by Peyton Bogue
Sage gives him a nod, reaching forward and grabbing his glass when the bartender sits it in front of him. Sage doesn’t actually plan on drinking it, but it will keep his hands busy as he to hide his anxiousness. He doesn’t want to show Steele how nervous he is. “Steele,” he says in greeting.
“I don’t seem to remember your invitation,” Steele says, smirking. “How did you get in, exactly?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Sage replies, watching the dark liquid slosh around in his glass. “My name was on the guest list.”
“Of course, it was. You’re a little shit, Kaelan. I’ll give you that,” Steele chuckles. “Salud,” he says, then takes a sip of his beer.
Sage brings the whiskey glass up to his lips, tilting the glass back to imitate taking a drink of it. Steele watches him over the lip of his beer.
If Sage didn’t know that a werewolf’s enhanced metabolism didn’t allow for them to become intoxicated from alcohol, he might think that Steele was trying to pass himself off as slightly buzzed. His body language is relaxed yet closed off as he leans against the bar, completely content to sit on his stool and eye the crowd. To anyone else who might briefly glance at him, Steele looks like just another lackey steadily working his way towards becoming intoxicated. It might have worked on Sage, too, if he hadn’t known for years that alcohol has no affect on a werewolf, or if he couldn’t see the calculating glint shining brightly in Steele’s muddy brown eyes.
“Are you here to arrest my boss?” Steele asks once Sage sets his whiskey glass back down, his smirk widening. “Because if so, I’m obligated to inform the security working here. It might be fun to watch them kick you out.”
“I’m just here to appreciate the artwork, Steele, even if they are twenty-first century knock-offs,” Sage replies.
“You’re such a liar, Cap,” Steele says, scoffing. “You always did have quite the mouth on you.”
Sage clenches his jaw. Steele is trying to knock him off his game by mocking him, but Sage knows how Steele operates. He knows how to get him talking.
“You caught me, Steele. Nothing gets past you, does it? I don’t remember you having this much tact when we were overseas.”
Steele’s eyes narrow predictably. “All I want is for you to be honest with me, Kaelan. Do you really think that every security guard here hasn’t been briefed about the 88th Precinct's vendetta against Kharkovy? All it would take is one word to them about you being here for them to kick you out on your ass. I think we’re well past arguing about tact, don’t you?”
“Does that normally work for you?” Sage asks him, arching his eyebrow questioningly. “That kind of deflection?”
“Hmm,” Steele says indulgently before he grins. “I’m not sure. What exactly do you think I’m deflecting?”
“I thought we were being honest with each other, Steele,” Sage chuckles mockingly. “We both know what kind of beast you’ve got lurking underneath that grin.”
Steele’s smile turns feral. “So, you finally figured out who I am then, huh?”
“Why don’t you and I go and talk somewhere more,” Sage scans his eyes around the room mockingly, “private?” he asks.
Steele looks at him cockily before he nods acceptingly, tilting his beer back and downing it. He sets the empty bottle on top of the counter, giving Sage another smirk. He leans in close to Sage’s ear, and Sage unintentionally stiffens when Steele is only a few inches away from him. Steele chuckles deeply. “If you try anything,” he starts, his voice low and threatening, “I’ll kill everyone here, and then I’ll kill you. And believe me, I’ve been itching to rip someone’s throat out all night.”
Sage’s blood runs cold, and he quickly darts his eyes around the room in slight panic. His eyes automatically find Rhys from where he’s leaning against another alcove off the left side of the bar. Rhys is already looking at him, his lips curled into a snarl and his eyes so dark they look almost black in the low light of the chandeliers. He starts to move, but Sage shakes his head abruptly and Rhys stops, his face pulled into a menacing scowl.
Steele has never been outright violent, but now he’s issued a direct threat. Sage knows that it’s most likely taking all of Rhys’s strength and control to hold himself back right now. If Rhys thinks that there is a chance that Steele will act on his threat to hurt Sage, he’s going to lose it and start to shift. They’re in public, where anyone could see him. Rhys could potentially expose himself if they don’t get Steele to back down, and that cannot happen.
Sage needs to get Steele out of Rhys’s territory right now.
