Rogue Wolf

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Rogue Wolf Page 6

by Alexis Pierce


  Almost instantly, music pounds into my eardrums and reverberates up my feet. I nod at the cashier that Anderson promised to talk to, and she waves me in without question. I could hang out in the cold with Anderson all night, but I would probably tear the head off the first girl to flirt with him. I walk into the warehouse-turned club, and my breath is taken away.

  Despite my bravado, I’ve never actually been that interested in clubbing. I went for my twenty-first birthday, but that’s pretty much it. This is totally different from the dinky little building where I spent that night, though.

  The ceilings are vaulted and covered in intricate paintings of angels and cherubs, and the lights are made of dim orbs that seem to float down from the ceiling. I’m the first person in the building, so I go over to the bar, a stainless-steel structure topped with the palest marble I’ve ever seen. I slap down a twenty and order something to take the edge off.

  “Cosmo,” I say to the bartender, who nods and prepares the drink for me.

  “You seem more like a beer girl,” a voice says, and I turn to find a mid-height guy with a ratty, matted man-bun breathing down my back.

  I roll my eyes and down the overpriced beverage in one go. “Beer tastes like shit and has a tenth of the booze.” I set the glass back on the bar and point at it when the bartender glances at me between serving the other customers filtering in. It’s going to be impossible to get anything fairly soon, hence why I made a beeline straight for the bar.

  “I’m Matt,” Man-bun says. I down my second cosmo and move away from the soon-to-be-crowded bar. With my supernaturally quick metabolism, I won’t get much more than a buzz, but it’ll be enough to get me through the night.

  “Not interested,” I call nonchalantly as the music floats through me, my brain going just a little tingly from the alcohol. Just where I want to be.

  “Whatever,” he says, stopping before we reach the dance floor. “You’re ugly anyway.”

  I roll my eyes and keep on my way. That’s just how these kinds of guys are. Backhanded compliments, then an insult if you won’t fuck them.

  I close my eyes and do my best to ignore everyone else, my body thrumming as the music crescendos. It feels good, being here and moving for no reason other than pure enjoyment.

  “Victoria?” another voice says just as I find the rhythm. I’m the only one on the mosaic dance floor, but I follow the voice to see Thompson standing right on the edge, his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s traded his glasses for contacts, and he’s changed into a black button-up shirt. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and I don’t know if it’s the booze or the tattoos or the childhood memories, but I smile and beckon him over.

  He looks around, unsure at first, but finally comes to me. I bop to the music. I’m not the best dancer, but I can stay on beat. I toss my hair flirtatiously.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks, his dark hair a carefully constructed mess as it falls over his forehead. In the stark light of the club, his features are even sharper, his cheekbones ready to cut glass.

  I laugh. “Anderson got me in.”

  He smiles and glances at the door. Clearly, despite Anderson’s discomfort, the two of them are friends. I take Thompson’s hands and try to prompt him to dance, waving our arms around manically. For the first time since seeing him again, he laughs. His body moves to the music, and I release him from my hold.

  “What about you?” I call as the music gets even louder, golden lights shooting out from the DJ’s booth.

  He shrugs. “I’m kind of sick of shifter clubs.”

  I nod, lifting my arms over my head and letting the music take me. I tilt my chin and stare at the ceiling, where the painting seems to come alive under the thrashing lights and music.

  Thompson remains nearby but doesn’t touch me. Every time I look his way, though, his intense eyes are focused on me. Our bodies move together like he’s a moon trapped in my gravity. Every time I try to get a little closer to him, he mirrors the movement to keep his distance. We stay in this game for several songs, the air growing thick and hot with bodies churning around us.

  When I go to the restroom, he follows me into the small, closed-off hallway. We go through a door, and the deafening music grows muffled.

  “Who are you?” Thompson asks, his voice suddenly loud in the small space. I back against a wall, watching him. There’s nothing aggressive about his stance, but I’m wary anyway.

  “I told you,” I say. I don’t know what caused him to act like this all of a sudden.

