The air was a kind of spring-fragranced air that grows wings on angel kind as I jogged toward the packhouse gates. I had told Luis Miguel to wait there, hoping he would be patient enough to not cause any trouble.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on me… I, Axel, son of the Alpha, rushed around like a commoner, and hoped this boy would be a good guest. I wasn't sure what to expect. But then again, I had to play nice if I wanted to keep my reputation intact.
As I approached the gates, I could already see him standing there, looking far too out of place for my liking. He was standing near the edge of the property, feet planted firmly on the dirt path, and glancing back every few moments as if he expected someone to jump out from behind a tree and whisk him away.
As soon as he spotted me, though, the expression on his face shifted from wary uncertainty to pure relief.
