I could visualize how his muscles flexed as he descended the stairs.

His tattoos peeked out in the corners of his hoodie. Each drawing craved into the skin must have been torture since the only way werewolves were to have tattoos was to use wolf bane to prevent us from healing.

However, each ink had a message and a deep one that only he knew.

His sharp eyes met mine briefly, still looking as cold as ever.

And then I remembered...

He's still a jackass.

And he always will be.

I met his stare head-on, showing him he didn't bother me.

Not one little bit.

If he wanted to be that way, then OK.

Two can play that game.

When he reached the bottom of the steps, he stood before me, possibly trying to speak with me, but I didn't have any of it.

Instead, I turned on my heel and headed to the dinner table, grabbing a plate and filling it with food.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least, especially when there were two Alphas at the table, and there was high tension between them.

And then the unthinkable happened.

His pack members started talking shit about my pack members and my pack house. As they began to laugh about it, he said nothing.

Of course, a powerful pack would talk badly about other packs.

They always think they're high and mighty!

I stayed silent, hoping they would stop, but they didn't. Each comment kept getting worse. It even made one of my pack members excuse themselves to the kitchen.

Eventually, it touched my last nerve when they started joking about the deaths of my mother and father.

A vein popped as the chair screeched behind me. My hands slammed down onto the table, causing dents in it.

My fangs flashed as I hissed out, "Your asses must be pretty envious from all that shit that comes out of your mouths."

His pack members, who were gossiping, tried to retaliate, but I interrupted them.

"You think you know shit, but let me give you a history lesson. You don't know anything until you have evidence. What you said just proved how ignorant you jackasses are."

I was heaving by that point, but to finish things off, I spat out, "I can't help but imagine how awesome the world would be if your dad pulled out. Doesn't feel so good now, does it?"

The table became even more silent when he stood up and glared at me.

"You had no right to say that, Reed."

I've officially lost my shit because the next thing I knew, I leaped over the dining table and punched the furniture that was next to his face.