  He shakes his head. “I’m not sure I believe you. It seems odd that a total stranger from a random pack would show up and take Anderson as a mate.”

  I shrug. I will not break under his stare.

  He braces his hands on either side of my shoulders, his eyes growing wild as they search my face. “Why him?” he asks. “Why did you have to take him away?”

  The wording stops me. He isn’t asking why I mated with Anderson instead of him. “You have feelings for Anderson,” I gasp. “That’s why you’re here tonight.”

  His eyes go dark, and he pulls away from me. He doesn’t deny it, though. My heart speeds up as an idea takes hold. This could work to my advantage if I play it right.

  “What if you could have him?” I ask before I have a second thought about it.

  His eyes dart up to me. Mistrust is laced in his features, and he crosses his arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  I chew on my bottom lip. Is this proposal entirely insane?

  Probably.

  “I could take you as a mate,” I say. “It’s not uncommon for mates to have inner relationships, and nobody would be able to say anything about it.”

  He watches me, clearly not totally onboard. Still, something like hope teases at his features. “I don’t even know if Anderson would reciprocate my feelings.”

  I shrug. “Well, I don’t see the harm in trying. Even if it doesn’t work out for you two, you would have a mate. Isn’t that something your father wants for you?”

  His features turn grim. So I guessed right. Kenneth doesn’t treat his son well at all. If I were to take Thompson as a mate, he’d be untouchable. I’m the true alpha, and I will protect my mates with everything I have. I may not be able to love them, but I can keep them safe.

  “Listen,” I say, taking a step toward him and resting a hand on his chest. His heart is racing. “I don’t expect anything out of this. I just think it would be better for you than whatever the fuck you’re putting up with now.” When he doesn’t seem receptive, I take a giant leap of faith. He doesn’t trust me, and I need him to do so for my plan to work. “My name isn’t Victoria. It’s Eve.”

  His eyes flick up to mine, widening as recognition rolls through him. His mouth pops open, and I evaluate his features, waiting for his response but refusing to back down. When he doesn’t respond, I say, “I know you’ve seen how he’s driving the pack into the ground. He’s a monster. He killed my father in front of me.”

  Thompson closes his eyes and sets his jaw. The tendons in his neck pop out as his body tenses. I’m ready for him to say no, to rat me out, but instead, he mumbles, “Do it.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. Anderson is standing outside doing his job, none the wiser. He must know Thompson is here, though. Does he suspect something is going on?

  I stand up on my toes, tossing my hair behind my shoulder. Almost like he’s acting on instinct, Thompson wraps an arm around my waist, holding me against his body. I trace my lips on his neck, electricity tingling through me. Am I really going to do this?

  My teeth graze his neck and down to his shoulder, his vein throbbing beneath the skin. I allow myself to shift partway, my teeth elongating in my suddenly crowded mouth. All my senses grow sharper, and the sounds of the club attack me from all sides. It’s so overwhelming that I clamp down on his shoulder, my teeth slicing through the skin like it’s nothing.

  A bolt of lightning freezes me in place, and Thompson buries his head
in my hair, a groan dragging its way out of his throat. Every inch of my body burns with need, but we are in a very public place, and it’s not like this is a standard mating. I have to remind myself that he has no actual interest in me. This is an entirely political decision.

  I have to drag myself away from him, and the wound on his neck stitches itself together immediately. I pant as I stare at him. It’s like the world is enhanced, his body standing out like a fire in the middle of a dark forest. I long to run my fingers through his hair, to kiss him until we can’t breathe, to fuck him senseless.

  “Eve?” Anderson’s voice says. I jerk my head to the side. He’s standing in the open doorway, his eyes wide as he stares between Thompson and me. His chest heaves as he pants, his nostrils flaring as he scents the air around us.

  “It had to be like this,” I say, my voice strong despite the trembling trying to force its way through my body.

