11: But Why Tonight?

It was 6:22 when we finally made it to the front gates, where two black carriages were already waiting for us.

Alastor had been strangely calm the entire time we were getting Rachel ready, and the longer it lasted, the more suspicious I became.

He helped her choose between two dresses, eventually agreeing with her that the yellow one looked prettier. He sat on the edge of her bed while I brushed her golden curls, listened to her talk about absolutely nothing for almost twenty minutes, and even helped her put on her shoes when she complained that I had tied one of the ribbons too tight.

Rachel was happier than I'd seen her in a long time.

I wasn't.

My wolf had been pacing inside me for the past hour, and no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I was overthinking things, she wasn't buying it either.

'I don't trust this, Ava. He's too calm, so I know a storm is brewing in there.'

'I agree, Kennedy, but for now we just have to stay calm ourselves,' I told my wolf.

Three days.

That was all we needed.

Whatever Alastor was planning, I only needed to survive it for three more days, and then Rachel and I would be gone.

Alastor had informed us that only Trenton and Dwight would be accompanying us tonight because Alpha Roland wanted to keep the gathering small, which sounded strange considering everything I'd ever heard about the Sharptooth Alpha.

Small and Roland weren't two words I'd ever expected to hear in the same sentence.

There was one carriage for the Alpha and his family, while the second was for the Beta, Dwight and the few guards accompanying us.

Rachel took one look at the second carriage and immediately pointed.

"Can I ride with Uncle Trent, Mama?"

"No, honey. You have to ride with us."

Her face fell. "Why?"

"Because we're going somewhere you've never been before, and I want you with me."

"But Mama, Kira said her mama and papa kiss and hug all the time. Why don't you ever kiss Papa?"

What did that have to do with anything?

I slowly turned my head towards Alastor and found the bastard looking thoroughly amused by the sudden turn in conversation.

"Well, Kira needs a good spanking for saying such things," I said. "But your mama and papa do kiss in private."

Rachel's eyes widened with interest. "Like being alone in a carriage?"

Oh, Goddess.

Alastor chuckled beside me while I stared at my daughter, wondering when exactly six-year-olds had started discussing their parents' love lives.

"OK, Rach," he said. "You can ride with your uncle when we're coming back to the pack house, but for now, you ride with us."

"OK, Papa Alastor."

That seemed to satisfy her because she happily climbed inside, and I followed after her.

The journey to Sharptooth Pack couldn't have lasted much longer than an hour, but with Rachel falling asleep against my side barely ten minutes into the ride, it felt more like three.

That left Alastor and me sitting across from each other with absolutely nothing between us except our sleeping daughter and thirteen years' worth of reasons why I didn't want to have a conversation with him.

He stared at me almost the entire way.

Not occasionally, and certainly not whenever he thought I wasn't looking. The man made absolutely no effort to hide it.

Every few minutes, he rubbed his chin or slowly dragged his thumb across his bottom lip while his eyes moved over my face as though he was studying something he'd somehow missed during the last thirteen years.

I tried looking through the window and watching the trees pass by. When that didn't work, I watched Rachel sleep for a while, smoothing her curls away from her face whenever the carriage bounced over an uneven part of the road.

Eventually, I started counting trees.

Seventy-three.

I made it to seventy-three before I lost count because Alastor was still staring at me.

"What?" I finally snapped.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Nothing."

"Then stop staring at me."

His smile grew, but instead of answering, he leaned back against his seat and continued looking at me like he'd discovered some private joke that I wasn't invited to.

I hated that smile.

Alastor was many things, but difficult to read had never been one of them. If he was angry, everyone knew it. If he wanted blood, someone usually ended up bleeding, and if he wanted me, he had never been shy about making that known either.

This was different.

He was thinking.

About what, I had no idea, but whatever was going through that twisted mind of his had kept his attention on me for almost an hour, and Kennedy had become so restless that I could practically feel her claws beneath my skin.

Thankfully, the carriage finally began to slow, and the sound of horses settling outside told me we had reached our destination.

"We are here, Alpha," the driver announced.

I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and looked down at Rachel, who was still peacefully sleeping beside me as though she hadn't just spent the last hour trapped inside a carriage with a man who made grown wolves nervous.

Before I could wake her, Alastor spoke.

"You are fucking beautiful, Ava-Rose."

My hand stopped halfway towards Rachel.

I looked at him.

He was grinning.

"Sometimes I forget," he continued, dragging his eyes slowly over my face. "But I want you to know that I think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. If only you could be obedient and give me a fucking son, then you'd be perfect."

There it was.

A compliment from Alastor Drexel, beautifully wrapped around an insult and a demand.

"How romantic."

His laughter followed him as he opened the carriage door and climbed out, and naturally, the bastard didn't even bother helping me down after declaring me the most beautiful woman in the world.

At least he was consistent.

I gently woke Rachel before climbing out with her, and the second her feet touched the ground, she stared past me.

"Wow! Are we going in there?"

I turned to see what had caught her attention.

Sharptooth's pack house wasn't a house.

It was a fortress.

The massive stone mansion stood beyond another set of iron gates, with narrow windows glowing orange against the darkening sky. Sharp towers rose from either side, while stone wolves lined the entrance with their mouths open and their teeth bared as though they were waiting for someone stupid enough to stick a hand inside.

No wonder they called themselves Sharptooth.

"Yes, honey. Now come along."

Rachel didn't move.

I looked down at her and felt her little fingers tighten around mine.

"No, Mama."

"What?"

"I don't want to go in there."

Her voice had gotten quieter, and when she stared up at the mansion again, whatever excitement she'd felt a few seconds ago was gone.

"This place is creepy, and I'm scared."

I immediately stooped in front of her and held both her hands.

"Don't worry, baby. No one will hurt you. I'm here, and I won't let go of you."

She studied my face as though making sure I meant it before finally nodding.

We caught up with Alastor, Trenton and Dwight near the entrance, and when Alastor noticed Rachel rubbing her eyes, he surprised me again by bending down and lifting her into his arms without saying a word.

Rachel didn't protest.

She simply rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes again.

That strange feeling returned to the pit of my stomach.

For most of Rachel's life, Alastor had treated fatherhood like another title attached to his name. He provided for her, protected what he believed belonged to him and occasionally remembered that children required attention.

Tonight, he was different.

He was acting like a father.

But why tonight?