2. Like a dog.

Alister pov

I knew she would do something stupid tonight, I just fucking knew. 

Ophelia is a free spirit, always has been, but lately, with her birthday nearing, the little shit has been pushing my buttons more than usual. 

Which is exactly why I’m following her scent through the River Storm territory just an hour after I checked her bedroom and found it empty. 

Mom, dad and Luka don’t know the little princess isn’t in her bed and I’m pretty sure they’d have a brain aneurysm if they found out she went to a sketchy club in a neighboring territory. 

The place reeks of alcohol, sweat, and too many wolves - the stench hits me the moment I step in. If it wasn’t for the brat, I’d turn around and leave this dump without a single regret. 

I grit my teeth and move through the crowd, following her fading scent toward the back of the club. When I step into the back hallway, which I assume leads to restrooms, I want to slam my head against the wall because of sheer annoyance. Of course, what I see is literally the type of shit that would find Ophelia wherever she goes. 

The Graves twins have her pinned against the wall.

Hayes has his nose buried in her neck, his hand pressed against her mouth while Tate blocks her other side. Between them, Ophelia looks small and so damn scared… Fuck, I don’t know why I care anymore. 

I step forward without thinking and my hand shoots out to grab the closest twin, Kayes, by the wrist. My fingers lock around it so hard, the sound of bones snapping echo in the small hallway. A loud, pained snarl tears from his throat, Hayes fights against my hold, trying to pull away, but I refuse to let him go.

Slowly, I turn my head and look at Ophelia. Nothing but disgust fills my chest where love for my sister was supposed to live. 

I can’t, just can’t, get over how reckless she is - sneaking out, putting herself in danger like some spiteful, misbehaving child. 

While I glare daggers at Ophelia, Hayes tries to yank his wrist free again. “The fuck-”

Instead of letting the asshole go, I twist his arm and stop short of breaking it, relishing in the sound of pain that tears from his throat. 

Tate finally steps aside, but out of the two of them, he’s the more observant one, so he doesn’t miss the look in my eyes as I watch Ophelia. A nasty, bitter laugh leaves him as he slaps his hand against the wall, acting like he’s watching a comedy. “Even her own brother can’t stand her. Look at his face, bro, their whole fucked-up family is pathetic.”

As soon as those words ring out in the hallway, I let go of Hayes’s wrist and punch Tate square in the jaw. His head snaps back before he drops to the floor, proving once again that the bigger they are, the harder they fall. 

I don’t wait for either of the twins to come back to their senses, just grab Ophelia by the back collar of her dress and yank her away from the wall like a misbehaving pup.

The shock leaves her as soon as she stumbles and that annoying, high-pitched voice of hers rings through the hallway, “Alister! Let go!”

Yeah, sure, as if I’d listen to her whining and complaining while she’s the reason for this mess. I don’t let go, in fact, I ignore her demands even as she stumbles and falls, so I’m left dragging her out toward the exit while she’s kicking and screaming. 

“Stop it! Alister, let me go right now!”

People stare as I drag her through the club, which doesn’t surprise me because the little brat is fighting the whole way out. She even tries to grab at my wrist, but I move my hand so her skin doesn’t come in contact with mine. 

“You have no right! I’m twenty years old! Let go of me!”

Ophelia’s voice grows louder once we’re outside the club, but I ignore every demand and keep walking, my grip on the fabric of her dress remains locked tight. 

“This is humiliating! Everyone is staring! Alister, I swear to God-”

Of course, here come the treats. Anger comes first, then the threats to ruin me and after, once mom and dad find out what she did, come the angelic tears and excuses. Fucking pathetic. 

Ophelia kicks her legs again, even tries to dig her heels in as if that could stop me. I don’t slow down my pace as I drag her across the parking lot toward the road that leads home.

“You’re such an asshole!” She yells. “I was just having fun! One night, I wanted only one fucking night and you had to ruin it!”

When we reach the road, I stop for a moment and yank her up so she can walk with her own damn legs, but I don’t release my hold on her, walking fast while keeping her upright and steady.

“I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you for this!” Ophelia screams, as if she believes spitting venom at me will change anything. I’ve heard it all before, heard much worse things really, so none of it bothers me.

The walk home is long and the entire time, she won’t shut up. “Why do you always do this? Why do you look at me like I’m garbage? I didn’t ask for any of this! I didn’t ask for you to lose your voice! I didn’t ask for whatever the hell is inside me!”

As soon as the words leave her, Ophelia kicks at my leg and thankfully misses, so she’s the one who stumbles, not me, which enrages her even more. “You treat me like I’m a disease! Dragging me like a dog in front of everyone!? Do you know how embarrassing this is? I’m not a child!”

While she rages, I keep my gaze locked straight ahead, fighting for restraint. If she doesn’t shut up soon, I might do something that couldn’t be undone, like slap her just to shut her up. 

But, as always, even when her voice goes hoarse from all the screaming, the brat keeps raging. “Mom and dads are going to kill me because of you! This is your fault! You always ruin everything for me! I just wanted to dance and have one normal night!”

Out of what I assume is nothing but sheer desperation, Ophelia attempts to twist out of my grip, but I only adjust my hold and keep dragging her. 

“You’re mute but you still act like you rule my life! I wish you would just leave me alone! I wish-”

Ophelia cuts herself off once she realizes I’m pulling her up the driveway of the house. The lights are on, her face goes pale as a sheet and for that single moment, I relish the sound of silence. 

When I drag her through the front door and straight into the living room, she’s suddenly very quiet and obedient, nothing like the wild, raging brat she was the entire walk home. 

Mom is sitting on the couch with dad and Luka, all of them stand up the moment they see me dragging their precious little treasure inside. 

Before anyone can speak, I let go of Ophelia and let her drop to the floor like trash she loves to pretend to be. She doesn’t even try to stand up and stays on the floor, breathing hard, her hair messy, looking like a proper stray. 

I turn to look at my father and sign, “found the little shit poking her nose where it doesn’t belong. She was in the River Storm pack, that druggies club by the border, getting all cozy and cute with the Graves twins. Deal with the brat, I’m not responsible for this shit.” 

Mom’s and Luka’s eyes widen to comical size while dad looks between us.

Seeing that her little secret is out in the open, Ophelia pushes herself up and points her finger at me before she screams, “he dragged me the whole way home by my collar like a fucking dog, in front of everyone! Tell him he can’t do that to me!”