Sage turns back to Steele and gives him a grin even though Steele can most likely tell that his threat has made Sage panic, and says slowly, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Steele. No one needs to get hurt here.”
Steele leans away from him, chuckling sardonically, and pats Sage’s shoulder harshly enough to bruise. Sage tries not to show how much the touch hurts him, just for Rhys’s sake.
Steele grabs Sage’s whiskey glass, then gestures for him to lead them to wherever Sage intends for them to talk. Sage glances at Rhys again, whose eyes are tracking Steele disdainfully, before he pushes himself off of the bar and starts walking around the crowd towards the stairs to the second level.
There aren’t any security guards at the entrance of the stairs, just a flimsy sign on a silver rope that asks guests not to enter, and Sage steps over the rope easily to begin ascending the steps. Steele follows behind him, and Sage can feel his eyes at the back of his head, his salacious stare unwavering. Sage tries not to let Steele see his discomfort as they reach the top of the stairs, but he knows his heart is racing.
The second level of the art gallery is a stark contrast to the level below it. There aren’t any decorations or framed artworks on the brick walls. There are sheets covering almost everything in the room, and a wall of mirrors lines the backside of the brick when Sage walks past it. All of the remaining artwork not on display downstairs is piled in the corner of the loft, and Sage eyes the paintings confusedly. The staff are going to have a great time hanging all of the artwork back up when the benefit downstairs is over.
“You’re nervous,” Steele says directly behind him, and Sage startles abruptly, having not realized that Steele had gotten that close to him. “I can smell it all over you.”
Werewolf, Sage reminds himself as he turns around. He’ll know if you lie.
“I’m not nervous,” Sage says, despite his heartbeat accelerating. “I just don’t really want to be alone with you.”
“Are you afraid that I’ll do something to you?” Steele asks, setting Sage's whiskey glass down on a nearby sheet-covered portrait. He reaches behind his head, and his mask falls off of his face a second later. He looks even more dangerous now that his muddy brown eyes are fully bare.
“No,” Sage replies, moving to take his own mask off. “If you’re here with me, you won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”
Steele laughs bitterly, and he takes a step forward, reaching his hand out to grab the whiskey. “That’s bold of you to assume that I won’t hurt you.”
“You’ve got nothing to gain from doing that,” Sage dismisses him even though a cold sweat begins to break out over the back of his neck. “That’s not the smartest option.”
“Oh, tell me, Cap, ” Steele says, grinning his nasty grin. “What is the smartest option?”
“Leaving this territory,” Sage says, crossing his arms. “Before you end up getting yourself killed.”
Steele tips his head back and laughs loudly despite knowing that the remaining guests downstairs are only a few feet away from them, and the sound of it chills Sage to the bone.
“Why, exactly, would I leave? I rather like seeing you and your friends squirm.”
“How maudlin of you, Steele,” Sage says, chuckling to try to shake off his discomfort. “Are you really trying to tell me that you think we’re scared of you?”
Within seconds, Steele is on him, harshly pushing Sage up against
the brick wall with a hand around Sage’s throat. Sage’s head smacks hard against the brick, and he can’t help but gasp confoundedly at the sting that erupts over the back of his skull. He’s so shocked for a second that he doesn’t realize what’s happened. Steele snarls at him, and when Sage looks down, his eyes are glowing a bright electric blue. Sage is so used to seeing Rhys’s Alpha red eyes that he doesn’t realize that he’s looking at Steele’s werewolf eyes for a second.
“If you’re not scared yet,” Steele growls, and the lack of practiced ease to it doesn’t compare to Rhys’s at all, but the sound of it still makes Sage's heart plummet in his chest as Steele continues, “you should be.”
The hand around his throat tightens, and Sage gasps under the strain. It hits him, for the first time, that he’s actually arguing with an omega werewolf, who is a hundred times stronger than he is.
“Call your guard dog off,” Steele snarls as his hand digs into the sides of Sage’s throat. Sage scowls at him, but Steele growls menacingly, “Call him off.”
“I’m fine, Rhys,” Sage says, even though his voice is strained. “I can take it.”
