Chapter Eight: Weird Wolf Cult

Dallas didn’t wait for Carter to give him a response. He reached into the car, wrapped one massive hand around Carter’s upper arm, and pulled him out. 

“No—wait, my ankle—” Carter gasped, trying to plant his good foot on the ground, but his injured leg buckled the moment he put weight on it.

Dallas caught him before he could fall, and in one smooth motion, scooped him up like he weighed nothing at all.

“Put me down!” Carter beat his fists against Dallas’s chest, which was about as effective as punching a brick wall. “I can walk! I don’t need you to—”

“You can barely stand,” Dallas said flatly, adjusting his grip so Carter was cradled against his chest. “Stop making a scene.”

“I’m not making a—” Carter’s protest died in his throat as they approached the mansion entrance and he saw people gathered around.

There were at least a dozen of them scattered across the grounds and standing near the doors. 

Men and women of varying ages, all dressed in casual but expensive-looking clothes, each one turning to watch their approach with looks of reverence that made Carter’s skin crawl.

As Dallas walked past, they bowed their heads low, getting on one knee with their eyes closed as if Dallas was some kind of royalty. 

Carter glared at them with confusion, he knew rich people were weird as heck, but he never imagined someone like this. 

“Welcome home, Alpha,” a young woman said, her head lowered respectfully.

“You have returned, Alpha,” an older man added, his tone warm with deference and affection. “We’ve been expecting you.”

A dark-haired woman stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. “Your chambers have been prepared in anticipation of your rut, as requested. We hope everything is to your liking.”

Carter’s brain short-circuited. “Your what?”

Dallas nodded to the woman. “Thank you, Miranda. I’m sure it’s perfect.”

“HELLO?” Carter shouted, looking around at all the bowing, reverent faces. “Can anyone here see that I’m being held against my will? Anyone? No? Just me? Why won’t you people call the authorities?”

They ignored him completely, their eyes trained on Dallas as though he were the only person who mattered to them.

A massive man, almost as tall as Dallas and built like a tank, emerged from the mansion’s entrance, his face breaking into a wide grin. 

He had a thick beard, with shoulders that could probably support a small car, and a presence so powerful it suggested he could snap Carter in half without breaking a sweat, yet he was all smiles.

“Welcome home, Alpha!” The man’s voice boomed, laughing heartily as he walked across the grounds and descended the steps. “I see you’ve finally got your hands on your runaway mate. Congratulations.”

Dallas’s expression softened slightly, it was the first genuine smile Carter had ever seen on his face since they were kids. “Indeed, Balfour. Thank you.”

The gentle giant Balfour shook his hand and laughed heartily, then they fell into step together, heading up the wide stone staircase toward the mansion’s entrance, while Carter realised with growing horror that they were talking like old friends.

Both of them were completely relaxed, speaking casually while they completely ignored his screams for help.

“He’s been incredibly stressful to deal with, but I am learning to tame him.” Dallas continued, glancing down at Carter with a mix of frustration and fondness. “I have no idea why the Fates would tie me to such a stubborn creature.”

“I DEMAND to be put down this instant!” Carter shouted directly into Dallas’s face.

Dallas didn’t even flinch. He only kept walking, talking calmly to Balfour as though Carter was only a mildly inconvenient piece of luggage.

“Would you like me to get some omegas to take him to your chambers? There are ways to restrain stubborn mates and make them more… cooperative.” Balfour asked, holding the door open as they passed through into a huge entrance hall. “I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.”

Carter’s eyes darted around the room, unable to believe his eyes at the sheer size of it, filled with furniture and fixings so ornate and delicate they could’ve belonged in a museum.

Then he turned to glare at Balfour, “Was that a threat? What exactly do you mean by that?” And when Balfour didn’t respond, “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

Dallas shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. It’s a full moon tonight, and for the first time in a long time, I finally have a mate to share it with.” 

His arms tightened around Carter, holding him possessively. “I would prefer to be private during our time together, no interruptions.”

“Of course, Alpha. I understand completely.” Balfour’s expression turned knowing, nodding sympathetically. “I can feel the power of the moon surging through me as well. You are most wise to sequester yourself.”

Carter stared between them, his mind reeling. “Are you people freaking nuts?! What the hell are you talking about?”

Neither of them answered.

“Let me GO!” Carter thrashed harder, earning him nothing but sore ribs from how tightly Dallas held him. “My parents are Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield, and they’re very important people!”

Or at least they used to be, Carter thought, hoping they would believe his bluff, “If you hurt me, or try to convince me to join your weird wolf cult, I’m going to make sure they find out about it. I’ll have you both prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law!”

