Chapter 59: Chapter 59
The annoying buzz of my phone dragged me from sleep at an ungodly hour. I groaned, burying my face deeper into the pillow that smelled like Christian— His side of the bed was already cold.
Of course it was. The man had a thing about patrolling the borders before the sun even thought about rising.
I reached out through our bond, finding that warm thread of connection that linked us together. He was alert, focused, probably running alongside Marcus and annoying the hell out of the border guards with his perfectionist Alpha tendencies.
Love flooded back through the bond, mixed with amusement. He could feel me being grumpy about his early morning habits.
I smiled into the pillow before forcing myself out of bed. The suite felt different now—less like Christian’s space and more like *ours*. My books were stacked haphazardly on the shelves next to his business journals. My favorite throw blanket was draped over the couch. Pictures from our mating ceremony hung on the walls.
We’d been officially mated for months, and I was still getting used to the whole "having a home" thing.
The coffee maker was already programmed to brew because Christian was annoyingly thoughtful like that. A note sat propped against my favorite mug, the handwriting so terrible I had to squint to decipher it.
*Back by 8. Marcus says hi. Don’t burn down the kitchen. -C*
I snorted. That had happened *one time*. Okay, twice. But who could blame me when the toaster had it out for me?
I poured coffee and wandered to the window, watching the sun creep over Shadow Ridge territory. Luna duties called—I had a meeting with the pack’s education committee at nine, followed by training sessions with the female warriors, then some corporate thing at Knight Industries that Diana swore I couldn’t skip.
Being Luna and heading up the corporate division was like juggling chainsaws while riding a unicycle. On fire.
But I was making it work. Mostly.
The kitchen smoke alarm started shrieking at exactly 7:47 AM.
"Shit, shit, *shit*!" I waved a dish towel frantically at the smoke billowing from the pan. The pancakes—if you could even call them that anymore—were black hockey pucks stuck to the bottom.
The front door burst open. Christian appeared like some kind of domestic superhero, taking in the scene with those impossibly blue eyes. His hair was still damp from his post-run shower, and he was unfairly gorgeous in worn jeans and a t-shirt that clung to muscles I’d thoroughly explored last night.
He started laughing. Not a polite chuckle, but full-on doubled-over laughter that made his shoulders shake.
"It’s not funny," I protested, but I was fighting a smile. "The recipe said medium heat!"
"Sophie." He crossed to me in three strides, plucking the towel from my hands and silencing the alarm with practiced ease. "You were supposed to flip them *before* they became charcoal."
"Details."
He kissed my forehead, then gently moved me aside. "Sit. Let me handle this before you burn down my—*our*—home."
I hopped onto the counter, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate I’d managed not to destroy. "I was trying to surprise you."
"You definitely did that." He pulled out fresh batter, his movements efficient as he heated a clean pan. "How bad are the education committee meeting notes?"
"Bad. Mrs. Henderson wants to expand the curriculum to include ’traditional pack values,’ which sounds suspiciously like code for ’let’s teach the girls to be submissive.’"
Christian’s jaw tightened as he poured perfect circles of batter. "Veto."
"Already done. I suggested we focus on leadership skills and critical thinking instead. She looked like I’d suggested teaching devil worship."
"That’s my Luna." Pride radiated through our bond. "What else is on your schedule?"
"Female warrior training at eleven. Corporate meeting at two. Then Maria wants to discuss expanding the pack’s medical facilities." I snagged another piece of bacon. "You?"
"Conference call with the Seattle pack about border treaties. Knight Industries board meeting. Then I’m visiting your training session."
I raised an eyebrow. "You’re visiting my training session for purely professional reasons, right?"
The look he gave me was absolutely filthy. "Of course. I’m a supportive Alpha who takes interest in all pack programs."
"Uh-huh. It has nothing to do with you getting all hot and bothered watching me take down guys twice my size?"
He flipped pancakes with unnecessary force. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."
Liar. I could feel his desire sparking through the bond just thinking about it.
Christian’s conference call with the Seattle pack was boring enough that I decided interrupting was a public service.
I slipped into his office at Knight Industries while he was deep in discussion about timber rights and territorial boundaries. Connor saw me coming and wisely made himself scarce.
Christian’s eyes tracked me as I rounded his desk, but he kept talking. "The eastern boundary has been stable for three generations. I don’t see why we need to renegotiate—"
I settled onto his lap, making myself comfortable.
His hand automatically went to my hip, steadying me, even as his voice remained professional. "As I was saying, the current arrangement benefits both packs."
I pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, right where I’d marked him. His grip tightened.
"Alpha Knight?" The voice from the speakerphone sounded concerned. "Are you still there?"
"Yes." Christian’s voice had gone slightly rough. "Continue."
I smiled against his skin and kissed higher, finding the spot behind his ear that made him crazy.
His free hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back so he could give me a warning look. I batted my eyelashes innocently.
"I need to call you back," he said abruptly into the phone. "Something urgent has come up."
He disconnected before they could respond.
"That was rude," I said.
"You’re dangerous." But he was already kissing me, deep and possessive and perfect. "I’m supposed to be working."
"So work." I started unbuttoning his shirt. "Don’t let me stop you."
He groaned. "Connor’s going to kill me. That’s the third conference call you’ve interrupted this week."
"Connor needs to learn better timing."
As if summoned, there was a loud knock on the door. "Boss? The board meeting starts in five minutes."
Christian dropped his forehead to my shoulder. "I hate my job."
"No, you don’t."
"Right now I do." But he helped me stand, tucking his shirt back in and running a hand through his hair. "Later."
"Promise?"
