Page 46 of Wolf Roulette

Or Sascha and I were on a one-way ride to destruction.

* * *

I paced in the bungalow, checking the time on my phone. The Tuesday tribe gathering was almost over.

My phone buzzed and I scrambled to read the message from Wade.

Rhona has taken measures against their plan.

Telling Pascal worked.

Thank fuck for that.

And also,shit.

I had just over twenty-four hours until Sascha realised I’d passed on pack information. This moment was always inevitable, perhaps. But Booker had told me to trust my instincts, and after the tense talk with Sascha earlier today, my instincts burned stronger than ever.

No matter who won, Sascha and I lost.

That wasn’t something I could accept.

I slipped my phone away and walked to dinner.

He wasn’t in the pack house, and it felt horrible to feel so damnrelievedabout that.But I was. I’d spent the afternoon scenting his anguish. He’d spent the afternoon scenting mine.

We didn’t touch once.

More distance. More walls.

It was just easier when I couldn’t smell his hurt and pain.

I grabbed some marinade-slathered ribs, adding pulled pork and a steak. Wrinkling my nose, I heaped on carrots and broccoli.

Put the ribs in our mouth,my wolf said.

I sat and obeyed.

“Where’s Sascha?” Evelyn asked.

“Unsure,” I replied. “At work still?”

She frowned. “He’s usually back for dinner.”

My reaction to his answer had thrown him. I didn’t know exactly what he’d realised in that moment, but maybe similar thoughts to mine were circulating his mind right now.

Perhaps he’d seen that our future may not be quite as he’d envisioned.

Or at all.

I consulted the elastic pull under my ribs. “He’s moving fast. He must have shifted and gone for a run.”

And if I shifted afterdinner, our paths wouldn’t cross until bedtime.

“Mandy sure doesn’t like you.” Another of the alpha women jerked her head to the top table. The woman wore her jet-black hair in a pixie cut.

A quick glance confirmed that Mandy was glaring daggers at me. “I thought that was respect and friendship.”

At her snort, the brunette I’d knocked out and the blonde who’d carried her away fixed hard gazes on the woman.