The Offering

by Rosary Deville

  He brushed my hair, straightening down the curls.

  “How the hell do you know how to do this anyway? You’ve got straight hair.”

  He chuckled. “It’s not hard when you know what you’re looking for.” He succeeded in straightening my hair and parted it in the middle, using styling gel and then spraying it in place.

  “Can’t I just put on a little eyeliner?”

  Don raised a brow. “What do you think I’m going to say to that?”

  “That you’ll let me!” He smirked at my enthusiasm, then shook his head. What the heck did stupid Don know anyway? Shamar once said my eyes were one of my best features, and the liner made them stand out. He also liked the warm brown hue in the center that haloed my irises, said it made them visible in the otherwise jet-black color. Unlike Don the grumpy asshole, Shamar had great fashion. “This isn’t me, you know?” He didn’t know. And he didn’t seem to care. “I hate alphas.”

  “Oh, really?” He concentrated on my hair. “Anything you do like?”

  “Not you, that’s for sure, rapist.”

  “All right, now you’re presentable.”

  I went to grab my lip piercing from its case in the bathroom.

  “Nope, not wearing that either. Geez, Fern, don’t be such a pain.”

  “No one’s forcing you to keep me. Why not return me if I’m so annoying?”

  “Just come on.” He went to take my hand, but I snatched it away.

  “I can walk just fine.”

  “’Course you can. But know this, if you act like a little brat, I will punish you, and you won’t like it.”

  Simply saying that made me want to rebel if nothing else but for that reason alone.

  He locked up, leaving small lights on, so the entirety of the living room, complete with the wide oak that split through the middle, and the complimenting white couch and rug, stood out in the large glass windows. It wasn’t a very private house, that was for sure. Thankfully, he lived in a wooded area, and there was a long driveway before we came across other houses.

  I didn’t talk to him the entire ride there. Looking out the window, I watched the dense trees, and the houses dispersed around them, with some growing through them like ours. Wereduin liked to live surrounded by forests. Open spaces unsettled most of us.

  Finally, we arrived at the Grand Hotel. It was the largest hotel in the city and a symbol of Highborne influence in society. The building looked like a green screw made of glass. It spiraled around a sequoia-oak, with the bulk of it housed inside the trunk. It didn’t kill the tree, thanks to wereduin architects who knew what they were doing.

  I hated it and immediately wished I was in The Crone’s Head, an emo-metalhead club where my friends and I hung out.

  The valet out front parked the car, allowing Don and I to go inside. The velvety carpeted walkway steps gently spiraled around the base of the trunk and into the main lobby.

  Don took my arm and put it through his. Grumbling, I wanted to throw him off, but stepping inside got me a bit distracted. The hotel had a wide-open lobby with crystal chandeliers and golden stairs. It was decked out for the occasion. The attendants at the lobby were quick to bow to us and directed us up the stairs to the party. My arm was still in Don’s when he placed his other hand on top of mine, trapping me in place. Rolling my eyes, I let him lead me around.

  Even though there were wereduins I had seen at countless holiday parties and get-togethers when I was growing up, there were still so many I didn’t know.

  A distinguished older wereduin called Don over. He looked like he bathed in ules. His suit alone had to cost a normal wolf’s annual salary. He could have been my grandpa given his age and his gray and white facial fur. His beta, an attractive female, looked like she’d been with him for a while. She stood at his side, decked in jewels and splendor, greeting other wereduins politely.

  “Ah, Donovan. It’s great to see you again.” The older wereduin shook Don’s hand. My eyes were drawn to the salt-and-pepper color of his body fur on the back of his hand. His deep, furrowed brow made him look stern even when he smiled. A white scar ran through his eye. Although he was an older gentleman, he was seasoned in fighting with the marks to show it.

  “It has been far too long, Lord Kenneally.” Don then turned to me. “I’d like to introduce you to my mate, Fern.”

  “Ah, it is very nice to see you again, Fern.” He adjusted his black top hat, revealing the peaks of his pointy ears and the ends of his thick mane, also salt-and-pepper in color. He looked as arrogant as Don. I immediately disliked him.

