Who the Hell Is That

POV: James

I yanked Steve away from his family with zero ceremony, dragging him behind one of the trees at the edge of the yard. A low growl already built in my throat, and I barely noticed how tight my fingers had curled into the fabric of Steve's sleeve.

"Steve. Who the hell is that?"

Steve blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden edge in my voice. "Who are you talking about, Alpha?"

"That punk. Standing there, grinning at Trishelle like he owns the place."

Steve turned to follow my line of sight just as the two figures disappeared toward the pack house. Recognition dawned on his face, easing into something between amusement and reassurance. "Oh, that's Sammy. Samuel Parker. I took him on a few years back, trained him up for business work. Good worker, sharp mind. Hasn't been back in two years though."

"He's an orphan too, isn't he?" My frown deepened. Jealousy still simmered under my skin even with the explanation. If Sammy grew up orphaned like Trishelle, that would at least explain the closeness between them. Rosie always had a soft spot for taking in strays, human enough in scent to slip through most doors, kind enough to keep them once they arrived. It made sense. And yet the sense of it did nothing to loosen the tightness clawing at my chest.

"Alright, Steve. Thanks. Sorry for pulling you off from your family like that."

Steve shrugged, easy and unbothered, clearly used to my occasional outbursts by now. He wandered back toward his wife and kids, a knowing look on his face that he didn't bother hiding. Even with the Gamma vouching for the guy, something still sat wrong about watching another male hover so close to her, laughing at whatever she'd said, standing near enough to catch her scent.

Mine. The word hit me out of nowhere, sharp and possessive, and I hated how much I meant it.

I spent the first hour of the party mingling on autopilot. I nodded along to pack members, half listened to a swarm of excited pups tugging at my sleeves and asking about the fireworks planned for later, and shot narrow looks toward Sammy every time the guy smiled at Trishelle.

Does he have to grin at her like that? Every damn time?

But watching her relax more and more in Sammy's company slowly wore my temper down. Hard to stay pissed off when she smiled like that, easy and unguarded, nothing like the careful mask she usually wore around this pack. Something in my chest loosened at the sight, some tension I hadn't even realized I'd been dragging around since the day she first walked through the pack house doors.

I've never seen her this alive before.

Soon my eyes stayed locked on her completely, tracking every twitch of her lips, every small lift of her brow, every soft huff of laughter she tried and failed to swallow down. I caught myself fascinated in a way that felt embarrassingly close to obsession, unable to look away even when logic told me to knock it off. Several she-wolves sent me long, suggestive looks throughout the meal. Every single one sailed right past me, unnoticed. I was too busy cataloging Trishelle, the curve of her smile, the way her hair caught the firelight, to even register that food sat in front of me.

Richard clocked it fast. His frown settled deep as he watched his Alpha stare across the yard like a man under a spell. If someone actually wanted to poison me tonight, this would be the night. He leaned over and waved a hand right in front of my face, snapping his fingers when the first attempt didn't land.

"Alpha James. Earth to Alpha James."

"What?" I huffed, irritated at the interruption to what I'd been calling, in my head, important surveillance work.

I'm a little busy stalking my beautiful prey, Richard. Give me a second.

"Just wondering how the fish tasted," Richard said, an odd glint of mischief already sparking in his eyes.

"It was delicious," I said automatically, not even glancing down at my plate. "Well seasoned. Well cleaned too, didn't find a single bone in it."

Richard's mouth twitched, fighting hard against the grin threatening to break loose. "Good. Glad it paired well with the rice."

"Yeah. Great choice."

That did it. Richard lost the fight completely and cracked up laughing, loud enough to draw a few glances our way, doubling over with one hand braced against the tree trunk beside them.

"Something funny?" I snapped, more embarrassed now than angry, heat crawling up my ears as pack members turned to look.

Richard wheezed through another round before he managed words, wiping at his eyes. "It's not what you said, man, it's that you have no clue what you actually ate. Fish? At my birthday? I ordered chicken and steak, vegetables on the side. There was no rice dish anywhere on that table."

Heat crawled straight up my neck, mortification settling heavy in my gut.

Did I seriously just hallucinate an entire meal?

Richard studied me for a long beat, watching his supposedly fearsome Alpha blush like a teenager caught staring at his crush, then let out a long, tired sigh and shook his head slowly. "Alpha, this is genuinely bad. If someone wanted you dead tonight, you'd have handed them the perfect window. What is going on with you?"

I groaned and dragged a hand down my face, the weight of the evening's foolishness crashing down on me all at once. "That's the problem. I wasn't thinking. All I can see, all I can think about, is her. It's driving me out of my damn mind." I shot Richard a pointed look, desperation bleeding into my voice despite my best effort to sound composed. "Didn't you say you had a plan?"

Richard's grin came back slow and confident, the earlier laughter fading into something far more calculating. "I did, my very impatient Alpha. And the second those pups head to bed, it's game on for Ms. Trishelle."