Natalie glanced over her shoulder, watching Gregory Morgan stumble away across the hospital garden. The weight of his blackmail pressed against her chest like a stone, but the victory of her scheme still burned bright. She had succeeded where others had failed—manipulating the Alpha King himself.
Julian's hand rested possessively on her lower back as they walked toward the hospital entrance. His touch sent a thrill through her body. This was how it was always meant to be.
"That man seemed to know you well," Julian said, his amber eyes searching her face. "Are you sure he was just asking for directions?"
I forced a light laugh. "Julian, you worry too much. He's nobody—just some drunk who got lost on hospital grounds."
"He made you uncomfortable. I could smell your anxiety."
My heart skipped. Sometimes I forgot how perceptive werewolves could be, especially one as powerful as Julian.
