3/3
The Pack: Rule Number 1 – No Mates
Chapter Two Hundred Sixty–Eight
CANE
“One last try,” I mumble to Gryffin, out in the woods.
“No. Not yet. You’re worn out. Can’t you feel it? You need to eat. And for the record–so the fuck do 1.
“But how can this be? Maybe the change didn’t happen after all. Maybe it failed, I snarl, glaring up at the heavens.
“It did not,” Gio says in a bored tone. “I can smell you. You are not only a shifter, but you are a powerful one. Besides, your fangs chomped out a couple of times. Use that to scare Roman instead of your shifted form.” He winks.
Despite this man being the one I have to thank for saving my life, I have the strangest urge to knock the amused grin right off his heckling face.
“You know what actually might work a lot better than you standing naked in the trees? Domonic gizzles, casting his eyes toward the house. “A hunt,”
“Oooohhhh yeah!!!” Goose croons, excitement flashing in his gaze. “Fuck yeah! I’m down!”
“Do you really want to chance releasing that vagrant piece of shit back on the world just to help me realize my new form?” I snap. “I’m the one in need of provocation and even I know how stupid that would be.”
“Not him, pussy cat, Domonic laughs. The spare. Teddy.”
“But I’m not angry with Ted,” I say smoothly. “He’s never occupied any type of space in my mind. Not for any reason. Not at all. Not even when he tried to make a bid for my sister.”
“That’s because you don’t already know that he fucked
“Hey!” Quinn spits from the corner of the woods. “No. No. We don’t say those words.”
“Oh that’s right!” Bartlett smiles. “Captain Gherkin.”
“Captain what?” I snarl. “Are you talking about those tiny pickles?”
“Dude!” Bartlett snaps his fingers, pointing at me and then gazing around at the wolves and lions around us. “Told you. Tiny pickles. Even he knows what they are.”
“Yeah, Domonic smirks, sauntering up to me with a taunting smile on his face, But does he know the significance of these pickles?”
“Fuck the hell off, Dom, Quinn growls, his fangs slashing out and his muscles coiling to shift.
This is kinda cool. Being surrounded by this. I’ve never had it before. This… camaraderie. Not even the Elder Few are this tight. There’s not a single calculating soul around me, not one selfish bastard in the bunch and… I like it. I like… this. 2
So I push my apprehension aside and step toward Domonic. Tell me, oh King of Dogs, tell me of this… this Captain Gherkin.”
ANASTACIA
“Stop pacing, sweetheart,” one of the younger officers on duty tells me form his perch near the elevator. “The sheriff said he’d release you. I’m sure he intends to do so.”
Not why I’m pacing asshole.
1/3
Chapter Two Hundred Sixty–Eight
I allow a smile to cross my lips despite the hunger of his gaze making me feel somewhat queasy and he leers at me with a lick of his lips. the bulge in the front of his pants catching my attention as it begins to solidify grotesquely.
Odd.
I don’t usually let the depraved stares of those under my charms upset me this way, so why is the way he’s looking at me making me want to poke his eyes into their sockets? It’s my fault. Well, mostly. I mean, I’m no troll. I can turn the eye my way just as easily without magic as I can with. But the natural engagement of such is so much more fleeting and narrow. Not nearly as potent and uncontrolled as Boy Wonder’s reaction to me is over there. I mean, I think he has a full grown hard on in his pants and he’s not making any effort to hide that
fact.
Nope. His attention was definitely tweaked to its heights by my magic.
But Paul… Damn. Why didn’t I check out his package when he was still in here?
With a bite of my lip, I close my eyes and assess my immediate situation. There isn’t a mirror anywhere in sight, of course, this being a jail and a simple one at that. But I don’t need one to see the dirt beneath my nails and the mud caked to my skin. Those things are up front and personal. Along with this stupid, lavender, ripped up, column cowl mini sequin dress dress that I am wearing. A dress that I’m afraid I have been wearing for over a week. A dress that barely covers my assets and is so worn that most of the glimmer is gone.
Holy Shit. Has it really been that long?
It has. I know it has. And despite that I am still dog tired, there’s no rest for the wicked so I absolutely must stay awake until I’ve discovered a way to end these Shadow Hounds.
What are the odds that these wolf shifters might have the answers I seek? Maybe… Suppose I come clean with them about what I am…. might they be convinced to help me?
It is definitely worth considering. However I’m going to have to feel them out a bit more first. The fact that one of them is mated is actually a good sign. It means that there is love in their hearts and they are possibly among the best kind of shifters in the world. The kind that do not survive on the draining of shadows. The kind that don’t feed upon the souls of the Gifted to prolong their life like the
Shadow Hounds do.
Draco, the bastard, he’ll never give up on devouring me. I know this.
He played a good game, I’ll give him that. Luring me into his trap with the promise of a love that was all bullshit. Turning me away from my grandmother and my sister then waiting years to switch the fuck up and finally expose his dark heart for all to see.
But I was the willing idiot who decided to make myself a fool for love. Knowing what I knew about his kind and what they are about. I just didn’t recognize him as one of them at first. He kept his pack well hidden from me. Never exposing his hand until the very last minute. Of course, Draco is over two hundred years old and has had plenty of time to perfect his craft.
As much as I hate him now, I must admit, some part of me is still torn to shreds in the wake of my heartbreak. That night, only about a week ago, he taught me that love is the greatest magic of all.
The ultimate illusion.
And I won’t forget that fact for as long as I live.
