Both women yipped when Grant suddenly appeared behind Leo with one hand propped against the truck roof.
She swatted at her brother and sidled around him. “You’re such a turd. Go away.”
Leo might have moved, but Grant kept his position at the back.
He was looking at Kinzy, or the seat, or Angel couldn’t tell what exactly, only that his gaze was down, and then suddenly it wasn’t, and Angel couldn’t look away.
His eyes were the color of leaves frosted with ice—green with silver streaks, or maybe the other way around. His pupils were large in the dim light.
Adam’s apple bobbing.
Leo reached back from the front seat and popped him on the nose with a rolled-up magazine. “Close the door. You’re letting the cold in.”
The abuse from his sister didn’t compel him to move, nor did the rumble of the truck’s engine when Arnold turned the key.
He was very still, and Angel knew because she couldn’t stop looking back. She didn’t understand what he was looking at, but some silly part of her brain thought maybe if she stared back long enough, she’d figure him out.
“Ugh, fine,” Leo said. “We’ll come back in the morning.”
Finally, he looked away. “What time?”
His voice was practically a growl, rumbling and impatient.
“I dunno,” Leo said blithely. “Maybe eight or nine. After breakfast.”
“Uh, no. Not unless you plan on feeding us. Personally, I don’t think you’re either equipped or talented enough.”
Grant just stared at her.
“Ma will be here after breakfast to watch Pete.”
“You’re working on Christmas?” Angel asked before she could recognize that her lips were moving. She pressed them together and locked her gaze on her knees.
“Gotta get the hay out,” he said. “Cows don’t care about holidays.”
“Oh. I guess that was a stupid question.”
“Nah, you can’t know what you don’t know, right?”
“Guess not,” she whispered. Her old alpha would have expected omniscience. She was slowly getting used to the more “mundane” requirements of her at Norseton.
“So you want us to come before Mama gets here?” Leo asked. “Why?”
“Because every damn day, she acts like she hasn’t seen me in a year, and wants to talk. If you’re here to distract her—”
“You’ll actually get outside on time,” Arnold said.
Grant grimaced. “Probably shitty of me to sound so ungrateful, given how much she helps out, but—”
“Yeah.” Leo sighed. “At least you were spared most of the chatter growing up. The girls got to hear it all.”
“What do you mean?” Angel asked.
“Oh, you know how it goes for women in wolfpacks. Be seen and not heard, and be seen as little as possible, at that. Mama always taught us girls to talk amongst ourselves and to zip our lips when we left the house.” Leo turned her head and muttered, “That’s why we all talk so much now.”
“And now, there’s a new alpha, so…the old rules don’t apply?”
“Sweetie, I don’t even know what the rules are anymore.”
“That makes two of us.”
Angel is exclusive to our Christmas anthology, Bundle of Joy.