Chapter 24

Prue

I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, watching yet another podcast about dopamine addiction in adults, when a knock came at my door.

"Come in, Dad!"

I called out. No, weres don’t have x-ray vision, but it’s not like anyone else would knock on my door. Dad stepped in with a small smile and a grim expression.

Oh no. Fu.ck me and my life. Dread and nervous butterflies stirred in my stomach.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" he asked as he walked closer and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Just say it, Dad." I cut him off. No point dragging this out. It’s not like he came here for small talk. He gave me another sad smile.

"I know this will be difficult at first, but I talked with Alpha and we agreed that you’re moving to the packhouse tonight."

"Tonight?!" I nearly shouted. I knew it was going to be bad, but this was a whole new level of disastrous. He nodded.

"Yes, Rue. The boy will pick you up in three hours. So, you’ve got time to pack what you want to take."

I just stared at him, dumbfounded. My life was about to implode in three hours. Nothing had ever felt this sudden. Or out of my control.

"The Alpha is ready to buy you anything you’ll need there, in case you want to leave everything behind."

Yeah, no thanks. Like hell I’d leave my favorite stuff. Everything I owned, I truly loved. Growing up always on the move and not exactly rich, that had been my shopping mantra – buy only what you absolutely adore.

"Why are you doing this to me?" The hurt and betrayal seeped into my voice.

"Rue, it’s for your own good. It’s not safe for you to stay with me anymore,"

Dad said firmly.

"Now it’s not safe?! We’ve been on our own for decades!" I exaggerated for effect.

"Meeting your mate changes everything," he replied calmly.

"Why?!" I demanded. He wasn't telling me a damn thing anymore.

He gave me a look, equal parts sad and weary.

"We’ll talk soon. But first – get to know the boy. Give him a chance."

What?! Wy was he siding with that arrogant dou.che?

"Why would I do that?" I was planning to reject him within weeks, not date him.

"I didn’t feel any bad vibes coming off him. And if he’s your mate, that’s got to mean something good."

Dad said calmly, making my jaw hang open as I stared at him, shocked. No bad vibes? Maybe for you, Dad – you don’t care if he’s slept with anything in a skirt. You’re not the one whose heart’s on the line. He wanted to reject me within two hours of meeting. I’m supposed to give that a chance? I didn’t bother hiding my disgust.

"Come on, my dear, start packing. I can help if you like."

"No thanks. I’ve got it." I said flatly, putting on my saddest expression ever. Maybe he’d soften at the sight of my pain? Not likely. Honestly, I didn’t want him digging through my stuff and stumbling upon my se.x toys. That would be the real tragedy here.

"You go do your own thing," I added.

"Yeah, about that..." He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"I’m staying here for now."

"What?!" I shouted, making him wince. Another dagger in my chest. He was leaving me alone in that wolf den? How could he?Betrayal stung like acid.

"For now, Rue. Let things settle between you two. If all goes well, I’ll come join you."

He stated calmly. If all goes well? What kind of condition was that, and what did it even imply? Good with him or good with me?

"Alright, I’ll get you some boxes from the basement," he said before slipping out.

I felt so miserable I fell backward on the bed, so defeated I misjudged the distance and smacked my head on the headboard. Groaning, I rubbed the sore spot. I’m officially screwed.

I packed like a sloth on death row. I hated this. Everything was spiraling out of control. Life had played one nasty joke on me the day I met that da.mn mate. I even started regretting going to his parents – I would still have lived a quite life with my dad instead of beeing tossed out like a garbage bag.

The doorbell rang and I glanced at the clock. I guess Prince Charming has arrived, I thought sarcastically. There was nothing charming about that dou.che.

I kept packing as his scent hit me like a slap, making me feel oddly calmer and less annoyed. Wow, that’s some witchcraft. Unfair one, may I add. I didn’t turn toward the door even as I heard his footsteps shuffle in.

“So, which ones can I take to the car?”

Andrew asked. Wow. Lovely manners. No hi, no how are you, no need help? I got annoyed again.

“You can take anything that’s closed or zipped.”

I replied, still pulling stuff from my drawer into a bag. Nope, I didn’t spare him a glance. I could match his charming manners. I breathe sarcasm. I heard him moving and carrying things out. I glanced at his retreating back. His arms strained under the weight, muscles bulging under his tee.

Se.xy, was my first thought.

No. Not. Ugly as fu.ck.

I scolded myself, growing grumpier at my own traitorous mind.

When everything was loaded, and I came downstairs with my backpack of essentials like my phone, Dad came out of the sitting room too.

