"Are you annoyed?" Kasteil asked when we got in the car.
"No I am not," I replied, turning my face toward the window before he could read the truth on it.
Outside, the night stretched quietly along the road. Streetlights slid across the glass like slow-moving stars, and the reflection staring back at me looked colder than I felt inside. My jaw was tight, my shoulders stiff, and even I could tell I was lying.
But I didn't want to talk. I was really annoyed at the way he had spoken earlier. Stop imagining the worst he said. Imagining? I was imagining? Did he think I wanted them to get a divorce? Was it his friend that had come to him crying? And somehow I was imagining it? Guess Jamie and Soren were right all alphas were actually the same.
The car filled with silence after that. A heavy kind of silence that made every small sound noticeable—the hum of the engine, the faint crunch of tires against the road, even the steady rhythm of Kasteil's breathing beside me.
