Benedict hesitated, sensing the storm brewing, but pressed on with the report. He detailed the morning patrols, the rogue sightings near the border, and upcoming negotiations with neighboring packs. Yet Klaus’s mind seemed miles away, his fingers drumming impatiently on the desk.
"What was he waiting for?" I thought bitterly. "Was he waiting for me to give in like I always did after our fights? Was he expecting me to call, to make the first move again?"
But this time was different. I wasn't coming back.
At noon, Klaus abruptly slammed his hand on the desk. “Benedict, where’s lunch?”
Benedict blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Lunch, sir? We…we haven’t arranged for anything.”
Klaus’s eyes flashed, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Why the hell not?”
The man looked confused. “You never asked for anyone to take care of your lunch, Klaus. Mavis—well, she usually handled it herself. Omegas used to deliver it.”