Alpha Do I Know You (Book 1 of the Rosewood Trilogy)

Chapter 2

I kept my head lowered, because it is the right thing to do for a human who is in the presence of a superior species. I rolled my eyes at that stupid rule that's only meant to fuel the egos of the narcissists in this pack.

Superior my ass. They wouldn't know a bigger, more hostile threat was in their land until it bites them in the ass.

"Evangeline," said Tate softly, testing my name on his tongue.

I stiffened, his voice breaking my train of thought quickly, making me realize that I broke away from the anger and annoyance I felt at Tate's threatening stance a few moments earlier when he realized I was his mate.

"Stupid, stupid!", I thought, mentally smacking myself for once again escaping from reality and groaning about the stupidity of this pack's rules and treatment to humans.

No matter how different my abilities may be from a normal werewolf, if I continuously don't pay attention to my surroundings, I'll end up in dangerous situations I may not be able to get out of. "God, focus more self!", I thought shaking my head furiously.

"You okay?" Tate asked, his head tilting a little to the side to look at my face.

Gone was the dangerous aura he emitted earlier, replaced only by the sheer concern in his eyes. If things weren't as they are—me pretending to be wholly human and his pack disallowing human-werewolf mating—I would have melted into a warm puddle right then and there. Admittedly, I am also confused as to why he's all concerned now when it seemed like he was ready to kill me earlier.

Probably a fluke caused by the shock of finding out that the great son of the Alpha is destined to be with a human, I thought as I raised my head to look at him.

"I'm good," I said softly, sounding like a squeaking mouse because it was the first time today that I spoke out loud. Tate stared at me then nodded as he stood from the stool and grabbed the knife from my hand.

"Uh what are you doing?" I asked as he started cutting up the rest of the potatoes.

Quentin and Mark paused in their conversation, eyes a little wide, most likely dumbfounded at what Tate is doing like I am. In my peripheral view I saw Lowell who sat near us, continue watching us while finishing off his sandwich.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Tate asked, grabbing a big empty pot from under the kitchen cabinets and filling it with water. He placed it on the stove, seasoning the water with salt before covering it up and looking at me. The corner of his lips rose as he said, "I know how to cook a simple potato salad."

I blinked. And blinked again, my mouth opening and closing a few times as no words to describe the scene in front of me came to the forefront of my mind. I have been living with these guys for years and I could count at one hand, nay less than five fingers, the times that Tate talked to me directly.

It was a year after I was abandoned at the door of the pack. The wolves were not comfortable allowing a human to stay but they had no say in the matter because the Alarick—the Head of the Wolf Clans—ordered my stay and adoption to the pack I was found in. I'm not sure why the Alarick did what he did, but that's what my foster parents (on the paper at least) Samuel and Raina Lewis said.

Knowing I was a wolf and being unable to reveal that fact to anyone, I tried to adjust the best I could, keeping to myself, and learning as much as I can from this new environment. But it didn't work much as bruises frequently decorated my entire body, or if I was lucky, only a few, because they needed a punching bag. And in their minds, what better punching bag than the human girl who wouldn't be able to fight back?

Every nerve in my body burned with the desire to maul them to pieces and enjoy every second of it. But with gritted teeth and the unknown voice at the back of my head resonating with reason to keep my wolf side in the dark for now held me back—even as I was gurgling blood from the punch fest that members of the pack took turns in. I should have shifted, I thought repeatedly regretting my decision to keep true to the promise I made with that unfamiliar voice, as I lay on the ground trying to suck in air through my damaged windpipes.