Chapter 18

Ava POV

About a hundred thoughts went through my head, but I decided to ignore them and simply looked Chris in his gorgeous face and agreed. I could certainly go on a date with him so that we could talk more about Pack business before we sat down together to plan out what would happen next with Moonstone Pack.

It also wouldn't hurt to work out some of the unpleasantness of the evening. I was, I admit, still reeling from Ethan's drunken accusations, though I was pleased to realize I felt nothing but a small measure of satisfaction about his being dragged out of the room. If he ever tried to leverage his position in the Human World in Wolf Territory, I knew I could just mention that moment.

It occurred to me that someone must have recorded him on their phone, and I resolved to get a copy.

Chris smiled, obviously pleased, and we danced for a few songs with genuine ease in front of the band. It was lovely to have his arms around me in such a socially acceptable way. His body, I thought as I laid my head on his shoulder, was so comforting, so strong and solid.

I can't speak for all women, of course, but to me there is nothing better than to lean against the tall column of someone who cares about you, their arms around you and their steps matching yours like the two of you can do anything, as long as you do it together. The vision of Chris and me arose again, the two of us working together for the good of Moonstone Pack, and I had trouble getting the image out of my head.

After that, we did another tour of the room. It took a few discussions, but I realized eventually that the Humans in the room saw werewolves as preferring natural materials and were surprised to see a female wolf so decked out for the party.

I made sure after that to make it clear wolves enjoyed everything the world had to offer, within limits, and Chris seemed pleased.

I felt so light and free in my party get-up I could have stayed all night, but when Chris made noises about leaving I smiled readily and took his arm out to the limousine.

We chatted a little on the ride, mostly about his friend, Thomas, and about the state of affairs for omega slaves in Moonstone Pack. I could tell he was genuinely uncomfortable with their status, particularly when I reminded him that I could have ended up as a Omega slave myself or an outcast if Olivia had had her way.

I knew the kids of these omega Wolves could never jump out of the omega class.

"She's a female who also faces the obvious bias in the werewolf rules," he said at one point, as though it had just occurred to him. "You'd think she'd want to help omega slaves, not enslave them."

I confess I felt about a hundred years older than my "little brother" at that point.

"People who have little and who know they can't challenge those above them inevitably push down those below them to feel better," I explained. "If you only have two rocks, you'll degrade those with only one rock so you feel rich by comparison." I shrugged. "The only remedy is to give them a means to get more rocks."

He shook his head at me. "That's too simple."

I nodded. "Sure, in terms of real life. But I'm just talking about basic psychology. People want to feel just a little better than the people around them. Wolf or Human. If they can't, they can get very ugly."

To my deep gratification, he thought about what I said. I couldn't help but compare it to a hundred such conversations with Ethan, where he pretended to think about my ideas and then would change the subject.

I was greatly curious about Chris's apartment, even when he told me he had two others in different parts of the mainland and this wasn't what he truly considered his "home base."

I didn't have time to closely look at everything when I was here last time. When we walked inside, I was so enchanted to see the touches of personal life scattered among what I assumed were the furnishings of some interior designer.

I saw photos of his parents, of the Pack, of his house in which Olivia now presided, and the packhouse, which surprised me. There was a lovely photo of the sunset as seen through a moonstone, which I confess I gasped at. Then I turned warm when Chris shyly confessed he'd taken it himself.

Indeed, I saw his small signature in the corner of the framed piece.

But then I was even more drawn to a series of photos of Chris standing in front of several different cars from what were obviously NASCAR races.

I was only a casual fan of NASCAR, but I could recognize the quality of the cars behind him, which were mostly Ford Mustangs. I found myself smiling and thought about turning to Chris and drawling, "Honey, take me for a spin?"

Instead, I just complimented him on his NASCAR experience. He looked pleased and said he had been intending to make it a surprise, but he would go ahead and tell me our date tomorrow was going to include a race.

"Seriously?" I asked. "I've never been to one in person."

"You'll love it." Chris turned to me with our two bags of clothes and things in his hands.

I braced myself for some sort of explanation about why it was too difficult for us to go back to Wolf Territory, about how it was too late and we needed to sleep in his bed.

Instead, he just smiled and continued, "Even with the 'copter, it will still be about an hour before you're back home. Would you like to freshen up first?"

I smiled at him and went to his bathroom before we went back to the limo, then the helipad, and then the helicopter. I saw we had a new pilot but also that he was just as attentive and deferential as the other had been.

The second I stepped out of the helicopter onto Wolf Territory, I felt my body rejoice, like a puppy who was welcoming home a parent. I sighed with pleasure as Chris and I walked down the path to my cottage, and I was happy to take his arm as my feet, encased as they were in the best shoes I knew money could buy, were still a little wobbly on the flagstones.

Once inside, Chris let me have me have my turn in the bathroom first, where I quickly removed my makeup, marveling at how fresh my skin still felt, and take down my hair. I went to my bedroom next and changed into my night ware. I carefully hung up the lovely dress, set my shoes up on my closet floor so I could see them, emptied my clutch before hanging it on a peg, and then, with a deep sigh of relief, I headed to the bed.

But then I heard Chris in the front room fixing up his blankets to sleep on the sofa, and I felt guilty. Did I trust this man or not, I asked myself?

"It's not right for you to rough it in the couch after the night you've shown me," I said as I walked into the room.

"If anything," he said, "I owe you for being so lovely tonight. You boosted my business cred a hundred times."

"Look, I'm saying I'd like you to sleep in my bed tonight," I said. I quickly added, "I mean, just sleep."

He smiled in a way that made me feel like I was back in my teens, then nodded and followed me into my bedroom. He let me slide between the sheets first, then lay down beside me.

After a beat, I felt his warm, heavy arm tentatively curl over the space between my ribs and hip, as though the limb itself were asking if I were OK with it.

I just smiled in the dark, closed my eyes, and slept.