Mara
“May I help you?” I asked Lacy, my voice clipped, the message clear: You don’t belong here.
She fidgeted, her confidence cracking the moment she realized I wasn’t going to pretend she hadn’t just walked in without a word.
No greeting. No courtesy. Just entitlement. The air around her screamed smugness, and I didn’t miss the subtle flicker of discomfort in her eyes.
Before she could speak, Alpha Vander stepped in.
“Actually, I asked her to come with me,” he said casually.
I already knew. That didn’t excuse the disrespect.
“Well, in that case,” I replied, meeting his gaze without flinching, “it was still inappropriate for her not to greet me.”
There was a pause—long enough to make the moment uncomfortable.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “I was so pleased about some developments,
