Alpha Omega 02 - Hunting Ground

smile widened into a grin. “With the pointing-finger thing? When he was already thirsting after fresh blood because you were endangered and he’d gone hunting with no results? Do I look that stupid? No, that was just an accident.”
    Anna looked down at the arm of the chair and rubbed a spot lightly with a fingertip. Now that she thought to test it, she could smell Angus’s sincerity. He had been worried for Charles, worried she would hurt him.
    â€œI knew people were afraid of him,” she said. “You really think they believe there’s something wrong with Charles?”
    Angus tilted his head, but it was Alan who answered. “Something off, anyway. Not so much crazy as . . . different. His father’s soulless killer, loyal to the Marrok and no one else. Every word that comes out of his mouth put there by the Marrok, like a ventriloquist’s dummy only scarier.”
    Anna thought about the fight Charles and his father had waged, which ultimately Charles had won, and opened her mouth to comment. But then she shut it again. If that was what people thought, it was because Charles wanted them to.
    â€œCharles does it deliberately,” Angus told her, watching her closely. She hoped that she gave nothing away, but his words were so close to her thoughts that she must have. He tapped the arm of his chair with impatient fingers. “If the other wolves are all scared of him, they won’t be stupid and make him kill them. And they’re right, whether they know it or not. There is something off, haven’t you noticed? His wolf is completely out of control. It should have turned him into a mindless killer—but it hasn’t.”
    Brother Wolf, thought Anna.
    â€œWhy do you suppose that is?” asked Choo.
    Angus raised an eyebrow and looked at her, as if he thought she might supply an explanation.
    There was a wolf responsible for the attack on them tonight. She didn’t really believe Angus was the enemy either. He might even be Charles’s friend if she could believe her nose. But she wasn’t going to be sharing any insights about her mate—even if she had them—with Angus of the Emerald City Pack.
    She gave him a look and relaxed on her seat on the arm of Charles’s chair and waited for him to return.
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    ANGER.
    He was so angry.
    Charles had been all right all the way down to the main desk. He’d focused on the task at hand, gotten a second room, and been fine until he got back into the elevator and considered the attack on Anna. He’d thought he might be able to take what he’d learned from Anna’s story and find something new, some hint at why or who.
    The control that had always been at his fingertips seemed to be melting away. He watched the floor numbers rise, and they seemed to proceed at a viciously fast pace when he had so much thinking to do.
    Two.
    Tom had nearly been killed. If Charles had sent Anna with any of Angus’s other wolves—and he might have—he’d have lost her.
    Three.
    Six vampires.
    Four.
    If Tom’s witch had been what she appeared, Anna would have been taken.
    Five.
    If he locked her to his side, he would lose her. She was not submissive, she didn’t need his care. Not that way. She needed him to stand back and let her fly.
    Six.
    And if he was going to do that, he was going to have to get control of his temper. Of Brother Wolf’s temper. Not just now, today—but forever. Leash his need to keep her safe so that he could keep her happy.
    Seven.
    Today, though, she wasn’t leaving his sight again.
    The elevator door slid open.
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    ARTHUR Madden fussed with this and that, moving the place settings farther from the edge of the table, then nudging them nearer.
    â€œMy dear,” said his mate with amusement, “what are you doing? He may be the Marrok’s son, but you rule the British Isles. You outrank him—there is no need to be nervous.”
    She didn’t understand. But he was used to that. His wife was human, and there was a lot she didn’t understand. He didn’t hold it against her. He wouldn’t explain that Charles was dominant, that even with the strength of all his wolves behind him, Charles still made Arthur back down with no more than a look. It meant he needed all of his defenses. It meant the dinner must be perfect.
    He could trust his mate to make everything perfect.
    â€œYou are right, of course,”