Big Bad Wolfie

32) The Tea

  Silence and tension you could cut with a knife filled the air.

Along with Wolfie's icy chill, of course.

Happy stood looking between us like a child watching his parents have an argument.

And Wolfie stood looking down at me like he was going to squash me under his massive shoe.

"Explain," he barked shortly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Hm, explain. Explain which part? The part where I cut my skin open without blinking an eye? Or how the poison didn't affect me as much? Or the knowing looks the three of us shared? So many things to explain.

None of them pretty.

None of them I feel particularly inclined to share with him.

"Where did that dagger come from?" He gritted out slowly. "And how are you so familiar with it that you're immune to it's poison?"

Oh.

He wants that explanation. . .

Well. . . Um.

My throat started tightening, so I just looked away from him, not answering his question.

I watched his fists clench and unclench.

"Maria," he gritted out calmly.

Well not calmly, but the calm that comes before a storm. Yeah, that kind. When you piss someone off and their voice remains monotonous, but they're looking at you like they're going to eat you.

That's what it sounded like.

I'm still not looking at him because it makes my stomach churn, but I'm quite sure he's not smiling.

"Fine then, tell me why when you saw the knife your face went even f**king paler, and why the alpha and master looked like they wanted to s**t themselves even looking at it."

. . . Okay.

I suppose he has a right to know that part. His pack isn't too far off from here, so that could mean they're in danger as well.

". . . How old were you. . . during the Blood War?" I asked slowly.

I could feel my breathing become a little labored.

"I was turning thirteen towards the end."

I furrowed my brows at him. "You're about to turn twenty and you're still this naive?"

He let out a growl.

I put my hands up, "Just a question."

"Keep going," he growled. "What does that have to do with this?"

I hesitated, "Did your parents ever tell you about the ones that started the war? The enemy everyone was fighting?"

"All most of the children were told was that they were some very powerful and bad, bad people," Happy interjected.

I turned to him, "The worst."

I looked back to Wolfie, wanting to hear his experience as the alpha's kid.

"No, they told me about the same as everyone else." He looked to Happy. "I only remember one attack and they got me out of there as fast as they could," The shoulder with the nasty scar on it twitched a bit. Hm.

But really? His parents didn't want to teach him about this, the crap show of war, even though he was taking their place at some point? Weird. Thirteen is young. But some alphas are on the battlefield by then, and if not, most certainly in training — holy sh*t his brother, I'm an @sshole.