Chapter Thirteen: Adara

We settled into overstuffed chintz chairs in the salon at Mon Repos. A servant brought some fine oolong with a plate of tea cookies on a silver tray.

Dane poured the tea into such exquisite porcelain cups that I was embarrassed at what Mother called “our best China.”

Expecting the best after the exchange outside about poison gardens, Fawna and I tried to engage our host in conversation—and failed miserably. As during the walk, he met every question with a grunt or “hmm” or “uh-huh” or, at best, a one-word answer.

His tone seemed embarrassed, but I decided he must be motivated by arrogance.

Why would a man of his stature—and an Alpha, to boot—be embarrassed about talking to two lowly sisters such as us?

Fawna and I exchanged glances of frustration. I wondered how he could be so congenial one minute and then haughty, rude, and incommunicative the next.

Was this some Lupine trait I’d never heard of?

I dismissed that idea. My parents were both Lupine, and neither was so taciturn. In