  His eyes darken, and he strides toward me, grabbing my face roughly. I expect to see anger and hurt in his eyes, but instead, they’re only filled with lust. He smashes his lips to mine, then looks at Thompson. I don’t miss the way his eyes trace Thompson’s body, and my heart stutters.

  “We’ll talk about this when we get home,” Anderson says. It’s unclear who he’s talking to. Both of us, perhaps? He releases my face, and I slump back against the wall as he exits the small, darkened hallway.

  “Should we go back home?” Thompson asks after a heavy silence. I keep my eyes on the door, then nod. Tonight hadn’t gone at all how I expected, and I want nothing more than to rest. My body has burned away the last of the alcohol in my system from shifting, so there’s little point in staying.

  Chapter Twelve

  Freya

  The basement is the worst place to be. Everyone else has gone out for the night, so I’m stuck with the grunt work. I stalk through the halls, the sparse lights flickering as the damp pipes lining the walls and ceiling shudder from pressure. They’re covered in tape, water dripping in the concrete hallway. Someone should really get that fixed.

  I put on a pair of leather gloves, my fingers sore and raw. I broke my acrylics off after Thompson’s rejection earlier, the process slow and painful. The beds of my real nails are in ruins, though, and I don’t want anyone to see how I chew my nails to the quick. I’ll have to use stick-ons to hide the damage until I can afford a proper manicure again.

  Something rattles in the room past the flimsy wooden door, and I set my shoulders. I refuse to show weakness. I don’t even like guys, but I’d done everything perfectly in an attempt to get Anderson to claim me as a mate, or at least offer. I made sure he got everything he wanted, but I wasn’t too clingy. If I can’t have him, then I have to show Kenneth that I’m the ideal mate for Thompson despite my half-blood status.

  I open the door, and the stench of the room blasts me like a furnace. This isn’t a new process to me, but it’s still horrific every time I have to do it.

  I flick the lights on, illuminating the iron bars across the entire back wall. Dog beds line the floors, some torn up and covered in blood and vomit and who knows what else. Others have small forms curled up on them. Heads raise to look at me, ears pricking forward as I stalk over to the fridge and drop my bag on the ground. Kenneth said they have some sort of illness from being impure, that we have to keep them down here to keep them safe. Being forced to shift every full moon is bad enough, so I can’t imagine what it’s like to be trapped as a wolf.

  The wolves in the cages are all young and skinny, their eyes sunken and wary. “Dinner,” I say as cheerily as I can. My heart breaks as the one cage rattles again, a pup whining as she tosses her metal dog bowl across the cold concrete floor. I’m not supposed to, but after I pull the dog food out, I go over and unlock the cages. Ten of the twenty are occupied, and I’ve seen the way that Kenneth treats them. If they act out, he sprays them with a freezing hose. This part of the building doesn’t get heat, so they’re left to shiver until they can finally manage to dry off.

  The youngest pup, Poppy, sprints over to me, and I kneel on the ground to gather her in my arms. My heart tightens, but I smile. “I know,” I coo, running a hand through her soft coat. I want to take them all out of here, but Kenneth would kill me if he found out. And quite possibly them.

  Her tail wags as she nuzzles into my face, a whine coming out of her. I wish I could do something. I carry her as I fill all the bowls, adding hunks of the pulled pork that I stole from Thompson. He doesn’t know about his father’s side project, which is probably for the best. He’s always been so sensitive. Part of me thinks that if I mate with him, we can do something after he becomes Alpha. I’d had my sights set on Anderson because of his strength. He would’ve been able to protect them. Now, though, I have to change course.

  I carry Poppy around with me as I scrub the room, getting rid of every ounce of evidence that they’ve been getting sick. It happens every time they try to shift back into their human forms. After that’s done, I put the three dirty beds in the washer, spraying the rest to get rid of any bacteria.

  If I think about what I’m doing too much, I get sick. That’s why I break my false nails and scratch my skin and pull my hair when I’m alone. The physical pain of it is far preferable to knowing there’s nothing I can do.

