Marked By A Rogue: The Rogue Hybrid Book Three

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Marked By A Rogue: The Rogue Hybrid Book Three Page 9

by K. J. Padgett


  “As if anyone in this town would notice!” He griped as I slammed the door in their angry faces.

  17

  Aella

  The town bar was a shack. Six trucks were parked in the gravel patch around the front and sides of the building, and if my hearing was correct, there was a live band playing tonight, and they were very bad.

  Tara and I paused at the head of the pack as we neared the bar. It was a wooden structure with a caving roof and a neon sign that said ‘The Outsiders’ on it.

  “This is going to be so much fun,” she grinned from ear to ear beside me.

  “I wonder how long it’ll take every man in that bar to ask you to dance?”

  She winked at me. “And I’ll say yes to all of them”

  I couldn’t hide the surprise on my face. “I thought you were into...”

  “I am,” she cut me off with a shrug. “But free drinks are free drinks.”

  I snorted. Horrible, wicked thing. These poor townies had no clue what was coming for them. They were all the Three Little Pigs and Tara was the Big Bad Wolf in a pair of tight whitewash jeans that showed off her ass and a grey sweater that hugged her hourglass curves.

  “Let’s do this,” Seraphim flexed his biceps like he was Thor or something, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I didn’t think there would be many women here. This place looked rugged and scary, determinedly male.

  Inside, the smell of smoke, beer, and sweaty bodies assaulted my nose as I surveyed the place.

  There was a small bar with six stools, three tables along the far-right wall, a stage with a live band whose lead singer was most definitely drunk out of his mind, and one pool table in a back room. The décor was nowhere near clean or glamourous, but it had a charm that served its purpose, and the few patrons in attendance looked as if this were their second home.

  Of course, as soon as we walked in, all eyes swung our way and stuck there like glue.

  I couldn’t really blame them. Not only were we five brand new faces, but we’d stumbled into a locals-only spot, and – not to toot my own horn – but lycans were known for their supernaturally good looks.

  To my surprise, there were a few females in this bar. One of them was a bartender with short blonde hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders, the others were patrons nursing beers at a table together. All three of them couldn’t stop gaping at the males behind me.

  My wolf bristled at the look of lust in their eyes. Lust for my mate.

  Not mine. Not mine. Not mine. I repeated the mantra in my head, hoping it’d stick after a while. I’d told him to find someone else. Maybe one of these women would distract his focus from me.

  Just as I thought it, a warm hand pressed against my lower back, and Wilder’s large body stepped dangerously close to mine.

  “I don’t like the way they’re looking at you,” he growled low in my ear.

  A shiver ran up my spine, one I knew he felt since his fingers were currently glued there.

  “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he rumbled.

  I stared up at him, noting the way his eyes darkened and narrowed on the local men. His muscles spasmed the slightest bit before I put my hand flat against his chest. He looked down at me.

  “They’re just human men. Keep it cool. If it makes you feel better, I’m not interested in any of them.”

  His muscles relaxed slightly, but that tension in his eyes didn’t ease as we made our way to a free table beside the ogling brunettes. And damn it all if I didn’t catch their eyes and give them each a death glare that could have warded off a mountain lion.

  Wilder’s fingers traced my spine as he leaned into my ear from the seat beside me. “Don’t be jealous. They’re just human women. If it makes you feel better, I’m not interested in any of them.” His warm breath in my ear made me gasp in toe-curling delight, but in the same moment, I wanted to bite him. He deserved it for using my own words against me.

  He chuckled and leaned back in his chair as if he knew exactly the effect he’d had on me and was very pleased with himself for it. Prick.

  “I’ll go get us a pitcher of beer,” Seraphim said, deliberately ignoring our little quips at each other. “Looks like some of us could use it.”

  “Looks like some of us won’t need it,” Tara waggled her eyebrows, looking like a cat who ate the goldfish.

  Sure enough, a man in his early thirties with emerald green eyes and a thin beard was walking our way.

