Chapter 55

Grace

My face heated as the thought passed through my mind, and he smiled at me.

“I thought maybe Cecil had gotten a hold of it, but something tells me this is all you.”

I smiled, trying not to be embarrassed at the sight of my binder.

“She had to get it from somewhere. Thank you," I replied, taking it from him and cradling its weight against my chest. Our fingers brushed briefly, sending a tingle down my spine. "And good luck with the investigation."

He smiled a warm, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat. "I'll do my best," he said. "I'll see you later, Grace."

I looked down and was pleasantly surprised to find all the papers and additional folders there despite the rubber band that had once held it together being gone. In its place were two large, thick black bands that seemed to hook together. It certainly felt sturdier than all the rubber bands I had used over the years.

“Can I keep this?”

He chuckled. “Of course.”

As he turned to leave, I couldn't help but watch him go, feeling a mixture of longing and anticipation. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much I wanted to understand. I still didn’t know why he was being so distant, but all of that had to wait.

For now, I had to get back to work in the lab.

Dr. Thompson was bent over a stack of papers when I got back down. She shook her head.

“The first time I saw that monstrosity, I wanted to call you a child.”

I flushed. “Leave my lucky binder alone.”

She smiled. “At least, some things never change.”

She sighed. “Based on what I’ve seen, the foundations are still there, but there are gaps in the research, and a lot of the data is outdated.”

I looked down, wondering if anything in my binder was worth keeping any longer. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked at it or even updated the research inside of it. I sighed, realizing the magnitude of the task ahead.

"We'll need to conduct new experiments, gather more data, and update the body of research we’re using. That means… talking to more witches, I guess.”

I winced at the thought. “Do you think they’ve gotten any friendlier?”

“I think you have an ally who they adore,” Dr. Thompson said and flipped a page.

“Charles?”

“Who else?” She grinned. “Witches hate werewolves in general, but they adore lycans.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Probably for the same reasons witches hate a lot of other people: they’ve had a history. The number of werewolves who have tried to commit crimes in witch territories because they know that werewolf energy doesn’t read the same when in human and wolf form is astounding. If they could discover a way to keep werewolves out of their territory, they’d be ecstatic.” She grinned. “Well, they did, and they are ecstatic.”

“Let me guess, Lycan Enforcers?”

“You guessed it. Charles created that treaty… about a year before he became king,” she smiled. “His mother was a witch.”

My eyes widened. “What? I thought… Well, I thought lycans didn’t tend to… I don’t know. Mingle?”

She lifted a shoulder. “The chances of two lycans finding their mate are the same as werewolves: one in a million. There are rules about how you handle finding your mate after you’ve committed yourself, but Charles’ father was a man who believed in finding as much happiness as he could… It certainly helped that his mate was murdered brutally.”

My gut clenched in horror. “I don’t even … know what to say.”

She lifted a shoulder. “His elder brother left the Clans after that.”

“He has a brother?” I asked. “That’s not in the news anywhere.”

“Charles protects his privacy, religiously. Why do you think no one knows who his mate is either?”

I bit my lip. “Do you know?”

She tutted. “You’re asking me to betray his confidence whether I know or not.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“Perhaps if you just asked him, he would tell you what you wanted to know,” she said. “He has no shame about his past, and if you mean to pursue him, you should adopt the same stance. Lycans don’t tend to pussy-foot around about what we want, especially not alpha lycans.”

I huffed and ducked my head. “Right. Well… Do you think it’s doable in a few weeks time?”

“You growing a spine and asking Charles?”

I flushed. “Updating our research base and preparing for new experiments.”

“If you’re willing to work all night,” Dr. Thompson said. “For the next few nights. I should tell you that I’m not putting in any hours more than you.”

We met gazes, and I nodded. “I understand.”

“Good, and you should be looking into expanding the team soon.”

I groaned. “I hate to say it, but I think that will be more feasible after we get it to patent.”

She chuckled. “I’m not surprised.”

The intercom went off again.

“Hello?”

“Alpha Wolfe, there’s a Dr. Worth here?”

I frowned. “Send him down.”

Dr. Thompson cocked an eyebrow. “And what do you expect him to do here?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea why he’s here yet…”

Soon, I heard Jackson coming down the hallway. Jackson appeared at the door, dressed in a crisp lab coat, looking ready to dive into work.

“Hey,” Jackson said. “I didn’t realize I was late.”

“You’re not,” I sighed. “I didn’t call you because the project is… apparently still in the formulation stage. No progress has been made since I left. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we’re not even ready to submit it for patent yet.”

His expression faltered, a mix of disappointment and uncertainty. “It’s that far behind.”

I nodded. “Dr. Thompson and I are going to put together a plan to get us back on track sooner rather than later, though. Consider it a bit of rest before I work you to death. Didn’t you just leave a ridiculously long and arduous project?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll… Well, I guess I’ll wait for marching orders. Sorry for jumping the gun.”

He turned to leave, and Dr. Thompson let out a derisive sound as the door closed behind him.

“What?”

She smiled thinly. “You can see to the heart of a person’s character in what they’re willing to do and what they’re not willing to do. You should ask yourself what that whole exchange should tell you about him.”

I felt defensive. “Jackson’s a good person. This isn’t his field of expertise. It would be unfair to expect him to try and catch up like this.”

“Would it be unfair for him to offer?” She asked. “I doubt he has the mental flexibility to catch up. I doubt he would even start to understand the basics, but he could have offered his help anyway. Even if that was just as a research assistant.”

I blinked. Her words settled over me.

“The path forward is a hard one. We have a long road ahead of us, and we need allies, not just warm bodies or people looking to slap their name on it for the bit of work they did at the end."

I wasn’t convinced that Jackson thought of it that way, but I couldn’t help but think more about her words. She dropped her gaze back to her documents and notes, and the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if my defensiveness of Jackson even made sense.

Dr. Thompson had come out of retirement for me even though I walked out on the work years ago. At the least, she set some of her resentment aside and came back because she believed in the project.

Still, Jackson had been my friend for so long. I knew he wanted to help. Maybe I was overthinking it.

Or maybe I didn’t want to think about it any longer. Who knew?

Hours passed in the blink of an eye. The intercom buzzed, and I answered.

“Hello?”

“Are the two scientists going to eat any time soon?” Charles drawled.

Margaret’s stomach growled. “Are you offering to bring me food or asking if we’re done for the day?”

“Knowing you, Maggie, I’m offering delivery. And you, Grace? Are you heading home?”

I wanted to, but I remember Dr. Thompson’s words. “No… I think I’ll stay.”

“Dinner and snacks for two scientists. I’ll bring it by soon.”

I blinked as he hung up. Never once had I imagined Charles not saying anything about me staying. I was dazed when he came down with a visitor’s badge, dragging a cooler behind him. He wiggled his eyebrows as he passed our working room and headed towards the break room.

Dr. Thompson slipped from her chair and went to follow. I followed behind.

“What’d you bring?”

“Cecil had a few suggestions, so I brought the lot. I figured you’d be here at least until morning.” He stopped the cooler beside the refridgerator and set the bags he was carrying on the table.

“What’s… Is that my duffle bag?”