Chapter 6 : revenge

Sloane

I woke up to bright sunlight stabbing my eyes the moment they snapped open. Logan sat beside me, holding a tray of food, a cunning smile on his face.

“Good morning, angel,” he said, setting the tray on the bed. I looked at it: toasted bread, sunny-side eggs, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

I sat up straighter, hands gripping the sheets.

“What is this?”

“What does it look like?” His tone changed a little. “Breakfast in bed.”

“How do I trust you haven't poisoned it?”

He chuckled, picked up a piece of toast and chewed. I watched him slowly, eyes trailing down to his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Why does everywhere feel hot?

I looked away, then back at the food. This time I sat properly, hands on the tray as I picked up a toast and bit into it; the crunch filled the room.

“See,” he said. “Not poisoned. I don't want to kill you, little one.”

“Oh, please. Would you stop with the nickname? I have a name, you know.”

“A boring one. I prefer calling you, little one.”

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the chocolate. After what felt like hours of eating while he watched me, I climbed off the bed.

“Where is everyone?”

“Out,” Logan said, relaxing into the chair. I narrowed my eyes on him. There was something about him that kept me on my toes.

“Dean went out to sort a few things, and Hunter is… busy,” he smirked, a devilish glint in his eye.

“Whatever.” I picked up my phone and tried to get a signal, but it completely turned off.

“Shit. My phone's low,” I said, throwing my hand toward him.

“What?”

“Your phone, dummy.”

He placed his phone into my hands and I dialed Kris’s number. It rang on the second call. Finally.

“Hey, Kris, it’s me, Sloane—”

The call was cut off.

I tried again and again, desperate to get through. On my last attempt he gave a blunt “no.” It was as if he didn't want to hear a word from me. Logan sat in the chair, arms crossed across his chest, watching me attentively.

“What?!” I asked in frustration.

Great. Just great. Kris had blocked me, he wouldn't talk to me. Not even a single response.

“Are you done?” he asked, and I handed him back his phone.

I flopped onto the bed and let out a light sigh. Everything was just going against me.

I have no family and I'm in a different pack, somewhere I had no idea about.

“This is Moonlight Pack,” Logan said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“You're worried and scared because you don't know where we are. This is the Moonlight Pack, uptown Manhattan.”

How did he—

“Yeah, your expressions are easy to read.”

I narrowed my eyes on him.

“Would you tell me about it now?”

“About what?”

“What happened yesterday, and why you tried to run away.”

“That's none of your business.” I stood and wandered around the room.

“Okay,” he shrugged. “So you wouldn't mind if I told Dean that you tried to escape yesterday, right?”

My eyes shot wide in alarm and the next minute I was beside him, pleading.

“Don't!”

He smiled, a smile that made my stomach drop in a good-as-fuck way. I hated how my body reacted to him.

Fuck this. It was probably nothing.

“I don't know,” I started. “One minute I caught my boyfriend with my best friend, and the next minute I'm kneeling before the pack, getting called names and thrown out. I don't know how my life turned upside down in a few minutes.”

He sat still, hand to his chin, eyes on me.

What was going through his head? For a moment I wanted to know. There was an urge, a pull toward him, funny, since I don't have a wolf.

So I don't feel a mate’s bond.

But not with Logan, no.

It felt like my insides were satisfied, just having him near.

“Then you were definitely set up. We'll need to get to the root of it, and then you can have your old life back,” he said.

“I know, but right now my life is as good as dead.”

“No, it's not,” he said offhandedly. “You're still here. Still beautiful.”

My breath hitched; swallowing suddenly became hard. Why does a single word from him make the hairs on my body stand?

“You think I'm beautiful?” I asked, and he moved closer, so close our hands touched.

It felt electric like something genuine passing from him to me.

I stepped back immediately, creating space between us. My heart hammered so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest.

I could smell him, the scent felt too sharp.

“I don't trust you,” I said after a few silent beats.

“You have to. My brothers and I are the only ones who can help you right now. Don't you want your revenge?”

“I do,” I said lowly.

“Then agree to be with us. We'll give you the revenge you want, little one.”

It was easier said than done. I'd never been with three men before. One was a hassle—three? Three brothers? I'd have to give them everything.

Logan moved closer, his hands circling mine, lips hovering near mine. I closed my eyes just enough to inhale his scent: a certain grey in his eyes matching his red hair.

Instinctively, I licked my lips; I smelled something else in the air. I tried to steady my breath, to keep calm, but I couldn't.

Suddenly the door opened. Dean and Hunter walked in and I turned and stood up in a hurry.

“Has she agreed?” Dean asked. Logan's eyes stayed on me. I backed up until my back hit the wall.

They closed in, all three of them with intoxicating scents and dangerous features. I didn't have a wolf, yet why did they all seem to want me, and why did I seem to want them?

“What do you want?” I asked, lifting my chin so they couldn't see I was shaking.

Hunter stepped closer. “You… for ourselves,” he said, voice low and possessive. The look in his eyes was serious, matched by the grin that made my heart flutter.

“For three months.” His words landed like a verdict.

“No freaking way.” I snapped the denial, but they simply closed in, patient and serious. A hand found my neck, claiming, while the three of them loomed over me like predators circling prey.

“You've got a real mouth on you, don't you?” Dean murmured. “Those are our terms.”

“It’s you or nothing, little one,” Logan pressed.

My throat tightened; swallowing became nearly impossible. Dean shoved a paper and pen into my hands. I glanced down: a contract binding me to them for three months. Three months to let them ruin me.

And if I'm honest, a dangerous part of me wanted exactly that.