  “We’ve met before?” I might have said that impolitely because Don squeezed my hand.

  “Why, of course, your mother is not only legendary but quite the host. You were a pup then. I imagine you would not remember it.” He stroked his goatee as his eyes traveled my body, taking me in. Beneath his mustache, his lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “I see you’ve grown into a fine beta.” There was something off-putting about how he looked at me, like a customer examining wares in a shop.

  I nodded, not knowing how to reply. Don squeezed my hand again. “Thanks,” I said, taking Don’s hint. It seemed weird to me how only a few months ago, I was a pup, and one birthday suddenly changed everything.

  “I’d heard Pirkko’s beta pup had come of age.” He tipped my chin up. With a firm grip and weather-worn fingers, he made me look in either direction. I felt like a prized pig. I bunched my fist, not held by Don. “Yes, quite a fine beta, indeed. Pirkko did not undersell you. You chose well Donovan.” I glanced at Don. It was strange that Don let Kenneally touch me. I thought he would tear him up for sure.

  When Lord Kenneally released me, I took a half step back. I hadn’t realized I’d stepped behind Don until he put his arm around me. Kenneally gave me a thin, belittling smile. I bristled. I didn’t want to appear weak around that asshole. Don’s scent soothed me. I couldn’t believe Kenneally unsettled me enough that I sought out Don’s comfort. Worse yet, how natural it felt to rely on him. What the hell was wrong with me?

  “He looks quite fond of you.” Fucking asshole talking about me as if I wasn’t even there.

  “Thank you, I am quite fond of him.” I expected Don to sound threatening, but he was still the gentleman he’d been since we arrived. Perhaps I was overthinking this, but Don acted more arrogant than normal. Sounding like the pompous Highborne he was, standing around talking about me as if I wasn’t present. Asshole.

  “He’s okay.” Both looked surprised when I responded. The disapproval on Don’s face was obvious. Fuck him. That was what he got for disregarding me like that.

  Kenneally’s furrowed brows managed to narrow even farther. Not taking his eyes off me, he addressed Don. When he spoke, his voice remained the posh tone of a gentleman. “He’s quite untamed, Donovan. I hope you can handle him.”

  “Never been one to want it easy.” Smirking, Don stuck out his chest, tilting his chin up.

  Lord Kenneally’s eyes found the shiny bite marks between my shoulders and neck. Immediately, I wanted to cover up. He made me feel even more vulnerable. “It’s nice to see your family’s emblem strong and proud.” Bitemarks had a similar look across families, hence why the bus driver allowed me to pay the fare when I went to Shamar’s that time. Don marking me wasn’t just an indication that I belonged to him, but to his family, as well.

  For a moment, Lord Kenneally looked so pleased I feared he might try to touch my bitemarks, but he didn’t. Perhaps that would be crossing the line. What would Don have done if he had? I was curious, but I didn’t like the idea of some stranger touching me. Inwardly, I growled. Since when did Don stop being a stranger?

  Don didn’t seem on edge at all, nor did he cover me. Instead, he showed off my bare shoulders—his marks red and ugly against my pale skin. I wondered if Kenneally knew Don was flaunting. And if he did, was he bothered?

  They talked about boring things and paid little attention to me. At least they no longer talked about me like I wasn
’t right beside them.

  “Come, I want to introduce you.” Kenneally directed Don toward other stuffy looking Wereduins, all looking pompous, rich, and annoying.

  Don was the perfect gentlemen throughout the night, politely shaking hands, choosing the right dinner conversations. It made me sick, but also made me curious. Don was nothing but a bully in my eyes. He didn’t dress poorly by any means, but seeing him in such a fancy suit, speaking with important wereduins, and not looking out of place, was new to me. He treated me like an adult, not his child or his burden. I was his mate.

  Don had been right about his clothing choice for me. All the other betas were dressed in their best. I didn’t look out of place at all. In fact, wereduins kept complimenting me, or rather complimenting Don on my behalf. And that jerk was looking even smugger.

