Chapter Three

                                Shawn

I sit behind the big oak desk in my office, metal lighter in hand, flickering on and off. I don't smoke. The lighter is just a habit _ part of who I am.

Eighteen hundred years, that's what the werewolves had inhabited these lands. There had been a land rift between the humans and us, to which we obviously won, all thanks to our supernatural abilities and our knowledge of being the older species.

There's a knock on the door, and I know automatically who it is. My senses are that good. They pick up the tiniest sounds. Alpha qualities. But I wasn't just any Alpha. 

"Come in," I say, not bothering to stand.

Alice walks in, file in hand, stilettos high and pointy, lightly charred lipstick thick on her thin lips.

"Good morning, Shawn." We've known each other since we were babies in swaddling clothes, so it was natural to be on a first-name basis. 

"You look all pouty this morning… You never do," I say, flipping through the file she had dropped on my desk. It held information on the collaboration between one of my fabric companies and one Apex model company. 

"There are whispers around the mansion that you adopted a female human." 

I perceive her need for my explanation, which I'm sure she knows better than to expect anything from me. 

"And?" I ask, not bothering to look up at her. 

"We can't have humans here in our midst, you know that." 

"She's like you and me… werewolf" I say, not offering more explanation.

"You turned her?”

When I say nothing, she proceeds. "New soulmate? I thought you said you were done with humans? Or you suddenly fell in love with another? You…"

"She saw me shape shift, okay? I did what I had to do. Not let her go." 

"There are other ways, Shawn. You could easily kill her." 

"Not before I make her suffer," I say, finally lifting my eyes to meet hers. "She saw what she shouldn't have. She was in our territory. Killing her immediately was letting her off easily. I don't do easy."

She keeps mute, not saying anything, I could still see arguments lingering behind her eyes, her lips propped like they have tons of things to say, but know that I'm not one to listen or reconsider.

"She's awake. I saw her at the top room's window," she says after a few seconds of standing there quietly. 

I nod. I do not tell her that I'm aware, because I can feel the pull of her wolf on mine. 

I didn’t go in quietly. I didn’t give a warning either. It's already late by the time she realizes I am in the room, the air shifts —thick, charged, almost alive. My wolf howls in warning, claws scraping against my palms, and I suppress it with everything in me. 

She didn’t flinch. I expected her to. Instead, she smiles —just the faintest lift of one corner of her mouth and the green in his eyes gleamed brighter in the morning sunlight. Her hair, a white cascade, shields her face. Her lips, dry but delicate, like it begged to be kissed, licked or watered. 

What the hell am I thinking? I slap myself back to reality in my head, focusing on what needs to be done. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” I say. Step by measured step, I close the distance between us. “The bond. You cannot hide from it.”

I can sense her want to run, despite the front she's pulling, but we're tethered _ me and her —something invisible and feral. I feel the pull again. It's been a very long time, I felt this way. It wasn’t her. It was me. My wolf, responding before I could think, wanted this. Wanted her.

“You’re stronger than I expected,” I murmur, circling her like a predator studying its prey. “Most would break by now.”

She bites her lip to keep from growling. I low-key want to replace it with my own teeth. Even as an experienced wolf, I was having a hard time keeping my wolf at bay.

“You are mine,” I whisper, voice low and deliberate. Not as a threat, not yet as a promise. Just a statement of fact. 

The words dig into my chest, igniting something I knew I wasn't willing to entertain. She was once human, and she is at my mercy. I want to hate her. I do, in fact. But my traitorous wolf made my body react. My wolf nudged forward, testing boundaries, brushing against her. A soft, dangerous thrill coursed through me.

I watch her squirm. Her eyes, a pool of desire, and it gives my wolf some satisfaction that we're the reason behind that look. Not that she loves me, of course not. I don't love her either. But what can a wolf bond not do?

My wolf had claimed her, I hadn't. And somehow, I tell myself it's to punish her, but does my wolf feel the same?

“You will learn control,” I say, calm, almost clinical. “Or it will learn for you.”

She shakes her head. “I... I don’t understand!” 

I notice her smile is no longer there. The closer I had come to her, the more the walls she thought she had put up, began to crumble. I understand that. I understand because it's happening to me, but I'm too collected to even show it. 

“You will,” I say. Then I pause, and for the first time, I see her eyes widen. The glorious green. I'm taken aback by what I see in the reflection of her eyes. I see myself in them, and I know she sees it. The darkness in me, not just in the wolf, but in the man I still pretended to be. 

“It’s not just me,” I whisper, leaning close, affirming what she has seen. “It’s us. You and me. Together. Whether you want it or not.”

She shifts away from me, and again. 

My smile widens ever so slightly. “Good,” I say. “Resistance makes the bond stronger.”

I walk away from the bed, and my wolf screams at me, tugs violently at my chest, but I pay it no heed. I will make her hate me, I'm sure she already does. Then, I'll kill her.

"You'll start to receive lessons on how to tame your wolf," I say, walking towards the door. Hand on the knob, I spare her one final glance. This one's for my wolf. "Don't worry, I'll be your teacher."