The amusement drained from Dallas’s face and he grimaced.

His expression went dark, cold, and dangerous as they made their way through the mansion, walking past grand rooms filled with priceless artwork and antique furniture, then up a sweeping staircase, down a long hallway lined with portraits of stern-looking men and women.

Finally, they stopped in front of two massive double doors carved with intricate wolf motifs.

Dallas kicked the doors open and stepped inside, Balfour remaining in the hallway with a respectful bow.

“Your parents are one maxed-out credit card away from bankruptcy and social suicide in high society,” Dallas said quietly, his voice deadly calm. 

And even if you were right, and they did have the means to prosecute my pack, we have excellent human lawyers on our payroll,”

He smirked, a dark evil glint in his eyes. “They’ve never lost a case in their entire careers. You’re welcome to try, Carter. But once again, you will fail.”

He tossed Carter onto the bed as though he weighed nothing.

Carter bounced on the mattress, which was obscenely large and covered in dark, expensive-looking bedding, and scrambled backwards until his back hit the ornate headboard. 

His eyes darted around the room, taking in the shadowy corners, the heavy curtains, and the fireplace big enough to stand in.

Everything about this place suggested wealth and power.

Night was beginning to fall outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the room in shades of deep blue and purple.

Meanwhile Dallas stood at the foot of the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Carter’s voice got higher. “Don’t… stop that—”

His shirt hit the floor, then Dallas’s hands went to his belt.

Carter squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Oh my God, have you no shame?!”

He heard the rustle of fabric, the quiet sound of a zipper, the soft thud of pants hitting the floor. 

When Carter dared to peek through his fingers, Dallas stood before him wearing nothing but his own skin. His body was all corded muscle, bronze skin and an absolutely ridiculous physique that would’ve been impressive if Carter wasn’t currently terrified for his life.

Dallas sat down on the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip with his weight. Without warning, he reached out and grabbed Carter’s injured ankle.

Carter yelped and tried to jerk away, but Dallas’s grip was strong and he didn’t budge.

“Don’t touch me!” Carter kicked at him with his good leg, which Dallas blocked easily with his forearm.

Carter watched as he raised one eyebrow, his expression somewhere between annoyed and amused. 

He rotated Carter’s ankle carefully, his large hands surprisingly gentle as they probed the swollen joint. “If I leave this alone, it’s going to heal wrong, and you’ll never walk properly again for the rest of your life.” 

He looked up, meeting Carter’s eyes head-on. “Is that what you want?”

Carter bit his lip, hating that Dallas was right. Slowly, and reluctantly, he shook his head no.

“Good.” Dallas’s hands continued their examination, his fingers pressing against the tender skin until Carter hissed in pain. 

It was red now and a little bloody, and Carter knew by the next day it would start to bruise, and then swell. That’s when the real pain would begin. He winced, not looking forward to it at all.

“This is going to take at least a month for this to heal properly. Maybe longer, considering you decided to jump out of a second-story window like a complete idiot.” Dallas growled

“I was trying to get away from the psychopath who thinks I’m carrying his werewolf baby,” Carter shot back, still buzzing with adrenaline and fear and anger. “Forgive me for not thinking clearly.”

Dallas’s expression darkened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, his hand began to trail upward; from Carter’s ankle to his calf, then higher to his knee, his fingers leaving trails of heat on Carter’s bare skin.

“What are you—” Carter’s breath hitched as Dallas’s hand slid up his thigh, deliberate and possessive. “Stop. Stop right now—”

Dallas’s fingers found the waistband of Carter’s hospital gown, hooking into the thin fabric. His dark eyes locked onto Carter’s, intense and predatory and filled with unmistakable hunger.

“Although,” Dallas murmured, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly sound that made Carter’s traitorous body respond despite his terror, “I know a better way to make you heal faster.”

His hand moved to Carter’s waistband, tugging it loose with maddening slowness.

Carter’s heart slammed against his ribs. The room suddenly felt too hot, too small, and too dangerous to stay in for a moment longer. 

Outside the windows, the moon was beginning to rise, full and bright and enormous.

And Dallas’s eyes were starting to glow red.

“Don’t,” Carter whispered, even as his body betrayed him, responding to Dallas’s touch with a heat he desperately wished that he didn’t feel. “Please don’t—”

Dallas leaned in close, his breath hot against Carter’s ear, his naked body radiating heat like a furnace.

“It’s too late for that, mate,” he growled. “The moon is rising and you are ripe for the taking.”

Carter’s eyes darted around the room. There had to be some way to escape. There had to be!