He gave me a hug and a pep talk about behaving and how “everything would turn out great.” So annoying. Still, his scent calmed me instantly. He had always been my home, my harbor, my heaven. I wanted to cry, that’s how sad I felt. But I bit my cheek hard before tears could surface.

I walked to the SUV and checked the back – this one had a huge boot, as all my stuff fit. Surprising, since so many SUVs have tiny ones.

“What model is this?” I asked as I clicked my seatbelt.

“BMW X5,” he said while glancing at me. I looked around.

“Cool.” I replied and pulled out my headphones. I wasn’t going to talk to him. It was bad enough I had to sit beside him, breathing in his scent. I wish it made me puke instead of… cream. No. Focus. Podcast time. Yes, parental styles and their impact on child development. Fascinating.

The drive to the packhouse was the longest, most dreadful ride of my life. Every second stretched like chewing gum stuck to my shoe – slow, sticky, and unbearable. I caught myself wishing that weres had a superpower of being able to hold our breath for twenty minutes straight. Anything to stop inhaling him.

Because every single breath I took dragged his scent into me, filling my lungs with that maddening amazingness. It was like breathing in strawberries – lush, ripe, impossible not to crave – but with the lethal promise of choking if it went down the wrong pipe. And Goddess, it was going down the wrong pipe.

The whole ride, all I could think about was se.x. Not romance. Not love. Not moonlit walks or whispered confessions. No – just se.x. Heat and skin and positions I didn’t even know my brain had a catalog for until his scent pulled it out of me. That’s what he did to me. That’s what this bond was doing. I could only hope I wasn’t broadcasting arousal like some walking air freshener. Ugh, should’ve doused myself in perfume or, better yet, bathed in scent-masking spray. Why didn’t I think ahead?

At school, the smell had already been torture. But now? Sitting just two feet away in a car, it was like being strapped down and force-fed temptation. Honestly, someone could have shot me dead right there and then – I wouldn’t have complained. At least that would’ve been mercy compared to this chainsaw of attraction ripping through my body, tearing me apart from the inside out.

This bond wasn’t a gift. It was a prison. It was arresting me in ways I had never experienced before. Me – the girl who had always had her freedom, who’d always decided her own path. Now? I didn’t even own my own choices. The bond pushed me. People pushed me. My own traitor of a body pushed me.

What the actual hell.

I walked up the packhouse stairs behind Andrew, who carried some of my stuff. I didn’t lift a thing. Let him struggle. A few wolves shot us curious looks, but Andrew ignored them. Introductions later? More like never. It’s not like he’s proud to have me as a mate.

I looked at his back, thinking up ways to annoy him. I wanted him angry, annoyed, frustrated, uncomfortable – anything but composed. I’d be that mosquito you hear at night buzzing next to your ear: can’t catch, can’t kill – just biting and bothering nonstop.

“So, this is our room.” Andrew said, stepping in.

“Our room?” I asked, in disbelief.

“Yeah!” he nodded. “Well, it’s my room, but I rearranged it so you can fit your stuff too.”

“I’m not staying in your room!” I exclaimed. No way. Over my dead body.

“What’s wrong with my room? It’s not like I stink.” He wrinkled his nose and looked around.

“Oh, you definitely stink. You know what the worst part is? That arrogant Alpha scent you carry – no soap’s strong enough to wash that off.” I said with disgust. His glare snapped toward me. Good. Be bothered.

“I need a separate room.” I huffed and crossed my arms. He looked at my posture.

“You can have the room next to me.” He said nonchalantly. Huh. That was easy.

“Good!” I said and stepped out to see which door he meant.

He went to the right, opened a door, and brought my stuff in. The room was nice and neat, totally soulless – clearly never used. Probably a guest room.

“Does this fit your taste?” he asked, sarcasm thick.

“Yes, thank you very much.” I snapped back with equal attitude.

He arched a brow at me, clearly amused by my bite. “Charming,” he muttered, dropping my bag on the bed with a careless thud.

I crossed my arms, chin lifting.

“Don’t expect me to grovel just because you’ve upgraded me to guest-room charity case.”

His jaw tightened, and for a heartbeat, silence stretched between us, heavy and electric. The bond buzzed in my chest like a live wire, making it impossible to look away from him no matter how much I wanted to.

Finally, he turned, hand already on the doorknob.

“Stay out of trouble,” he said flatly, though the low growl in his voice hinted it was more of an order than advice.

I forced a smirk, even as my stomach flipped.

“Don’t worry, boy. Trouble usually finds me on its own.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with four blank walls, a too-neat bed, and the undeniable truth: this wasn’t freedom. It was a cage with cleaner sheets.