Chapter 37

Shirley

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing there - it could be seconds or maybe even hours. Then again, it almost feels like time stops and the world melts away. Once again, I don’t understand.

How can Ralph seem so malicious toward Anya? Toward me? With only half my wits, I try to check in with Cicy, but she’s practically unresponsive as she rests within me. Her recent tired nature only adds to my confusion, causing my eyes to remain fogged as they stay on the door Ralph just slipped through.

Empty threats, I try to tell myself. They’re all just empty threats.

Maybe Ralph thinks that by trying to intimidate me that I’ll fold and start desperately trying to reach Anya, that I can get her to come back. It’s the only thing that seems semi-logical. I can’t see how any other explanation could possibly make any sense.

I’m still thinking over the whole ordeal, eyes pinned to the door when I feel a strange sense of comfort come over me - which doesn’t make sense to me. Was my reasoning really that believable that I could swallow Ralph’s threats so easily?

But then I notice it - the scent. It’s Keith’s and it’s gathering around me. The realization only deepens my confusion as I address Cicy once again, wondering if she somehow conjured up the smell to ease me. I have half a thought to scold her, but then my heart is leaping as I hear a voice.

“Are you okay?

I swiftly turn, blinking as I find Keith two feet behind me, his brows still pulled together as he studies both me and the closed door. Apparently it wasn’t Cicy playing mind tricks - the scent I tracked was actually Keith.

Once more, I blink. He asked me a question and I need to answer - although, I’m a little surprised that he’s concerned about my well-being. But then again…even if Keith has proven he can be a pain in the ass, I know that he can be a caring Alpha.

“Yes,” I finally say. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a random thought and I stopped without thinking.” It’s a silly lie, but it’s much better than the truth. He wouldn’t understand about Ralph and it’s probably not a big enough issue to raise.

Keith continues to stare at me, seeming as if he’s thinking over my reason. However, he eventually nods and accepts it. That’s when I take the time to also observe him. I hadn’t noticed it before as I’d been too focused on his reaction to my work, but he seems a little…worn down. Once again, it’s subtle, but I see the small hints. He’s as gorgeous as ever, but his hair is slightly more dishelved than usual. For some reason, my fingers twitch around the folder I’m still holding as if longing to fix the strands. Only, I definitely make sure to keep them in place.

“How are things going with the protests?” I find myself asking, figuring it’s the cause for his tiredness. “Or the missing she-wolves? Any news?”

Keith quirks a brow at my questions and I quickly realize that it was probably a mistake to ask him about either issue. After all, this isn’t my pack and it’s not my business. Really, I’d just been interested in questioning his own well-being, but apparently I’d taken a more round about manner.

“They’re fine,” is all he says back and it doesn’t at all surprise me. As I acknowledged, I have no rank within the pack to earn any details.

I hum and nod in reply, fingers readjusting on the folder. “That’s good,” I reply despite thinking his words are not the truth. However, I don’t press him on the matter. He seems to approve of that as I see his features smooth a little.

“And how’s the house?” he asks. “Still enjoying it.”

Again, I nod. “Absolutely. Although…I have to say that the books you’ve provided are a little…dull.”

Each night when I finished my work, I usually had to find something else to fill my time. Since I’m not big on browsing social media and I don’t have any friends in town to hang with, I turned to the shelves in the living room filled with books. However, all five I’ve tried to read through quickly lost my interest. Honestly, who enjoys reading six-hundred pages about one man’s journey to kill a bird?

Keith seems to take interest in my words, his head tilting as he thinks them over. His lips even twitch a little as if amused by what I’ve said, causing a pinch in my skin.

“They’re more for decoration,” he tells me. “I hadn’t expected that anyone would be reading them.”

“Well, then your expectations were wrong,” I inform him, lifting my chin.

Again, Keith seems entertained by our interaction as his eyes look me over. “Evidently,” he replies. “Would you prefer I have a few new titles sent over?”

I open my mouth, wanting to tell him that’s unnecessary. After all, I’m perfectly capable of ordering my own books or even visiting the library. But then again, who am I to turn him down if he’s offering? And then whoever stays at the Tudor when I’m gone can also enjoy the books once I leave them behind - they can thank me later.

“That would be nice,” I finally say, giving a gentle nod.

Keith nods back. “Give Warren a list of books you’d like. I’ll get them for you.”

Once more, Keith’s behavior surprises me. This whole conversation is different from any other we’ve had. It’s civil and practically enjoyable, especially since there's been no mention of Anya. I’m thankful for that and for the fact that he’s going to provide new reading material. His attempt at kindness is unexpected.

“Thank you,” I tell him, knowing I mean the words.

Keith gives a shrug as if it’s no big deal, or maybe he’s just unaffected by my gratitude - it’s so hard to tell with him. I’ve convinced myself at this point that I may never be able to read him. Especially as he once again catches me off guard as he begins to speak.

“I’m surprised you find time to read with all the work you’ve been doing,” he states. “It’s very thorough and impressive - I assumed you spent every waking moment on it.”

My skin nearly reddens at his words, or rather his compliment. He said my work was thorough and impressive! That has to count as a compliment, right? I feel my feet yearn to shift as I feel the effect of his statement. I know he seemed pleased when he’d first looked over my file, but he hadn’t said anything. All of his reactions had been strictly physical, but hearing him actually say he approves means more.

“Well, once again, your assumptions are wrong,” I reply, still buzzed from his words. “I have a pretty good system and work a regular nine to five.” Although, I did sneak in a few hours before and after that time frame - sometimes I just can’t resist getting ahead.

“But thank you,” I begin again. “The pack’s help only makes my job easier, which is probably why I’m able to get so much done.”

Keith gives a soft, throaty sound at my words, his gaze taking me in as he doesn’t give any further response. And I don’t say anything either, not finding it necessary to fill our newfound silence. It’s strange…even if he’s watching me so firmly, I still feel at ease and he appears to reflect my nature. Sure, he’s obviously still distant, but that seems to be Keith’s constant state. Like Jean had mentioned - he’s a proper and old school wolf.

But the longer we stand there, the more I realize how comfortable I feel in his presence, which is only worsened as I notice his scent still surrounding me. Why does it seem stronger than ever? It’s practically infiltrating my head and making me feel off. I’ve never experienced anything like it.

And then that last thought finally has me feeling uncomfortable. I nearly shift my shoulders, but just use the urge to turn myself instead. With stiff limbs, I give him a nod.

“Excuse me,” I say. “I need to call Alana with updates.”

And I hardly see his reaction to my comment or actions, only seeing a fraction of his features tensing before I fully swivel away. And then I’m walking out the door, breathing a little easier the farther I get from Keith’s scent.