Samara
I sip my coffee as we drive. Like yesterday, I look out the window watching the landscape change from the warmer southern climate to the cooler northern climate. The longer we drive, the fewer leaves are in the trees and in some areas, there are bits of snow that haven’t melted from the last snowfall.
The sight makes me unbearably sad, and I have to fight against the tears that threaten to fall. Memories come flooding back to me of happier times, of my family, my pack. When a tear escapes, I quickly swipe it away.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Roman asks softly.
“No,” I say. My voice isn’t nearly as strong as I had hoped it would be.
“Alpha, did you want to stop for lunch somewhere?” Eric asks from the front seat.
Roman doesn’t answer and when I turn to look at him, I see him studying me. “You didn’t eat breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“Sure,” I say, turning back to look out the window. I can’t stand the gentleness in his eyes, the concern. If he was so concerned, he shouldn’t have betrayed my family.
Ayla whines in my head, sad at the loss of our family and our mate’s part in that betrayal.
“Does any of this look familiar to you?” he asks. I clench my eyes closed. I much preferred it when he was arguing with me or being arrogant. This gentleness has me close to bursting into tears.
“No. It all looks horribly unfamiliar,” I lie.
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me.
“You can stop staring at me. I’m not going to fall apart.”
“No, you probably won’t. Not right now, anyway,” he says, but I feel the heat of his gaze leave my back as he shifts in his seat.
I hear him pull out his phone and dial a number.
“Yes, I’d like to make a reservation for lunch. There are twenty-one of us,” he says.
I hear the person on the other end of the phone say they don’t have space for that many people.
“This is Alpha Roman. Make space,” he demands. I turn and narrow my eyes at him. The audacity of the man.
He looks at me as the person on the other end sputters that they will have a place for all twenty-one of us when we arrive.
“Make space for nineteen, and a private room for two,” he says, making me growl. I don’t have to ask who the private room is for.
“We’ll be there in about thirty minutes,” he says before hanging up.
He levels his gaze at me. “Problem?”
“How very arrogant of you,” I growl.
“Is it arrogance if I own the restaurant?”
I suck in air before I can stop myself. I know exactly which restaurant we’re going to. His family has owned it for years. It’s a very popular steakhouse that my family used to go to frequently.
His eyes narrow as he watches my reaction, but I turn my head quickly so he can’t see the pain in my eyes. Flashes of memories of my family laughing around a table, Teddy teasing me while Althea looked at the other Alphas in the room. We frequently had dinner with Roman’s family and Sawyer’s.
“It’s a steakhouse. Hopefully you’ll like it,” he says.
“How very daring of you,” I say, not looking at him.
“Owning a steakhouse?” he asks.
I turn and give him my best feral smile. “Voluntarily giving me a steak knife when it’s just the two of us in a private room together.”
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