After another moment, Steele releases him, and Sage falls to the floor, gasping. Clearly, even though Steele might not have known that Rhys was at the ball before, he does now. They’re far enough away from the music and the noise of the crowd that Steele is able to either sense that an Alpha is close to him, or he can hear Rhys’s heartbeat.
Sage’s blood runs cold again.
“Now, that’s more like it,” Steele says, taking another sip of the whiskey Sage hadn’t even seen him put down. He smacks his lips, grinning at Sage as he effortlessly shifts his eyes back to his muddy brown. “I have to admit that I’m a tad disappointed, Kaelan. I expected more of a fight from you.”
“Yeah, well,” Sage says, loosening his tie to gulp in more air as he huffs, “you caught me off guard.”
Steele laughs at that, a genuine chuckle. “You never did know when to quit, did you?”
“Listen to me,” Sage says, standing up fully as he takes another deep breath. “You need to leave before you end up getting yourself hurt.”
“Hurt?” Steele repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Your little Alpha hasn’t even accepted my challenge, Kaelan. If you’re really trying to convince me that you aren't scared of me, you’re not doing a good enough job.”
“What is there to be scared of, Steele?” Sage asks. “Rhys is a lot stronger than you are. He could kill you as easily as blinking.”
Steele snarls. “Then why isn’t he here, then? Does he need you to do his bidding? Send in the human to do his dirty work?” He laughs darkly. “Maybe I’ll send you back in pieces for his efforts.”
Sage gulps. “This is his territory, Steele. He’ll never give it up to you. Trying to take it from him is not going to work. You have nothing to gain here. Leave while you still can.”
“Maybe I’ll just kill you right here,” Steele says, ignoring Sage’s warning. “That might send a better message.”
“You’re not proving how strong you are, Steele. If you kill me, he’ll kill you. You need to think smarter. Rhys will kill you if he accepts your challenge. No one needs to get hurt. No one needs to die.”
“Oh, I think killing you might be exactly what I need to do to win this territory, Cap,” Steele replies.
Sage’s heart skips a beat.
“I’ve been watching you all,” Steele continues, taking a step forward. Sage takes one back. “First, we have Hazel, the Coroner. Now, she’s got it bad for you, Cap. If only you could smell her when she gets near you.” He laughs, and Sage scowls at him. “Then we have Mikalina, your boss. She’s your friend, even if she is a hardass. Maybe I’ll kill her first,” he grins, and Sage scowls harder. “She looks like she’d be a screamer.” Sage growls at him, stepping forward, but Steele easily side steps him. “Then we have Kai. Now Kai, he’s your best friend, your brother. He’ll be next. He’ll try to be strong at first, but I bet I could get him begging me not to kill him.” Sage lunges for him again, and Steele laughs. “Then. . .Rhys,” Steele says, and Sage’s heart stops beating. “The boyfriend. The Alpha. He’s good to you, isn't he? He’s the one I’d spare. Do you want to know why?”
Sage glares at him.
“Well, I’ve been watching, right?” Steele says, shrugging his shoulders as he swirls the remnants of the whiskey in the glass. “He’s the big bad werewolf with one weakness. You should see how he acts with you. That’s a guy who would do anything for the person he’s in love with. He fucks you good, doesn’t he? Gets you begging for him.” Sage takes another step forward, but Steele still evades him, smirking. He takes another sip of the whiskey, then gives Sage a lecherous grin, saying coyly, “You sound so pretty when you’re begging for him to fuck you harder, Sage.”
Sage lunges, and this time, his fist connects with Steele’s jaw. Pain immediately erupts down Sage's wrist, and he groans sharply. Steele doesn’t even flinch as Sage completely recoils, just flashes his eyes electric blue again and, so quick that Sage doesn’t even see him, brings his hand up to Sage’s throat, digging his fingers in again as he throws the whiskey glass to the floor. The sound of breaking glass echoes off of the brick walls.
“I’d spare him,” Steele snarls at Sage, “because killing you would wreck him. It’d be easy to take this territory from an Alpha that can’t even protect his mate.”
Sage doesn’t even think before he responds. He doesn’t even process Steele’s words. He can’t breathe, but he can’t let Steele do this.
