LOGIN~Valerie~
Another imposing guard stands at the tinted glass entrance. Not as tall as the others, but bulkier. His eyes scan us, then pause on me, the scowl on his face deepening. Another sergeant. “The bar isn’t open until seven p.m., girl.” His low hiss booms in the air, echoing in the breeze. “She’s with me. Our new waitress,” Rikky states before I can even open my mouth. He groans and nods, eyes trailing over me again. He opens the door, and we enter the building. I enter behind Rikky, my steps faltering as a low whistle rings out behind me, but I don’t stop. My eyes take in the layout as we move further into the room. The strong smell of alcohol, sour and bitter, mixes with hanging smoke, smelling like fuel and metal. Biker men are scattered around the room, huge, bulky, and scary, fat cigars clenched in their mouths. All wearing their patches over their outfits. Glasses of cold beer dot the wide, long tables on the lower floor away from the bar. Red lights flicker in the corners. Slow country music plays from the upper center of the room, a guy bent over the machine, the music rising, cutting, then rising again. “Valerie,” a young, familiar voice calls behind me. I turn to see Levi, one of the sergeants who accompanies Ronan to my house during his monthly visits. He grins, dimples deepening, almost disarming him, making me forget that he’s just as dangerous as every man in this room. His unruly dark hair sways with his steps as he stops before me, hands dipped into his pants pockets. “What y’all doing here, girl?” My lips spread as I shrug. “Got a job here.” His eyes widen. “Oh. You’re the new waitress. Damn.” His eyes run over me, and he licks his lips. “Welcome to the family, girl.” I smile, but my lips freeze as an eerie coldness seeps through my skin, slow and burning. My shoulders draw back on instinct. My breath stutters, then settles into a slow, heavy rhythm. I know that feeling. I’m too well-versed with it. It’s only one person who makes my wolf stir without warning. Ronan. His scent hits me before I even find him. The first breath of winter, fresh, chilly air. Sharp. Cold. Commanding. With a bit of simmering warmth, almost fur-like. It makes me want to sink into it. I drag the scent deep into my lungs and press my lips together. My mouth waters. My tongue flattens against the roof of my mouth. Levi mumbles something about seeing me later, but I don’t even listen. My head snaps back, and I see him. He stands by the bar counter, tall and muscular, broad shoulders, emotionless, cold eyes. His hair fans his neck, dark and thick. My palms itch to slip through it, to know if he’d like it. His eyes trail over me, slow and deliberate, burning and ripping. My pussy clenches hard, my eyes devouring his presence, sliding down his dangerously thick forearms, the tattoos wrapping around both arms. I wonder if they extend beneath his clothes or if that’s all there is. His waist, slim and hard even beneath the leather vest. Thick, strong thighs clad in tight jeans. “Alpha,” I whisper softly, bowing. It’s so fucking low, barely even to my ears. My nails curl into my palms, digging in. I glance at Rikky beside me before returning my gaze to him. “Valerie,” he grunts. Deep. Gravelly. From his throat. I gasp. The sound rips off my tongue before I can stop it. My lips hang open, my eyes widening just a little. His gaze shifts to Rikky, a flash of irritation glinting quickly before it disappears. His eyes grow cold again, and he turns away, dismissing me. Again. As usual. But it doesn’t hurt this time. Even as I hurry my steps to match Rikky, I still steal a glance at his back. Rikky opens a door in the corner behind the bar station, and we both enter. “Fuck, that was intense,” she groans, turning to me. “Your Alpha is one scary man. I can’t ever get used to it. I don’t even know who’s scarier between him and my dad.” My lips twitch, but I don’t say a word. I can’t, not with my heart racing like it’s about to explode, not with the dampness growing in my cunt. I don’t think I can breathe without moaning right now. She shakes her head. “Sometimes I think it’s better to quit here and go back to my pack home to work instead. There, I’d get special treatment as the Alpha’s daughter, not scrambling around here in the neighborhood pack.” I shrug, swallowing. We walk down the narrow hallway, passing several