Isabelle Slate had gone her whole life looking forward to finding her mate- the one who'd look after her, love her, and protect her. But when she's matched with the most narcissistic, possessive, gorgeous, and powerful Alpha in the whole Southern Pa...
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"I don't think a Pack picnic is the best idea right now," I murmur flatly as I thumb the dress Jaxon had brought to the cottage. The garment is a mix of patterns and dull colors, reminding me of something my grandmother would have worn.
From my peripheral vision, I see him pull on a Polo over his toned chest. I'm standing a few feet away, adorned in a lace nighty. I turn to him, give him a once-over, and shake my head, "Not that."
He raises an eyebrow at me but pulls the shirt off, nonetheless, and searches for an alternative.
"I think it's the best thing to do right now," He answers as he scrolls through the closet with his fingers. "It will raise morale. Show that we're untouchable and unworried."
"But we're not unworried," I point out.
"They don't know that," He shrugs, pulling out a loose, white, linen button-up. He rolls the sleeves up to his elbows and unbuttons the top few buttons.
"Better," I mumble, still staring at the dress.
"Aren't you going to get dressed?" He questions, passing me and going into the bathroom.
"No, I'm going to wear this," I snark and he growls lowly.
"Isabelle," He warns, popping his head out from the bathroom, his eyes flickering as his wolf makes an appearance.
"I was kidding," I mumble, still thumbing the edge of the dress.
"Put on the dress," He says flatly and I scoff.
"What if I don't want to wear this one?"
"You don't like it?" He comes back out, his black hair slightly gelled to messy perfection.
I shrug, "I mean, it's... interesting."
"You don't like it," He says with finality.
"It's just not my style," I comment.
"Wear it anyway," He commands, passing me to the bed where his phone lies, "we don't have time to get another. The picnic starts in ten and you aren't dressed or ready whatsoever." He becomes preoccupied with his phone screen, fingers flying quickly over the keyboard.
I huff out an annoyed sigh and take the dress off the hanger. I enter into the restroom and quickly change into the offensive garment. Pulling my hair into a casual bun and applying a light layer of makeup, I exit the restroom and slide on a pair of black calf-boots.
"Ready," I open my hands and allow them to fall and smack against my thighs. Jaxon barely spares me a glance before sliding his phone into his pocket and turning and exiting the room.
"Okay, then," I mumble, slowly trailing after him to the front door.
One of the pack vehicles is waiting for us outside and I smoothly slide into the backseat while Jaxon sits in the front with Grant. They speak in low, hushed tones and I roll my eyes. Cool, leave your Luna out— as always.