  There were many pairings. That trio was there, the two alpha males and their female beta. She had another shiny mark on the other side of her neck, in the valley between her shoulders—the same place Don had bitten me. Her bite marks were doubled, one over the other. Both alphas had bitten her. She followed behind one of them, hugging onto his arm, her face wistful. Her other alpha’s hand rested on the small of her back. Both alphas were engaged in conversation, laughing about something I couldn’t hear. Now in the light, they looked strikingly similar enough to be twins. That would explain why they shared a beta. Twins in our culture were special and always kept together.

  Then I saw a muzzled beta. His alpha had also collared him. His bite mark, especially the one on the opposite shoulder, was shiny and off and a bit glossy as well. Wait a minute? He wasn’t one of those reclaimed betas, was he? Upon closer look, that appeared to be the case.

  The alpha who had claimed him in the Hunt must have lost him to another. I wondered what had happened to him. I had seen the molebats get one alpha. How many others had they gotten? Had the beta’s alpha shared that same fate? Or maybe he had let him go? There was the third option, and that was the new alpha challenged the last one and won.

  Don’s hand rested on my ass for a moment and brought my attention back to him. Then he took my hand, intertwining our fingers. For a moment, my senses thought of nothing but him. It made me lightheaded. I mentally kicked myself. I didn’t want to get wobbly-legged for an asshole like Don.

  The celebration was the opposite of the rest of the Offering events. Here, wereduins wore suits and dresses and ate off of refined porcelain plates and drank expensive tea. There was no sign that nights before, some of them had thrown children to monsters to be devoured. My thoughts returned to poor Myrtle. Was her asshole alpha here? Papa had told me he was a Highborne, too. I wanted to track down that bastard and kill him myself, alpha or not.

  Instead, I let Don lead me around. He opened doors for me and even pulled out my chair. I sat at the table and ate the fancy foods I grew up with on special occasions. But this time, I wasn’t as hungry. I should have felt comfortable because I had been around parties like this my whole life, but I didn’t.

  Afterward, Don introduced me to yet more wereduins. An older female alpha introduced Don to three ancient-looking Highborne werewolves, and they all ogled over me like I was choice meat. I forgot all their names the moment I heard them. Through all this, however, Don kept me close. Sometimes he would lead me by a hand on the small of my back. Other times his hand found mine, but he never left my side the entire night. Of all the wereduins I met there, Lord Kenneally was the most unsettling.

  When we finally got home, I was exhausted after all the pomp and wanted to laze on the couch and binge on a series or maybe stream some movies. Shamar said Fadeaway Tomb 2 was an even better movie than the first one. Since the producers had gotten Maggot Lore to return, odds were good that Shamar was right. All of Maggot Lore’s movies were awesome. He was one of my favorite zombie actors—he kicked ass in horror films.

  I changed into some sweats and my Fangorre tee before I collapsed onto the couch. Don came out of the bedroom. He no longer wore a suit, but a gray tank top and jeans. His broad shoulders and muscular chest looked sturdy and a little sexy.

  Stop thinking that way about stupid Don! There’s no way I’m accepting that arrogant jerk as my alpha.

  “We’re going out.”

  I had just flipped on the TV. “What?”

  “I gotta take care of a few things.”

  “Uh, okay, have fun.”

  “You’re coming too.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because it’s dark out, and I don’t want you to get hurt stupidly trying to run away again.”

  “Who said I’ll run away?”

  “I do.” Don put on his shoes. “I’ll barely be down the street before you’ll be out the door. Besides…” He looked over to me and smiled, catching me off guard. “I wanna take you somewhere.”

  “Somewhere?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m tired, though.” I was also curious.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Then why go out?”

  Don rolled his shoulders before popping his neck from side to side. “Let’s just say everyone has their own way of letting off steam.” His smile was in his voice.

  That made me more curious, so I got up and went to put on my shoes.

  Instead of taking his car, we used public transportation into the city. The subway was quieter at this hour. I was about to ask Don where the heck we were going, but his cell rang.

  “All right, we’re almost there,” he said into the phone, quirking his lips in a half-smile. “So, you can bitch to me in person.” When we came to our destination, he tugged my elbow to get me to follow. We walked a few blocks to a rundown, dark alley that slowly descended into the city’s underbelly.

