Chapter 27

Kayla

Nicholas’s pace was relentless as he led me down the gravel path that twisted through the estate gardens and toward the edge of the woods. The early morning sun filtered through the trees, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow across the ground, but I was far too irritated to care about the scenery.

I had to jog a little just to keep up with his long strides, and it became clear to me immediately that this was nothing more than an act—just like everything else.

“Do you always drag women around like they’re your personal luggage?” I muttered, yanking my arm free and crossing it tightly over my chest once we were out of sight.

He didn’t even break stride, his long legs carrying him forward without so much as a glance back. “You walk too slow,” he called over his shoulder. “Keep up.”

My teeth clenched. Oh, if it weren’t for my pack hanging in the balance, I would have turned around and marched straight back to the house. Hell, I would even lock myself in my room and refuse to come out for a week.

Anything to avoid being within ten feet of this ambiguous brute of a man.

But instead, I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and trudged after him, glaring at the back of his head. His dark hair was perfectly tousled in that effortlessly smug way that made me want to throw something at him, and he moved with the same air of authority he always carried—like the world revolved around him and he was just gracious enough to let the rest of us exist in it.

The gravel path gave way to dirt as we entered the forest. The air was cooler here, the scent of pine and earth sharp and clean. It was undeniably beautiful, the sunlight streaming through the canopy and the faint sound of birdsong breaking the stillness. But I was in no mood to enjoy it.

“Why are we even out here?” I asked, kicking a stray pine cone and watching it bounce off the trail. “Is this your idea of some romantic bonding exercise or something?”

Nicholas glanced back at me, one eyebrow raised. “Romantic? Hardly. I thought you might want to know the lay of the land since you’re going to be living here.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered, glancing around at the towering trees. “I’ll make sure to memorize every root and rock so I don’t trip when I inevitably try to escape.”

He ignored my jab, continuing forward until the trail widened into a small clearing with a wooden bench and a trickling stream nearby. “This is one of the more secluded spots,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the space. “Good for thinking. Or hiding, I suppose.”

I rolled my eyes, dropping onto the bench and crossing my legs. “Are you planning on giving me the grand tour, or is this just an excuse to drag me away from breakfast?”

He turned to face me, leaning casually against a tree with his arms crossed. “What’s your problem today? I feel like you’re not usually this prickly.” He paused, smirking a little, then added, “I mean, you’re always prickly, but not quite like this.”

I turned to him, my mouth hanging open with shock. Nicholas, the master of emotional wishy-washiness, was asking why I was prickly today?

“What’s my problem?” I repeated, my voice rising a little. I shot to my feet, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You’re my problem, Nicholas. You’re a pain in the ass, that’s what!”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he said nothing, so I barreled on, my frustration bubbling over like a pot left on the stove too long.

“Your back-and-forth attitude is exhausting! One minute you’re teasing me, the next you’re acting like some brooding old man, and then you’re pinning me to a bed and using your damn body to confuse me.”

He opened his mouth, probably to smirk or throw out some witty retort, but I cut him off.

“And don’t even get me started on how you assume every woman on the planet is just dying to sleep with you,” I snapped, taking a step closer. “Newsflash, not everyone finds your smoldering, narcissistic Alpha thing attractive!”

“Really?” he drawled, his smirk finally making an appearance. “Because this morning—”

“Don’t,” I warned. “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

His smirk widened, but the glint in his eyes softened just enough for me to see the hint of curiosity there. “Is that all, or are you going to keep yelling?”

“No,” I said, crossing my arms. “That’s not all. I’m still pissed about yesterday.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. “Yesterday?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said, stepping closer until I was nearly toe-to-toe with him. “What I saw in the guild hall basement. That woman you were interrogating. She looked terrified of you. What the hell were you doing, Nicholas?”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright,” he said quietly. “I guess I should tell you about yesterday, at the very least.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “You think?”

He ignored my sarcasm, his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder as he spoke. “The woman you saw, Grace… she’s been held captive by the guild for years. She was the last person to see my mother alive.”

That caught me off guard, and I blinked up at him, my anger momentarily forgotten. “Your mother?”

“Mia,” he said, his voice softening. “She died under… mysterious circumstances. Grace was there when it happened, and I believe she knows more than she’s letting on. Something big. Something the guild doesn’t want getting out.”

I studied his face, the tightness in his jaw and the flicker of pain in his eyes. For once, there was no smirk, no teasing glint, just raw emotion. I found it hard to stay angry with him when he was like this—when, on rare occasions, his guard came down just a little and revealed a real man underneath, not just a caricature of an Alpha.

“So I’ve been sneaking into the guild to interrogate her myself,” he continued. “But it never goes anywhere. She just cries and insists she doesn’t know anything.”

I thought back to the woman I had seen in that cold, sterile room yesterday—the way she had trembled, her tears, her hollow eyes.

“Well, yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, Nicholas. She’s scared shitless of you. Of course she’s not going to talk.”

Nicholas frowned, glancing at me. “What do you know about interrogations?”

“More than you might think,” I said, lifting my chin. “When my father went into his coma, there were multiple attempted uprisings in the pack. Mason’s coup the other day certainly wasn’t the first time. I’ve had to deal with more than my fair share of prisoners.”

“And you got them to talk?” he asked, sounding a little skeptical.

“Eventually,” I said. “Usually by playing nice until they told me everything.”

He shook his head. “But I’ve tried every tactic with Grace. Nothing works.”

I shrugged, a small smirk tugging at my lips. “Then let me try.”

His laugh was sharp and disbelieving. “Yeah, right.”

The dismissiveness in his tone made my blood boil, and I huffed. “Suit yourself,” I ground out. “I’ve had enough of you for one day.”

With that, I turned on my heel, ready to leave him and his stubborn pride behind in the woods. But before I could take more than two steps, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“Wait,” he said, his voice a touch softer this time.

I looked back at him, arching an eyebrow. “Change your mind already?” I asked.

He hesitated, his grip lingering around my wrist. For a moment, just a moment, I saw that smug facade of his slip a little. He stared down at his feet. “Would you… would you help me tomorrow?” he asked.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A moment ago he didn’t believe me, and now he wanted my help. How ironic.

Of course I was going to help him—the fate of my pack depended on keeping the bastard happy. But I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.

For a moment, I considered his question, thinking of what to say. Then, my lips curled up a little as an idea struck me.

“Beg,” I said, folding my arms and smirking at him. “And I’ll consider it.”