“Leave now,” Sage says roughly as he grabs at Steele’s wrist and digs his nails into Steele's tan skin. His right wrist throbs, but he pushes past the pain. “Leave this territory, or you’ll die.”
“You tell your little Alpha that if he doesn’t accept my challenge, I’ll kill everyone you care about, Kaelan. Everyone you’ve ever loved, Sage. Their deaths will be on your hands. I’ll rip them all apart,” Steele snarls, backing Sage up against the brick. His eyes are electric blue, and when Sage looks at his face, he sees that Steele has completely shifted. His canines are bared threateningly and his wolf face is pulled into a menacing scowl as he holds Sage against the wall.
“Tell him yourself,” a growl sounds next to Sage’s ear, and immediately, Steele’s grip around Sage's throat disappears. Sage falls to the floor as he coughs harshly. He feels himself heave a little as he desperately tries to take in air. He looks towards the wall of mirrors, where Rhys has Steele pinned underneath his clawed hand, completely wolfed out as his red eyes glow in the reflection.
He looks absolutely murderous.
“If you touch him again, I’ll kill you,” Rhys snarls, a low growl in his throat. His mask is off, and Sage sees him bare his teeth threateningly in the reflection of the mirror as he brings his other hand up to pry one of Steele’s hands off of his own wrist where Steele must have attempted to reach out to grab him.
For the first time, Steele actually looks slightly scared. He’s not wolfed out anymore, although his eyes are still electric blue and his canines are bared. He snaps his mouth towards Rhys, but Rhys growls again, and he cowers.
A split second later, a resounding snap echoes off of the brick, and Steele howls in pain as he completely slumps against Rhys’s hand on his throat. Rhys lifts Steele further up the mirror until Steele’s feet aren’t touching the ground anymore. Steele looks panicked, but he still growls as he refuses to meet Rhys’s eyes—to show submission—and looks over at Sage pleadingly.
“Don’t look at him,” Rhys snarls. “If you look at him again, I’ll break your other hand.”
Steele snarls, but Rhys tightens his grip around Steele's throat, and Steele howls again.
Sage coughs and wheezes, and Rhys’s eyes snap to him in the mirror’s reflection. Sage looks at him with wide eyes, rubbing at his throat with his good hand. He can’t seem to catch his breath.
“Hey,” a voice sounds up at them, and Sage darts his eyes towards th
e stairs. Both Rhys and Steele growl, but Sage doesn’t see anyone as the voice continues, “Everything okay up here?”
“Rhys,” Sage rasps, clearing his throat. “You’ve got to let him go. Someone’s coming.”
Rhys meets his eyes in the mirror again, and Sage nods at him reassuringly. Rhys growls threateningly as he turns back to Steele, leaning in close to Steele’s face. “You need to leave this territory tonight,” he says, “or I will accept your challenge, and I will win. If I see you again,” he snarls, “I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
He lets Steele go a second later, and Steele snarls at him, but disappears almost instantly. Sage has no idea where he goes, but Rhys’s gentle hands are tilting his face up before Sage can think much about it, and he relaxes into Rhys’s touch, coughing again. Rhys is completely shifted, and Sage momentarily panics as whoever is climbing up the steps reaches the top of the stairs.
“Woah, man,” Sage hears, and his eyes flicker to the stairs, where he sees Kai eyeing him with a panicked look. He doesn’t know how he didn’t recognize Kai’s voice when he’d called up to them. Sage slumps tiredly against Rhys's hands, relieved. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good,” he replies, but his voice comes out raspy and he coughs again. “I’m good,” he repeats.
“I should have ripped him off of you when he’d choked you the first time,” Rhys says, growling. “I’m so sorry.” His hands are still gentle as he tilts Sage’s face up to meet his, assessing him. Rhys's face slowly shifts back into his normal brooding scowl, but his eyes are still Alpha red, and he’s breathing heavily.
“I’m okay, Ree,” Sage assures him, sounding less raspy this time. He feels a tear run down his cheek from the aftermath of Steele's brutish assault, and Rhys wipes it away quickly.
“Holy shit,” Kai says, shaking his head. “He choked you? Jesus.” He runs a hand down his face. “So much for getting him to leave peacefully.”