Chapter 143: A Family Affair

GINGER

“Ready,” I said softly, stepping onto the plush carpeting of the living room and drawing Ghost’s gaze away from his phone.

“Just in time-” he started to say, before his words died in his throat and his eyes banked to black, the twitch of a half smile curling up on one side of his mouth. His perusal swept over me so slowly I had to ignore the urge to duck back into my room and change, choosing to do a little twirl instead to counteract the cowardly instinct.

When I turned back around it was to find Ghost with his eyes closed and his hand over the crotch of his jeans. Whether he was squeezing or diverting, I couldn’t be sure, but the swiftly growing bulge that tightened the front of his pants could not be missed.

“I did this to myself,” he whispered. “Picture Zelda, picture Zelda, picture Zelda, or an old…rogue with sagging tits and a toothless smile. Maybe she’s bald too. One leg and half a knee…stuck in a half shift with matted fur on her-”

I snickered, marching in his direction and flicking him in his chin when his eyes remained closed.

He let loose with a startled yelp, glaring at me through narrowed eyes as he fought to keep his gaze higher than my throat. “We will walk very slowly and you will speak of this to no one. Never. Ever.”

Opening the front door, I batted my lashes, swatting at his junk as I spun around and stepped out of the dorm.

“Awww!” he cried out. “Red! Why? Why would you do that? You devil!”

I continued toward the landing, catching sight of my reflection in the tall back windows that led out into the courtyard as I began my trek down. Once again I was enamored with what I saw staring back at me. Never in all my years had ever imagined a dress could fit so wickedly well and never had I ever felt as empowered.

Ghost was right. This dress could stop traffic.

“I said slow!” Came Ghost’s irritated rumble from somewhere behind me. “Have you no mercy?”

Rolling my eyes, I paused once I reached the first floor and waited for Ghost to catch up to me. He still had a hand closed over the front of his pants, but I think it was more out of embarrassment than it was anything else.

“Might I take your arm?” I asked in my very best foreign accent, nodding toward his elbow as I raised my hand to close over it.

“I shouldn’t speak to you right now,” was his reply, his eyes still twitching as they fought to remain respectful. “I spent half the night talking you into that dress and now I’m in danger of spending the other half trying to talk you out of it and into my bed.”

I bit down on my lip to fight back a giggle and he glared at me, his eyes dropping down toward my mouth. “Please don’t touch me, Red. I can’t handle it.”

With a half snort, I turned away from him. “Fine. I can make it the rest of the way by myself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked my back, and by the sound of his voice it was obvious he was already heading up the stairs.

My only reply was a middle finger and a raised arm, and his bellowing laughter chased me into the Eastern hall.

As I neared the dining room my confidence began to falter, the sound of Zelda’s irritating tenor crawling into my ear like a roach. She was complaining. Naturally. Her favorite pastime seemed to have become displeasure, but it’s not so much her voice, as it is what she is saying that has me stopped just before the open archway to keep behind the potted palm yet again.

“What do you mean you won’t be joining the run?” Zelda practically screeched. “It’s tradition, Lincoln.”

“It’s not necessary, mother. I have no one to chase, so I won’t be running. I will oversee the event as required, but that. Is. All.”

“But…I was hoping to run,” a soft, sugar drenched voice supplied. “I’ve dreamed of it since I was young.”

“No one said you couldn’t join,” came Lincoln’s flat reply and I could almost picture his dispassionate face as he stated the words. “In fact, I encourage you to.”

Ha! How is that fair? Why does she get to run?

Wait! Did I just hear Lincoln say he would not be running and then telling her that she should?

The slow burn of satisfaction roasted through me, burning away my trepidation and urging me toward the light.

Lincoln forbade me from running.

Is that because he never planned to run himself?

Maybe…

“But what if someone else catches me?” The female replied, her voice suddenly huskier. “What if they mark me?”

“Then I would assume you would get what you came for,” answered a voice only slightly familiar, one that belonged to Alpha Rafael. “A betrothal.”

A chorus of snickers sounded to counter the Timberwolf female’s exasperated huff and I straightened my back, sucked in a deep breath and stepped into full view of the dining room, just beyond the threshold.

“The appetizers have been gone for twenty minutes,” Giselle complained. “When are they bringing the main course? I’m hungry.”

For a long drawn out moment, it was as if no one noticed me. Lincoln’s eyes were closed as he rubbed at one temple and as I stood there, half naked and completely ignored, I started to lose my nerve. Already backing up, I began to retreat, my feet stepping slow and silent as I mentally mapped the course back toward my friend, the potted palm.

Alpha Mario’s voice boomed, “Ginger?”

Oh…wouldn’t you know…he can see me after all. And he even knows my name.

I didn’t look at him, my attention locking on Lincoln’s moss colored irises. It was my turn to pretend to be blind, just as Alpha Mario has been for the last three years.

Lincoln’s eyes snapped open and every other head in the room swiveled in my direction, including Alpha Rafael’s.

“Who…is that?” Timberwolf grumbled, only to be ignored.

Every Alpha and retired Alpha in the dining room suddenly shot up from his seat to bestow upon me their full attention. They did it so synchronously that I half expected them to bow. Or kneel. I would have accepted either.

“Ginger?” Zelda snarled. “What the ff-devil…are you doing here? This is a private dinner. A…family affair.”

“I invited her,” Lincoln said in a cold, sharp voice, never taking his eyes from mine. “She’s here…for me.”