  Wilder moved his arm from my back and looped it around my waist, pulling me closer to his side, making a clear statement, and to my surprise, the stranger’s eyes did flicker over that touch before he settled his focus on Tara. Maybe Wilder was right to be a little possessive.

  As it was, my heart had spiked to an alarming level as my skin tingled under Wilder’s touch. He was lethal, this male. So, so, dangerous.

  “Hey there,” the man said. “You all new around here? I can’t remember seeing you before.”

  Tara turned her one-hundred-watt smile on the poor bastard, and I watched his face slacken in amazement before settling back into an easy grin. “Just passing through. This seemed like a cool place, so we thought we’d stop in.”

  He bobbed his head enthusiastically. “Best spot in town. Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart? Anything you like.”

  I had to hide my face behind Wilder’s shoulder so the guy wouldn’t see me laughing. Tara was too good.

  “Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” I heard her say. “I’ll take a martini, dirty.”

  I listened to the guy’s footsteps as he walked off to the bar, and finally let the giggles loose.

  “Too easy,” Tara snickered.

  I came up for air, a broad smile on my face. “You’re so wrong for that.”

  But Tara wasn’t looking at me anymore, that twinkle in her eye was focused solely on Wilder. She nudged Jamie with her elbow. “Come on honey, I see a better table closer to the band.”

  The two of them got up and scampered off before I could stop them.

  My brow furrowed. “What the hell was that about?”

  Wilder shrugged. “I like what you just did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You touched me without flinching or pulling away. It was nice.”

  My mind reeled. I had done that, and I didn’t even notice it. Hiding behind him, pressing my cheek against the back of his arm, had been so natural I hadn’t thought twice about it.

  I moved back, feeling the blush rising in my cheeks. Embarrassment washed over me in a barreling wave.

  “Don’t do that,” he pouted. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

  But I should hide from him. I should’ve tucked tail and ran like hell hounds were nipping at my heels the moment Seraphim knocked him out in the woods. Now, I couldn’t help feeling like the odds were no-longer in my favor. I was sinking, slipping as if I was caught in quicksand.

  Pulling up my big girl panties, I leveled him with a look and nearly forgot my own name. God, he was handsome. His hair was still a little damp from his shower at the motel and he was wearing a fitted black sweatshirt and jeans. His eyes tonight were startlingly blue, and sitting this close, I was sure there were galaxies swirling in them.

  “Ask me what you want to know.” My voice sounded husky to my own ears, as if I’d just been roused from a very long, very sweet dream.

  Wilder shifted in his chair, a casual smile planted on his lips. He didn’t look nervous at all. At least that made one of us. My palms were already growing clammy and he hadn’t even asked anything yet.

  “What do you do for fun?” He held up a finger as I started to throw out an easy answer. “And before you say hunting, I mean outside of work. What are your hobbies when you don’t have rogues to chase?”

  “I like to draw,” I bit my lip. I didn’t share that with many people. Drawing was something I’d done as a kid. Something that always made me feel like a weight had been lifted off my chest, and while I’d never pursued it profess
ionally, I still drew often. “And I like sparring with Tara and teaching the kids who seem interested how to properly throw a knife or connect a good punch. Other than that, I like the same things everyone else likes. Rom-coms, coffee in the morning, those super fuzzy socks I wear at night with the matching pajama pants.”

  “I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified that you teach children to throw knives and fight,” he teased.

  My lips twitched in a small smile. “What about you? Who were you before all this happened?” The this in reference meaning being attacked and turned into a lycan and meeting his mate on top of that.

  His smile dipped. That crease between his brow reappeared. Whatever his past had been, he clearly didn’t enjoy it that much. “I’m from North Carolina originally. I lived there until I graduated college and then I decided to chase a girl all the way to Idaho. We lived together for three years. She worked a job as a nurse, and I found work in construction or wherever I could pick up some extra cash. It was all going fine until she decided she’d rather be with a doctor,” he shrugged. “So, I took the hint and got the hell out of there. Took a job on a farm in Montana and that’s how I ended up here.”

