Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground

light on the small of her back. She couldn’t see his face because he was just behind her, but she saw the impact of his gaze as the roomful of Alphas made it clear that they believed he was the biggest, baddest wolf in the place.
    Most of them seemed content with that. Wolves don’t fuss about things they can’t change—the only exception, she thought, might be the British Alpha. Something was making him unhappy, certainly. But he kept his eyes down while Charles was looking at him anyway.
    â€œGentlemen, my mate and my wife, Anna Latham Cornick, Omega of the Aspen Creek Pack.” Charles raised his hand to her shoulder.
    â€œYour pardon, monsieur ,” one of the Frenchmen said. He had one of those double accents, French with British overtones. “Perhaps we could introduce ourselves and then take our leave. We have taken time to eat, and we cannot linger much longer. Chastel isn’t our Marrok, not as Bran is to those wolves here, but he can make our lives exceedingly uncomfortable.”
    â€œOf course.”
    The Frenchman proceeded to introduce his countrymen in hurried tones—and as he introduced them, they bowed their heads. “And I am Michel Girard.”
    â€œI look forward to more leisurely conversations later,” said Anna.
    â€œI also.” He smiled with weary eyes. “Until tomorrow . ” And they left.
    â€œAnna, this is Arthur Madden, Master of the Isles—the British equivalent of the Marrok.”
    â€œGood to meet you, sir,” she said. Not an Alpha then, she thought, or not just an Alpha.
    â€œDelighted,” Arthur said, as he rose from his place and came forward to kiss her hand. “I am sorry to confess, though Chastel is not waiting to chastise me, we’ve been here much longer than I intended. My wife awaits me, and I must attend. I would, however, like to issue an invitation before we leave. I’ve a condo in the University District, and it would be my pleasure to have you two for dinner tomorrow.”
    Anna looked at Charles. Madden had so clearly excluded the Spaniards that it felt awkward. She didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make it worse.
    â€œThank you,” said Charles. “We’ll discuss it, and I’ll let you know.”
    Arthur smiled, and she noticed that he was handsome. She hadn’t been paying attention until then.
    â€œGood enough.” Arthur looked to the Spaniards. “My control is just not good enough, gentlemen, to have more than one dominant in my territory at a time. I am sorry.”
    â€œDe nada,” the dark-skinned man who was the de facto leader said graciously. “We understand, of course.”
    Arthur excused himself. The whole room fell silent, listening, she thought. When the restaurant door in the other room opened and closed, it felt like the whole world relaxed.
    Sergio, the wolf who had faced off with Chastel, tossed a bone on his plate. “Pompous ass,” he said.
    â€œSmart, pompous ass,” said Charles.
    â€œDeluded, smart, pompous ass,” said the dark-skinned man. “Have you decided how you’re going to introduce us yet? How about by age?” He looked at Anna. “Charles knows all of us—and probably the Frenchmen, too. Knows everything, your mate.”
    It was a challenge, less serious, though no less important, Anna understood, than the near fight between Charles and Chastel. Are we important to you? was what the Spaniard meant.
    â€œIf I manage it, you’ll pick up the tip.” Charles was as relaxed as she’d ever seen him.
    â€œFine.”
    â€œSergio del Fino,” said Charles. The man he addressed stood, put a hand over his heart, and bowed.
    He went through the others without a misstep until he got to the last two: the dark-skinned man and a redhead. He paused and then indicated the darker man with a tilt of his head. “Hussan Ibn Hussan.” Then the other man. “Pedro Herrera.”
    Hussan smiled. “Wrong. I am older than Pedro.”
    Pedro smiled wider. “ Hijo , I saw you born. I didn’t know Charles knew that.”
    Charles lowered his head without lowering his eyes. “Asil let it slip.”
    Hussan slapped his leg. “I think I’ve been set up. Tell me my father didn’t tell you to pull this one on me.”
    Charles just smiled.
    â€œYou’re Asil’s son?” Anna asked. Now that she paid attention, his skin tone