“Masen, these guys are probably missing dinner right now to come fix this.” I gesture to the door. “There’s plenty. Stop grumbling and let them eat if they want to. If you share, I’ll make you dessert,” I singsong with a big smile. “I know how much you like dessert.”

He looks at me but speaks to the men. “Eat the food after you fix the door.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Pack a bag. I want my dessert at home,” he commands.

I pack without a fight. I know things are moving fast, but I also know that had yesterday been our first meeting, without the history of him leaving me, we’d both be Marked by now. I grab enough clothes to last a few days. I also pack a small bag of toiletries, my Kindle, and my school bag to do my homework. “I think I’m good,” I say when I walk back to the kitchen.

He’s standing staring down the guys trying to fix the door. They seem to be working as fast as possible, not even looking up. What did I miss? Now, just his body language is saying danger. His face is set in a hard, unreadable mask as he stands back watching them.

“Masen?” I ask, the question clear in my voice. “Everything okay?”

His body is coiled tight, I think if either shifter were to look up he would attack. Something is very wrong here. He hasn’t answered yet. I reach over and stroke his inner arm, and his elbows bend automatically to hold up my hand. He seems to relax infinitesimally, but his voice comes out a low growl. “Get it done, and get out!” The men seem to cower at his tone. Turning us, he gathers my things and walks out.

Masen walks to a black SUV and opens the passenger side door waiting for me to get in. After I sit, he reaches out with his free hand to grab the seatbelt. “I can do that,” I try as he snaps it into place then closes my door without a word. Opening the rear door, he puts my bags in and slams the hatch closed. By the time he’s in and has started the truck, he still hasn’t spoken, his heavy hands clench the steering wheel as he pulls out.

We drive for about ten minutes when I finally ask, “Are you mad at me?”

He stares ahead, and when he does answer, I’m a little surprised. “Yes, I’m very angry. I told you I’m struggling with you being around other men when you are unmarked, and you keep feeding them. I wanted to rip out their throats because you didn’t want them to miss dinner.” His voice rising with every word. He’s breathing heavy, knuckles white on the wheel.

“Then, you tell me to let them eat, and I listen! If they think about it and realize how strange that is, they might talk to others. I don’t want people looking too closely at you right now or me for that matter. If I’m seen as weak, even when it comes to you, it could threaten my pack. If I were to be challenged now, they could try and take everything that’s mine, you included. I’m still not sure what we’re dealing with as far as your differences go.” His voice is much calmer now, relaxing as he gets further from them or closer to home I’m not sure. “When we are with others, Little One, try and remember I am the Alpha,” he adds, finally looking over at me. His strong jaw still tense, but his eyes are much softer.