  My skin prickled at the idea of him with another woman. A serious relationship. Love. That’s what he’d had for her. He’d been in love with someone else.

  The jealousy that hit me was so strong it nearly knocked the air from my lungs. I knew it wasn’t right, knew I had no claim on him, but I wanted to find that girl and ask her what the hell she was thinking to throw someone like Wilder away. For what? Money? Because she certainly couldn’t have traded up in the looks department. And from what I knew of him, Wilder was a generous, honest, kind man.

  “What was her name?” I fought to hide the growl from my voice, and I think it worked.

  “Amy,” he sighed. “But that’s old news. I’m glad she left me. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have ended up here.”

  Warmth trickled into my chest. This guy knew all the right things to say.

  “You didn’t answer the full question. What are your hobbies?”

  This time, he was the one to blush as he glanced up at me through thick lashes. “Promise not to laugh?”

  “Nope.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Of course not. Anyway, I used to collect comic books.”

  My jaw nearly fell to the table. This guy? This 6’3, two-hundred pounds of pure muscle, super-model-looking male collected comic books?

  “I knew you’d make fun of me.”

  But I couldn’t help the giggles that escaped my lips, and the more I tried to hide them behind my palm, the harder I laughed. Fortunately, he was laughing now too, those gorgeous dimples on full display.

  “It’s just...” I wheezed. “It’s just so damn adorable!”

  He folded his arms across his chest and flashed me a grin. “So, you think I’m adorable? I can work with that.”

  I rolled my eyes at him and settled down, taking a huge breath of air to fill my sore lungs.

  “I also play hockey. I’m not bad actually. I played a little in college. I wasn’t ever good enough for the pros, but I enjoy being on the ice.”

  I would bet my right arm that he was selling himself short. As a wolf, Wilder was fast and graceful, and as a man, he was strong and vigilant. I imagined he honed all those skills on the ice.

  “That’s a pretty dangerous sport.”

  He laughed. “Says the girl who hunts lycans and teaches kids how to properly throw knives.”

  Well, he had me there.

  I opened my mouth to say something else, but just then, one of the brunettes from the table near ours walked over, her eyes settled on Wilder. She rested her palms on the table, leaning forward to show off her sizable cleavage, and the look she gave him was so sultry it nearly made me blush.

  “Hi, I’m Sophie. What’s your name?”

  A small frown pulled at Wilder’s lips, but he answered anyway. “Wilder. And this is my friend, Aella.”

  The word friend sounded bitter to my ears. We weren’t friends. We weren’t lovers. We’re strangers, I reminded myself. So, there was no reason for me to feel like ripping this girl to shreds. Right?

  Sophie didn’t spare me a glance. Good thing, because if she had, she might have seen the wolf rising in my eyes.

  “I love this song!” She shouted as the band kicked up with some sort of country twang. “Do you want to dance?”

  Wilder’s head whipped to me, a look of panic flaring across his face. And damn it if I didn’t want to tell this girl he was mine, to get lost and find someone else. But he wasn’t mine. Not really.

  “Enjoy yourself,” I shrugged and loathed myself for it.

  His eyes blazed, that temper leaping to the surface. He knew I was pushing him away, right into the arms of another woman. Someone exactly like I said he should look for.

  His chair groaned as he stood, and Sophie, being about the size of a child, looked genuinely surprised at his height.

  “Fine,” he said through his teeth. “Let’s dance.”

  He walked off toward the dance floor without even looking to see if Sophie was following, and I sighed as soon as he was out of earshot. Damn it all to hell.

  “You two aren’t together?” A female voice said beside me.

  I turned to the nearest table where the other brunette sat watching her friend twirl on the dance floor.

  “No,” I said shortly.

  She snorted. “Sure looked like it. Every woman wants a man that looks at her the way he was just looking at you.”

