad that—for once—his mother seemed to approve of his brother's partner.
"I've already prepared the recruitment letters for the noble families. I've also advised them to raise their security levels. Alfred will leave this evening to deliver them."
"You really won't switch to email?"
Eleanor looked at her eldest son with something close to disdain. "Some matters deserve to retain their official status."
"As you wish. If you'd like, I can help you write the next batch tomorrow."
"Your help is always appreciated."
Not always, Christopher thought, but he nodded anyway.