Chapter 6

EZRA 

"You can't be serious." I said, turning around to hide my shock. 

"I am, Ezra." Tarius said, the hearty chatter completely gone from his voice. "Our pack needs an alpha. You have been chosen." 

"I didn't save the Grim pack with the purpose of being made alpha. I refuse to accept any form of reward for my help."

Tarius shook his head, his eyes now filled with disappointment. 

"Alpha Anarion trusts no other to rule his pack except you. It'll be an honor if you accept."

"I will not. Now, leave. I have stupid papers to mark."

Tarius opened his mouth as if to argue. 

"Leave now, Tarius. I'll hate to snap your throat while I watch you die."

Fearfully, Tarius made his way out the door, and I dropped down onto my desk. 

I hated this job.

I ran a hand down my face and sat heavily, staring at the red pen in my fingers like it was a blade. For a second, I imagined plunging it into my thigh just to feel something sharp and real. 

But I was no mere mortal. Even a knife through my chest will cause little pain. Sometimes, I hated what I was. 

I turned back to the pile of scripts.

Another life. Another name. Another batch of students who thought they were smarter than their teacher.

I began marking, skimming answers that barely scratched the surface of competence. The same regurgitated nonsense. It was like these young humans didn't even attempt to try. 

All they did was party and smoke. For mortals who claimed they really loved life, they had a really deadly way of showing that. 

I was halfway through the pile when her name stopped me cold.

Jacqueline. 

The little human who had more balls than most of her kind did. I had gone to the party like always to search for my mate. 

And then, right out of the blue, this human had kissed me to prove a point. It had been surprising and unexpected, but shockingly sweet. 

I hadn't expected myself to enjoy that kiss as much as I did. But I couldn't have another repeat. 

I couldn't be distracted. 

I tried to return my attention to the paper, but the memory of her fingers against her core flashed through my mind, and I groaned as I began to have an erection. 

This couldn't be fucking happening to me. 

I had to forget her. This stupid little human had used me to get a reaction from her boyfriend. I had to forget that she had tried to use me again at the hotel where I'd taken her. 

The little human had wanted me to fuck her. And when I hadn't, she had pleasured herself right before me. And that was something I needed to forget. 

Even though it now looked like an impossible feat. 

I dropped down onto my chair again, determined to finish up her paper and move to the next. 

My pen hovered over the page. My chest tightened before I even flipped the script open.

The first question was unanswered.

The second was a mess—sentences that made no logical sense.

The third… she hadn’t even tried. Just blank space and a smudge of ink, like she’d started to write something and then scratched it out. It looked like she'd given up before even beginning.

I slammed the folder shut so hard it bent the plastic spine. My jaw clenched as I stared at her name scribbled on the corner of the paper.

This wasn’t just laziness. This wasn’t just a bad day.

It was disrespectful.

She was smarter than this. I knew she was. I’d seen it in the way she watched people, in the way she avoided my gaze like she didn’t want to be seen. 

My hands curled into fists.

I couldn't fucking do this. 

Thirty minutes later, I was at a dimly lit bar with expensive-looking patrons that drank from fancy glasses.

"I need a drink." 

"Great. What shall I serve you today?" The bartender, a boxy-looking man with a bald head, asked.

"Scotch." I snapped.

The man nodded and swiftly began to prepare my drink.

I looked around the bar until my eyes locked with those of a woman right across from it.

She was dressed in the shortest gown imaginable. And her legs looked long and endless in her high stilettos.

As our eyes met and held, her lips curled upward, and she smirked.

I chuckled, a little entertained by her open interest.

"Your drink." The bartender said, as he slid the glass of drink towards me.

I grabbed it without a word and chugged, slamming the empty glass on the counter and requesting another.

"If you keep drinking at that pace, someone might have to drive you home, and I'm here to sign up to be that person." A low feminine voice said.

I turned to find the long-legged woman beside me. She smelled like an expensive bottle of champagne.

"Well, if I thought I needed a chauffeur, I would have come here with one." 

The woman smiled slyly at me, her eyes moving over my body admiringly. 

"So, you're the kind of guy who doesn't need to be looked after." 

"You can say that." I muttered as I grabbed the second glass of scotch and downed it again.

Like many other things, the human alcohol didn't have any potent effect on me. But sometimes, if I drank fast and hard enough, I could be lucky to feel a pleasant buzz for an hour or two.

I'd never been drunk on their wine. Not even their strongest hot could produce the desired effect. So, the woman had no need to worry. I was safe.

"I like men who know how to take care of themselves." Her voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"And I love women who know what they want." My voice was now low and throaty, and the young woman was suddenly a little too close for comfort, her face inches from mine.

"Oh, I know what I want, and I am never afraid to go for it." And with that, she tried to kiss me.