  After all the beds are clean, I put them back in the cages. Then, I procure blankets from the bag I brought with me. It’s far too cold for these kids to be down here with nothing. I’ve asked Kenneth if I can at least keep the younger ones in my apartment, or if they can be adopted out through the pack. Even if they can’t turn human again, it would be better for them to be taken care of. In response to my questions, he broke two of my fingers and a rib. Despite his words about protecting them, it’s clear they have a purpose. I fear for them all.

  I set Poppy down, and she scarfs her food down in an instant. The rest do the same, and I sit against the wall in one of the beds. I take the final item out of my bag, a worn copy of a chapter book I used to read as a child.

  Poppy curls up in my lap, and some of the others rest their heads on my legs. One buries its face in my hair, and others lie nearby on the floor. The night wears on as I keep reading, forcing myself not to shake. I will not break down in front of them. I will be strong. It grows late, and my eyelids grow heavy. I lean back against the wall, telling myself that I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes.

  I wake to my morning alarm, and I have to rush to put the wolf pups back in their cages. I apologize over and over again before running out. As the door shuts behind me, a tiny howl tears my heart in half.

  At the pack meeting, I wait for Thompson to come in. Yesterday may have gone terribly, but today is a fresh start, and being around the shifted pups has only reminded me how dire the situation really is.

  When he walks in with Victoria and Anderson, though, I freeze. He’s glancing around nervously, and there’s a fresh white scar right where his neck and shoulder join together.

  He’s mated to Victoria.

  When Kenneth gives up his rank as lone Alpha, Victoria will be the alpha female of the pack.

  My heart stops, and the air grows thin. What’s going to happen to the pups? We don’t know this woman. Kenneth is awful, but at least he’s predictable. I’ve heard stories of new alpha females killing pups. They’re just rumors, but I suspect there could be some truth to them. What if she’s one of those?

  I clench my press-on dollar store nails into my skin to keep from crying out. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I can’t keep them from overflowing, but I can keep a straight face. I have to figure something else out. Those kids depend on me, and I’m now totally powerless to change their situation. Everything I’ve done has been for nothing. Their future is out of my hands.

  Kenneth glosses over his son’s mating, and as soon as the meeting is over, I rush out of the room, concealing a sob.

  Faintly, just before I’m out of earshot, I hear that selfish bitch say, “What’s her problem?”
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  Chapter Thirteen

  Eve

  By the time Anderson got off work last night, I was asleep in bed, and Thompson insisted on waiting up for him on the couch. Neither of them ever came to bed, but I woke up to them quietly making breakfast together, so it couldn’t have gone too horribly.

  I watch Freya stomp out of the room from the pack meeting, throwing a tantrum because I took Thompson as my mate. I shake my head. Some girls just can’t stand to lose. She’d even spent half the meeting crying, like there aren’t other wolves in other packs she can choose from. She’s clearly used to getting her way all the time.

  “What’s her problem?” I ask as the room clears out.

  Thompson shakes his head. “She spent all day yesterday hitting on me.”

  Anderson nods. “She’s been after me for a while, too.”

  A growl rumbles deep in my chest as I remember finding her scent in his apartment. “Don’t remind me,” I say, standing up. Now that I’ve claimed Thompson and Anderson, I have to move on to the next phase of my plan. In order to kill Kenneth, I’ll have to be alone with him. Which means I’ll need him to trust me. Being mated to his son is sure to help with that, but I also can’t risk him discovering my true identity. I tie half my hair in a bun behind my head, leaving the back flowing down around my shoulders.

  “Alpha,” I say, heightening the pitch of my voice and tilting my head down to flutter my eyelashes. He stops in his tracks and turns with a smile. His gaze runs over me like a slug’s trail, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and gouge his eyes out.

  “Yes, Victoria?” he says, his voice smooth. He glances behind me, and my mates’ presence radiates from behind me.

  I take a step forward, folding my hands in front of me and slouching just enough to appear weak. “I was wondering, now that I’m part of your pack, if there were any extra responsibilities I could take on? I like having a job.”

 

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