The Pack Thief

3

Willow's POV

"Did you know that books date back thousands of years, even more so than we ever thought?" Cyrus questioned, not even bothering to spare me a glance as he plucked a book from the wall of his massive library.

"Some historians argue that the earliest 'book' was actually a scroll from the 4th millennium BCE. The things I'd do to be able to read it..." His voice trailed off.

I didn't realize I signed up for a history lesson. I thought to myself, or so I thought I did.

Cyrus did spare me a glance this time. His eyes were unamused, like usual.

"You're not very good at controlling the mate link," My cheeks flushed, "And believe it or not, some of us actually enjoy history."

He quirked his eyebrow for a moment, letting the embarrassment sink in. He seemed satisfied to see the sheepish smile presented itself on my face, while he continued to move about. I had no other choice but to follow him around and listen to him drone on about this and that and everything boring.

I prayed for someone to end my suffering.

My leg still ached, even though it had already been two days since my injury. My werewolf healing was normally quick; however, my injury was extreme. But at least I could put pressure on it without causing myself discomfort.

I found myself staring up at the ceiling, only now noticing all of the murals and paintings etched across it. Splashes of faded greens and soft neutrals came together to create an alluring display. Two lovers seemed to dance with their bodies intertwined, under the canopy of a large oak tree. What looked to be a thousand tiny stars, coated the branches and leaves of the tree.

The mesmerizing scene left my mouth free of words.

One could get lost in the detail, a common theme presented in the luxurious mansion Cyrus called his.

Everything was so extravagant, so artistic.

It was easy to be consumed by it all.

A voice suddenly entered my distracted head space, bringing me back to reality.

"Do you like to read?" He questioned.

This was the first thing he had actually asked me about myself.

I nodded in response, swallowing hard as I did. His face was so sharp and his gaze was so heavy. I felt as if any and everything I could possibly say would fall scrutiny to him. Maybe that was the reason my voice had suddenly become lost upon me.

"What do you like about reading?"

The desire for peace and quiet was strong, especially whenever he would speak to me. I wanted him to leave me alone so that I could plan my grand scheme. The question arose within my mind as to whether or not he knew that something was up? I wondered if that was why the unfriendly alpha was being so friendly.

Had I slipped up and just failed to notice it? Surely if that had been the case, he would've made it clear...

His gaze was impatient upon me, bringing forth the realization that I hadn't actually answered his question. I spoke up.

"For starters, books are a lot quieter than people."

I silently scolded myself the instant that those words left my lips. What a blathering idiot I was. Here I was trying to make this man fall in love with me so that I could be his demise, and everything I was saying was so damn sarcastic. Surely, everything I had done thus far had put me farther from my goal.

My answer was sure to sour him further.

Yet somehow this managed to turn the corners of his lips up. Just ever so slightly.