  My stomach clenched. “Well, he’s not mine.”

  She shrugged. “Mind if I ask why? If a man that looks like that was after me, honey I’d marry him tomorrow. He abusive or something? Or married? Oh god, you’re not cousins, are you? That’s just the shittiest luck I’ve ever heard.”

  I turned toward her, planning to tell her to get lost, but I just couldn’t. There was open curiosity on her lightly freckled face, and she looked like the type to cry easily. Hell, maybe I just needed to talk to somebody, and who better than a complete stranger in a country bar?

  “He’s perfect,” I admitted. “But that’s the thing. He’s too perfect, you know? I can’t find anything wrong with him.”

  “Nobody’s perfect. Look right there,” she pointed towards him. “He has a little white scar on his chin. Maybe he’s just perfect for you.”

  But I didn’t see the scar as I stared. It was hard to watch as he spun Sophie around, his movements graceful and practiced. Their fingers brushed against each other, and Sophie pressed herself into his body, staring up at him with bedroom eyes. Something in my chest seemed to crack, the pain so intense I rubbed at it with my palm as if that would help.

  Maybe he’s just perfect for you.

  She had no idea how right she was, and yet how completely wrong.

  Mates were sacred, fate-driven, but fate had really screwed the pooch this time. I never expected to find my perfect match. I never expected to settle down at all. I wouldn’t. Not even for him.

  The girl beside me let out a little laugh. “You’ve got it bad, honey. You might as well let yourself have it.”

  I forced a smile at her. “Thanks for the advice, but I’m focusing on my career.”

  “It’s the twenty-first century. Women do it all. Who says you can’t have both? Him?”

  No, he hadn’t said that. But he was a man, and even if he was okay with my lifestyle, eventually he’d want me to change, to settle down and become a wife or a mother or both.

  The song must have ended because a tall shadow fell over me and I knew it was him without looking up.

  “Dance with me.”

  I frowned. “I don’t dance.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “You can stand on my feet.”

  I glared up at him, and indeed, that smile knocked the breath from my lungs. It was one of those full dimpled grins that he seemed to be reserving just for me.


  Behind him, Sophie stood at the bar, glaring daggers at me. It seemed the letdown hadn’t gone well.

  I lowered my voice and tried to hide the embarrassment from my face as I said, “I really don’t dance. I never have.”

  Surprise flashed in his eyes, and then that smile grew, and his hand wrapped around my arm, hauling me up.

  I struggled all the way to the dance floor, but you would have thought I was fighting a brick wall as he turned and put both of his hands on my hips. My breath caught in my throat at the electricity of that touch.

  “Put your arms around my neck,” he said.

  My breath whooshed out in a rush. “What are you doing?”

  “Teaching you how to dance.”

  The song was surprisingly slow and pretty, even if it was country, and giving in for the second time today, I did what he said and put my arms around his neck.

  His blue eyes shimmered like stars as he looked down at me and started to sway. “Just relax. Go with the music. Let your body move.”

  I tried it. I focused on relaxing my muscles one by one until I was fluid in his arms. And then my hips started to sway, following his lead as we shifted from one foot to the other.

  “See, I knew you’d be a good dancer. You’re a hunter. Fighting is like a dance too, in a way.”

  I grinned at him. He had a point, I guess. I’d just never thought of it that way before.

  I was hardly aware of anything else in the room as we moved to the song, as the chorus flowed into the next verse and I found myself moving closer, closer than I ever should have. My cheek pressed against his shoulder, and he held me tight, one arm snaking around my back until he was almost lifting me off the floor. And I was floating. It was the most surreal thing, like dancing on a cloud.

  I could feel his steady heartbeat through his shirt, and the warmth of him was so nice I let my eyes fall shut.

  It was the most relaxed I’d let myself be in... maybe ever.

  “I want to see your drawings sometime. If you’ll let me.”

  My eyes flew open. “They’re not any good, really. I’ve never let anyone look at them before.”

 

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