doors. Three doors, then we stop at the fourth. Rikky knocks, then opens it when a voice answers from inside. The man who gave me the job sits behind a desk. The room is small and dim, the window closed, with only a small strip of light illuminating it. The club manager. “Gunnar,” Rikky nods, then gestures to me. Gunnar glances at me, then closes the file on his desk. “Valerie,” he breathes slowly, leaning back in his chair. His eyes remain dull. Neutral. “Welcome on board. I hope your stay lasts longer than your friend’s here. But the only way that happens is if you face your duties and don’t trespass where you’re not allowed.” He pauses, then adds, “I don’t care whether you spread your pussy for customers or whatever, as long as you don’t slack off during work hours. What you do after that is none of my business. Are we clear?” “Yes,” I manage softly. He nods. “Good. Rikky, show her the storeroom. Let her arrange the usual amount of alcohol crates and wipe the dust off the bottles. The bartender will carry them himself.” We nod and leave the office, following Rikky back toward one of the doors we passed earlier. She opens a door, the one opposite the door leading into the bar. A tiny, dusty smell brands the air. It’s big. Widely big. Alcohol crates line the walls. A small window opens high above. “Here,” Rikky gestures to the drinks. “Use the stool and wipe the dust off the bottles, one by one, at least four crates. That’s the towel. When you’re done, wash it.” I eye the stool and the ladder-like lines around its legs. “I’ll be in the bar arranging things. Come get me if you need anything.” “Yeah,” I mumble, but my mind is already running wild. The moment the door slams shut behind her, I fall back against it. My body shakes. My thighs clench, pressing together. Fuck. I can still hear Ronan calling my name in that deep, pussy-dripping voice. Heat pools in my core. Scorching. Consuming. I can’t wait. I can’t take this. My heart races as my hands crawl over my thighs, trembling. No one would find me. They’re all too busy. Just a release, to relieve myself. I’ll go crazy if I don’t. I need to touch myself before I do something stupid. I can’t help myself, and I hope he knows, that he smells it from a distance. And that I’m not letting go until I have his huge, thick member buried deep inside my hole. Yes. I’ll take him over and over. Even when I’m too drained, I’d still take him. I drag down my shorts, sliding them over my thighs. I exhale slowly. Heat spreads through my belly, suffocating, curling low and tight. My scent thickens, sweet and wrong. It’s too much. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before. Maybe it’s because he’s here, close enough to walk in on me at any second. But I don’t care. I pray he watches.~Valerie~ Evander doesn’t give me a single chance to move. I try to scramble back, my boots sliding on the floor as I look for any way to hide, any way to get away from the predatory look in his eyes. But he’s too fast. He crosses the room in three long, terrifying steps that make the concrete floor groan. Before I can even pull enough air into my lungs to scream, he’s on me. He slams his heavy body into mine with a force that knocks the wind out of me. I feel my hips hit the sharp, hard edge of Ronan’s desk, and the wood digs into my lower back, pinning me there. The heat coming off him is like standing next to a furnace. It’s thick and overwhelming, and it sends a shock through my body that makes my knees turn to water. He doesn't touch my face. He doesn't try to be sweet or offer me any comfort. His hands, large and rough, grab the bottom of my leather skirt and yank it up in one violent push. He bunches the fabric around my waist, leaving me completely exposed to the cool air of
~Valerie~I push into Ronan’s office, and the heavy click of the door closing behind me feels like a trap snapping shut. The sudden silence is jarring. It swallows the thumping bass and the drunken shouts from the bar downstairs, leaving me in a room that feels far too big and far too quiet. It’s dark in here, the only light coming from the moon bleeding through the window and the glow of the hallway under the door.My heart sinks into my stomach. It’s empty. I wanted him to be here so bad that my chest actually hurts. I stand there for a second, just breathing, before I force my legs to move toward the massive desk. I set the ice bucket down on the dark wood. The silver handle is freezing, biting into my palm, and the ice cubes clink loudly, like a sharp, lonely sound in the stillness. The bottle of liquor is heavy, sitting deep in the ice. I know I should go. I should turn around, walk out, and go back to serving drinks to men I don't care about. But I can’t. My boots feel like they