  “The Underbelly?”

  Don smirked at the fear behind my tone. “You’re not scared, are you?”

  I puffed out my chest. “Yeah, right.”

  The Underbelly lay below the city. It was made up of drainage tunnels, sewers, and other underground rivers and caverns. We walked through a large drainage sewer, avoiding the stream of water winding through the center. I stayed on the stone ledge, hugging close to the stone walls. The air was damp, and the smell was just as bad as one would expect. Finally, the tunnel opened into a medium-sized cavern. A dock spread across the two banks separated by a subterranean river—sludge and grime from the sewer streams ran into it. The river itself ran in either direction.

  Longboats were docked. They resembled those the God Arawn’s servants used to ferry the damned souls into the Shadows. Toward the end of the dock on the other side of the river was a dilapidated inn. Tunnels surrounded it, venturing farther into the Underbelly. This was definitely a black-market port. All sorts of illegal wares were sold there. Not to mention events that went below the radar of our society. Street peddlers occupied different corners. It probably had illegal fighting, gambling, and even drug trafficking as well. Representatives of various races were all around us.

  Several wereduins and trolls loaded things on and off boats while two goblins had digital rosters in hand. One argued with a boat captain. The tall human towered over the goblin, who didn’t seem intimidated in the least. They were too far away to hear what they said. Three zombies passed me. Two rolled a large cage containing several barely dressed humans. A large werewolf stalked beside them, seemingly serving as the zombies’ bodyguard.

  My stomach sickened. I wondered if this was how the zombies procured human flesh. Normally, human flesh wasn’t sold but won over by zombies from battles with humans—not this. It served as a grim reminder that I was with society’s lowlifes.

  What the heck did Don even want with a place like this? He was a Highborne, correct? What business did he have in the Underbelly?

  We entered the inn. It wasn’t large, but standard size and very rundown.

  A few hags were at the tables trying to sell their wares. One called out to Don.

  “Lo there, handsome. Fer dat ponytail a urs, I’ll give yeh good fort
une.”

  He flashed her cold eyes and didn’t stop. He guided us down into the cellar. Inside was a boxing ring, and bets were being taken. At the center of the ring, a troll with a crooked nose and large tusks fought against a wereduin in full werewolf form. Its massive size dwarfed the troll. Blood spattered all over the mat.

  “W-What are we doing here?”

  “Ah, the rat lives!” A gnarly old werewolf slapped Don’s back in a friendly gesture. “Thought yah might be dead.”

  “Mites,” Don greeted him like they were old friends. “Promise is a promise. Besides,” Don smiled, “last I recall, someone owed me a drink.”

  “And you owe me a win!” Mites’s grin revealed two chipped fangs. He didn’t even bother to leave werewolf form, nor did he cover himself with clothing. Thankfully, his thick, matted fur hid his crotch.

  “Well, then lucky for you, I lived through the night, and you can get your money back.”

  “Money back? Win?” I tugged Don’s arm. “What are you talking about?”

  Don didn’t get a chance to answer me before two more wereduins greeted him in the same manner. These two looked around his age, maybe a bit older. One was a large beast of a wolf. The other was smaller than Don. That was when I noticed the smaller of the two carried a chain. Behind him was a beta, her eyes covered with a blindfold. Bruises covered her cheeks and arms. She wore next to nothing, so it was easy to see where she was hurt. Was she a slave beta? Anger ran through my veins. Who the hell were these assholes?

  “Brawny,” Don nodded to him. Brawny tugged the beta against his leg, using the chain to yank her. “Looks like Mites smelled a rat after all.” They broke into conversation. It didn’t seem like Don was bothered in the least that Brawny dragged around a battered beta.

  Don was different here. More untamed. Nothing like the gentlemen he had been inside the celebration ball. So far, I had seen three different sides to Don. The pervert, the gentleman, and the ruffian. Brawny turned his eyes on me.

  “Oh? Snagged yourself a cutie?” Brawny’s hungry leer revealed his jagged fangs. His yellow eyes matched the color of his spiky hair that went past his pointed ears.