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I turn to walk back out of the kitchen, but stop when she chuckles.

Spinning around, I stare at her back.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

“You,” she says, turning off the water and turning to face me. She wipes her hands on the dish rag before placing it down behind her.

“Me?” I growl, stepping toward her. “You wouldn’t think I was so funny if my wolf was ripping out your throat, leech.”

Her response is to only laugh harder. Before I can think, I am standing in front of her. My towering height causing her to look up at me. My wolf is on the surface, causing my eyes to glow. In her defense, she does not back down, but she stops laughing.

“I don’t like you, vamp.”

“So you’ve said, wolf.”

Being this close to her, I can see so much more of her face. Her skin is flawless. There is not a spot on her face. She has a light brown complexion. Her slanted eyes are the color of honey in the sunlight. A nose that is narrow and buttons at the end. Her face has a more feline-like structure with lips full and bowshaped. She’s tall for a woman, but not nearly as tall as me. But something I wasn’t expecting was her scent. Vampires will always have a bit of a metallic smell to me. That’s a universal scent. However, hidden underneath the metal smell is a soft scent of vanilla. It is such a slight scent that I’m sure most won’t catch it, but I do.

I shake my thoughts out of my head.

“Until you leave my pack, I’ll make your time here hell. Leave it to me. You’ll never get another night’s rest.”

Her brow raises. “I’m a nearly 500-year-oldblackwoman. I’ve lived long enough to experience and see more hate and torture than you’ll ever know. These little parlor tricks you and your friends are pulling are nothing to me. Your slave owning founding fathers were much more brutal.”

Being placed in the same category as slave owners rubs me wrong. Her using those racist pricks to compare our hatred toward vampires is misleading. We have reason to hate their asses.

“I’m nothing like those bastards.”

She smirks. “You think?”

A growl swells up in me and rumbles out. The urge to kill her and just apologize to Luna later takes a hold of me.

“Enzo,” Chayton’s voice cuts through the room like a whip, causing me to tamp down on my anger. “Come join me in the dining room.”

It takes all my strength to get my wolf to take a step away from the leech. Even when I do, my gaze stays on her. The calm look on her face only pisses me off further.

“Nice talking to you, Beta.”

It’s something about the way she says Beta that boils my blood. She uses it as if it’s an insult. As if I should be ashamed to be a beta.

Turning away from the vamp, I march over to Chayton.

“What the hell?” he whispers. “I thought you were going to kill her.”

I glance over my shoulder at the leech. Her back is to us as she goes back to washing dishes.

“Trust me, I wanted to.”

“What did she say?”

“Your slave owning founding fathers were much more brutal.”

My wolf nearly snarls at those words. That comparison forms rocks in my stomach. We are nothing like those people.

“Nothing special,” I say, answering Chayton.

Just then, the youngest vampire rushes into the kitchen, followed by Luna.

“Michaela, Liz just told me they have a cafeteria here that serves food. We don’t have to go grocery shopping now.”