~Valerie~I walk slowly, my boots clicking against the hard, stained concrete. The air in the pub is thick, heavy with the smell of road dust, engine grease, and the sharp scent of men. I could easily take the wide path around the tables, but I don't. I walk straight toward them, cutting through the space where the air feels tight, making the hair on my arms stand up.As I pass, I let my shoulder brush within inches of Ronan’s leather jacket. I don’t stop. I don’t even slow down. I just give a low, short greeting, barely saying hello, while I secretly pull a deep breath into my chest.God, the scents.It hits me right in the throat. Ronan is all winter and steel, a cold, sharp freshness that cuts through the stinking bar air. And Evander... he’s the woodsmoke, deep and earthy, like a forest burning in the middle of the night. It’s wild. It’s everything I’ve been starving for during these six long, empty days."Alphas," I murmur.Behind me, I hear two low, deep grunts. They don’t use w
~Valerie~I step out of the taxi, the gravel crunching under my boots as I watch the car speed off into the distance, its taillights bleeding into the gray Reno twilight. It’s the sixth day. Six days since the roar of the Killer Wolves faded into the dust, leaving me in this empty silence.Will they come back tomorrow morning? Or will I have to wait until the sun sets again? Maybe the day after? I don’t understand how their runs work, the time calculation, the danger, the laws they follow, but I know the ache in my chest is becoming a more painful. I miss them. It’s a pathetic, shameful thing to admit, even to myself. I miss the way Ronan’s eyes burn through me like cold steel, making me feel pinned to the floor. I miss the way Evander looks at me, like I’m something he wants to take apart just to see how I work. I miss being seen.I turn and walk into the house, the air inside feeling stagnant and lonely. The silence is heavy, a reminder of the void they left behind. I make my way up
~Valerie~I wake up, and the first thing I notice is that the sheets feel like sandpaper against my skin. Every tiny thread in the fabric feels sharp, grating against me like it’s trying to peel my skin off. My body is hot, not just a normal fever, but a deep, rolling heat that coils in the pit of my stomach. I feel sick, my head spinning as I stare at the ceiling."What the hell," I murmur, my voice sounding thick and strange in the quiet room.I try to sit up, looking around my bedroom, but the movement makes everything worse. Even the air moving across my skin feels like it’s too much. The feeling of the blankets bunched around my waist burns me, making my skin prickle with a sensation I can't describe. I need to get out of these clothes. I need to get away from these sheets.I stand up, my legs feeling like they’re made of steel, and stagger into the bathroom. I don’t even bother turning on the light. I just shrug off my nightie, letting it fall in a heap on the tiles, and step in
~Valerie~I walk down the stairs, my legs feeling heavy and unsteady. My body is still reacting to what I just did, still oozing from that release in the offices upstairs. I can feel the dampness against my skin, a constant reminder of how I just lost control. I’m clutching the sweeping brush and the rag in my hands, my fingers wrapped tight around the wooden handle as if it’s the only thing keeping me from floating away. Every step I take down into the quiet hallway feels like I’m drowning deeper, and deeper into the secret I’m hiding.I reach the bottom of the stairs and head toward the supply rail. I return the brush and the rag exactly where I picked them from, making sure they’re lined up just right. I don’t want anyone having a reason to complain about my work. I spend a moment smoothing down my turtleneck and wiping my palms on my shorts, trying my best to make sure my body doesn’t give me away. I check my reflection in the glass of the dark window, adjusting my hair and biting







