Chapter 43

Prue

The pack house smelled like wet fur, engine oil, and the fading smoke from the yesterday's fire pit outside when I walked towards the truck. My mood was already sour enough to curdle milk, and the moment I saw Andrew walking towards the car and John at the back my irritation sharpened like a knife dragged over stone. My two favourite people in this pack – mind the sarcasm.

No way in hell I was sitting next to Alpha boy. John had taken the back seat, legs stretched like he owned the damn vehicle.

“Move out, little legs,” I barked at him.

John frowned but started to climb out. “I don’t have little legs.”

I slid into the seat just as he moved towards front, Andrew pulling the driver’s door open in the same moment. Three doors slammed shut almost simultaneously, the sound echoing through the quiet driveway.

Greg snorted from the seat next to me. Andrew glanced at John and then me with his long lashes and beautiful eyes. Beautiful? Totally ugly. I buckled my belt with sharp, irritated movements.

“You just have a small di.ck, right?” I said flatly to John.

John whipped his head toward me.

“I definitely don’t have a small di.ck,” he protested.

Greg burst out laughing. Andrew’s shoulders shook slightly as he started the engine.

“Well,” I said coolly, leaning back against the seat, “it’s all about perspective and what you compare it with, right? I guess if you compare yours with a hedgehog’s, it probably looks huge.”

The truck erupted with laughter. John turned toward me slowly, his mouth hanging open like a stunned fish.

“What did I do?”

I stared at him in pure disbelief.

“Do you have a brain?” I asked with deep disapproval.

“WTF, of course I do,” he shot back while the others continued chuckling.

“And is your brain capable of holding memories of past events?” I continued sweetly.

“Come on, what is going on?”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then dig into your memory and find out.”

John threw his hands in the air. “What is happening? I’ve never been this insulted in my life.”

“That’s probably because you’ve never been confined with your enemy in a small, closed space before.”

“Your enemy?” he stared at me in disbelief. “We used to be buddies!”

“Yeah,” I said coldly. “You used the correct grammatical form there – used to be. Past tense. Draw your own conclusions… if your brain is capable.”

Greg nearly choked trying to hold in laughter.

John groaned. “Come on, you can’t be this upset about that dare.”

I turned my head slowly toward him.

“I hate to be forced,” I said calmly. My voice was quiet, but the anger in it was sharp enough to leave a sting in the air, like a match just struck.

“And I’m not as eager to stick my tongue down someone’s throat as you are,” I added.

I leaned forward slightly.

“So tell me, did he taste like cherry or whiskey?”

John’s face went red so fast it looked painful – the color spreading from his neck all the way to his forehead.

He turned abruptly toward the window. Good, at least that shut him up.

The truck hummed along the road, tires crunching softly on gravel before hitting the pavement. John suddenly spun back toward me.

“I took your stupid humiliation like a champ when you dared me to kiss a guy,” he snapped. “But you’re going to be a mean bitch just because I asked you to kiss your mate?”

My lip curled.

“He is my nothing until I say so.” The words came out sharper than I intended. Without thinking, my eyes flicked to the rearview mirror – Andrew was already looking at me. The moment our eyes locked, I remembered the kiss in sick details. Heat crawled over my skin. The pull of the bond felt like being hooked to a live wire – electricity locking my muscles, refusing to let me pull free. Damn it, my mistake for even looking.

I tore my gaze away and forced myself to stare out the window at the passing trees.

“You’re both just proud and spiteful,” John muttered. “You needed a nudge in the right direction.”

“Don’t play matchmaker, John,” I spat. “It will bite you in the ass.”

Then I tilted my head slightly.

“Or should I say… it will bite your tongue.”

Greg snorted. I leaned sideways, trying to catch John’s reflection in the side mirror.

“You enjoyed that kiss with the boy a lot, didn’t you?”

John’s face turned to stone. He didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead. Interesting, silence could mean many things, but in this case it smelled suspiciously like agreement.

“What was that guy’s name?” I asked Greg casually. Greg glanced at John before replying.

“Nico.”

I hummed softly.

“Hmm. Cute.”

And judging by the way John’s jaw tightened… I had just found a brand new button to push.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve offended me in the last five minutes,” John suddenly burst out, his voice climbing higher with every word until it almost cracked, making him sound less like the tough pack member he pretended to be and more like a kid who had just realized the world wasn’t going to treat him gently.

“You’re all just a bunch of arrogant pricks,” I shot back without missing a beat, my tone sharp and laced with something far deeper than irritation – years of watching, measuring, and staying silent when I shouldn’t have.

“Hey, what did I do?” Greg cut in, half-laughing, half-defensive, like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or offended.

I let out a humorless breath, shaking my head slowly as I leaned back, my fingers tapping against my thigh in restless energy that needed somewhere to go.

“You all are ranked members,” I continued, my voice gaining intensity as the words spilled out, heavier and more deliberate with each second. “Girls look at you with those stupid heart-shaped eyes, and guys look at you and think – yeah, they’re strong, they’re untouchable.”

I tilted my head slightly, my lips curling in disdain.

“But you’ve never actually faced real, honest feedback, have you? Because the people who see you clearly – the ones who notice that you’re just… average, that you’re not perfect – they don’t say it.”

My gaze flicked between them, lingering just long enough to make it uncomfortable.

“They won’t step up and tell you to your face, because what would happen?” I continued, my voice dropping, quieter now but far more cutting. “They’d get growled at, pushed down, bullied, forced to submit just to keep your egos intact.”

The air in the car shifted, heavier, thicker.

“And that,” I added, almost softly, “says everything about what’s really going on in this pack.”

“The Goddess is always right with her choices,” Andrew said, speaking up at last.

I let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Of course she chose right,” I said, my eyes narrowing slightly, something darker flashing behind them. “But do you have any idea how easy it is to ruin everything the moment you’re born into this world? The moment you’re thrown into this 3D reality – into ego, into emotions like jealousy, pride, arrogance, hatred, anger, and revenge – how fast everything starts to fall apart? How easy it is to lose sight of original goals and predestined plans?”

I lifted my hand and snapped my fingers once, the sharp sound slicing through the space between us.

“That easy,” I finished, my voice low, steady, and far more dangerous than any shouting could ever be.

Silence swallowed the car for the rest of the ride, thick and suffocating, pressing against my ears until even the low hum of the engine felt too loud, too intrusive – like it was trying to break something that refused to be touched. No one spoke. Not John, not Greg… not even him. And I knew – just knew – they were all turning my words over in their heads, picking them apart, tasting them, choking on them.

But the worst part? So was I.

The anger that had burned so hot a moment ago cooled into something heavier, something quieter, settling deep in my chest like ash after a fire – still warm, still dangerous, but no longer wild.

Did I go wrong somewhere? Was Andrew really the original planned bond I was meant to have…or just the consequence I earned for being the bitchy, snappy, psychotic person I am?

My gaze flicked up for just a second, catching Andrew’s reflection before I could stop myself, that same invisible pull tightening in my chest like a chain I couldn’t quite break.

Could I have been better – nicer, sweeter, less rebellious, less opinionated, less ready to argue with anyone at any given chance? I could have.

I looked away again, jaw tightening. Either way…

I wasn’t ready to accept this bond.