“You look exhausted,” Sebastion says to me, his eyes straight forward as we walk through the park in the city. Nickolai is flitting from vendor to vendor, looking back to check on me now and again as he suspiciously buys everything he can, including a few floral items. Maybe I am mistaken and maybe they are for his mother or perhaps he has a sister? Who am I to assume these gifts are for me? Yet the gleam in his eye and the smirk on his lips pull me back to that thought process. I look over now at Sebastion, who is watching me curiously, and I realize he had spoken. “Oh, uh. Thanks?” I say, not sure if he is being rude or observant. He laughs and my heart flutters at the sound as I watch him, inspecting every part of his face. His dark eyes glimmer and shine, full of mirth. And the lines around his lips hint to me that maybe he does more smiling than he lets on. For the first time since meeting him, he seems relaxed, and it looks fucking glorious on him. He gives me a strange loo
I should feel guilty about kissing Nickolai to steal from him, but I can’t find myself hating the kiss as I step back from him. It was a sweet kiss. It was gentle and telling, not at all wanting. Nickolai is a gentle alpha. He has an air about him that just pulls you in like a magnet. He gazes down at me as he tugs on a piece of my loose hair, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Uh…” I say, chuckling nervously. “What was that about?” “Oh,” his face falls suddenly and my chest feels weird at his disappointment. “I thought… you weren’t going to kiss me. Were you?” He asks, looking deflated. It’s a look I can’t stand. I don’t really understand how I feel about Nickolai. I like him. He is sexy and adorable at the same time and I want to like him but something feels like it's missing. But maybe it’s my apprehension because I know I’m lying to him? Or maybe it’s the pulling in my heart telling me not to let my walls down for him. It’s not a feeling I can put my finger on, not yet anyway, s
~Sebastian~ Nickolai, Tank, and I wait patiently outside the packhouse–if you could call it a house. This place is more like a mini fortress preparing for war. We had to come through two checkpoints to get here and here we wait, six minutes past our meeting time. I lean against the post on the front steps of the large white mansion while Nickolai sighs heavily, checking his watch once more. “Be still, Nickolai” I mutter. “Easy for you to say! You’re a brute with no actual emotions.” I quirk a brow with mild amusement. He is nervous and I can see why. This is important. We want to leave a good impression on Alpha Alden, even if he is leaving a bad one on us. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” he groans in frustration. “It’s fine. You didn’t hurt my tender feelings,” I joke. Nickolai leans on the post opposite me while Tank stands at the bottom of the steps looking around, no doubt feeling anxious the more we wait. From a protection standpoint, the longer we wait for such a meeting
~Wren~In ideal circumstances, Alden would have left on time to show the boys the pack lands. But the word ideal and Alden don’t play well together, so here I am, fifteen minutes later, cursing the asshole who has zero concepts of time. It’s not surprising that he is self-absorbed and can’t be bothered to do things with a time constraint. That would mean admitting that the world doesn’t spin around him like he is earth’s axis.The sun is closing in on its highest point of the day and where I am usually one for hiding in the shadows, today I am flat against the top of the wall. Which sucks for me because sweat mingles with the cotton of my shirt and I have no doubt that it looks like I was just involved in a wet t-shirt contest. I was overly excited about the mission, for obvious reasons, so I have been in place for close to an hour now. My patience is now near nonexistence.A feminine loud
She stares at me like I’m some magical creature that crawled out from a mystical place instead of the child she left to be raised by her heartbroken mate. After staring for a minute and a few tears, she wipes her hands on her thighs and chuckles nervously. She moves to touch my cheek, but I recoil from her touch. “You are more beautiful than I could have ever imagined,” she whispers.“Who is Waylon?” I say accusatory.She winces at my question, her eyes immediately darting away from mine as she reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling the door open. Elara sticks her head out and tugs me along with her. I hate how her hand in mine is comforting, like a nice cup of tea after hours in the snow warming me from the inside out. I want to hate her, be mad at her for not fighting harder to come back to us, to me. But I’m old enough to know that life is never as easy as making one singular decision. I squeeze her hand, trying to keep my tears at bay. The conflicting emotions are more than I ant
Avi grasps my wrist as I’m falling, stopping my descent and the guard's assault. My heel makes contact with the person below me, crunching into what I assume is his nose as I propel myself up using the guard’s face as a step. He releases me and Avi pulls me up so hard I almost overshoot the wall. He grabs my hand and we run along the top, leaping onto the roof of other buildings and moving closer and closer to our hideout. I glance over my shoulder, watching the crowds of people below us milling around and going about their day like they don’t live in the most corrupt pack on this side of the river. I hate this side of the wall. The oblivious or willfully blind pack members who ignore what is happening. We jump down out of a roof and into a tree where we have clothes hidden and I slip a hoodie on and grab the worn-out green baseball cap, tucking my hair up into it. Avi strips himself of his hood and takes his sunglasses off, stuffing them into his pocket. “Let’s move,” I tell him
~Sebastian~ I watch Nickolai closely, trying to gauge his thoughts. After our tour with Alpha Alden, I think we are all a little on edge. The guy is clearly an asshole who has zero regards for the mate bond. Which bothers Nickolai more than me. I am more worldly than he is, having been a warrior before officially becoming his shadow. The mate bond is respected everywhere, and everywhere it isn’t respected. You can find chinks in the pack’s defense. That happens when you deny a blessing or betray it. The things you touch slowly crumble and fall apart, or they should. The Black Night pack, however, seems to thrive aside from their slums outside the outer wall. They seem to do well economically and everyone appears relatively happy. Alden refused to let us enter his massive packhouse after his beta Spencer pulled him away for a moment. When he came back, he was fuming and barely talked anymore. He introduced us to his newest gamma, Waylon, though he didn’t mention who he replaced or w
~Wren~ Nickolai presses me hard into the wall, his head slumping down my neck, sloppily kissing at anything he can find. He had way more to drink than he was expecting. That may have been my fault, considering him being blazing drunk works better in my favor. One thing the humans did right was brewing one hundred fifty proof alcohol, not that we get drunk on it as they do, but after about 16 tall glasses? Yep. It’s enough to make a werewolf loopy. “Nickolai,” I whisper, realizing he is breathing heavier into my neck, his arms going limp. I grab hold of his shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Shit.” He fucking fell asleep way sooner than I expected. He has me pressed into the wall right next to the door. I glance around and groan in annoyance when I realize how far away the bed really is. It will not be easy to get him over there. I gently press him back delicately, balancing him so he doesn’t fall backward and hit his head. He totters to the right towards the door, making me squ