"Greyson," Kirstie said as he and Indianna walked into her classroom. "Glad you could finally grace me with your presence."
"Don't expect it to become a regular occurrence," he shrugged.
Kirstie rolled her eyes.
"Feeling better, Indianna?" she asked with a smirk.
Indianna pursed her lips, ignoring Kirstie's smug expression.
"Amazing," she replied sarcastically.
Greyson chuckled as he led Indianna to the back of the classroom.
"Have you spoken to your mother?" he asked once they sat down.
Indianna tensed and narrowed her eyes.
"No."
"Indie, you need to talk to her."
"She raised me for sixteen years and never once mentioned that my father was murdered by freaking werewolves!" Indianna hissed. "I don't need to do anything that involves her."
"She's your mother."
"You say that like it's supposed to mean something," she muttered. "Drop it, Greyson."
"No."
Greyson looked at her seriously.
"I'm not saying you have to become best friends, but you need to give her a chance to explain herself."
"She had sixteen years to tell me about werewolves and all this other shit. She's had more than enough chances."
"I don't agree with her keeping it from you, but she probably had her reasons," Greyson said. "She was probably scared. Rogues are ruthless."
"Rogues?" Indianna frowned. "What are they again?"
"Werewolves that have been kicked out of their packs. They're savage and have no humanity left. They kill for fun, and no one can control them. That's why packs have so much protection."
"And rogues killed my father," Indianna whispered. "They're here... in this town."
"You're protected here, sugar." Greyson frowned. "I won't let anyone hurt you. My pack is one of the strongest in the world. Rogue slipped through once—it won't happen again."
"Rogue," Indianna repeated, frowning. "You said that like it was the wolf's name."
Greyson cursed under his breath and clenched his jaw.
He'd slipped up.
"Forget about it, Indie. You're safe."
"Greyson... you know who that rogue is, don't you?"
"No," he shrugged. "It's just a rogue."
"You called it Rogue, not a rogue."
"I just fumbled my words."
"Greyson—"
"Leave it, sugar!" Greyson snapped. "Drop the subject!"
"You can't just—"
"I'm not going to repeat myself, Indie," Greyson warned, his voice low. "Drop the fucking subject."
Indianna glared at him.
Before she could argue again, Kirstie's voice cut through the classroom.
"Alright, class! Shut the hell up and open your books to page eighty-three!"
"I'll find out," Indianna whispered.
Greyson's hands curled into fists.
"There's nothing to fucking find out."
For a brief second, the room fell silent between them.
Indianna couldn't explain it, but something about the bond tugged at her chest. She watched Greyson stare straight ahead, his jaw tight and his shoulders rigid. He looked angry...
But beneath the anger, she sensed something else.
Something darker.
Something he was trying desperately to hide.
It lasted only a heartbeat before his expression returned to its usual cold, unreadable mask.
Whatever Rogue was...
Greyson knew far more than he was willing to admit.