by Lola Glass
“Henley Clark.” His voice was a low, sexy growl. He was young, probably only twenty-three or twenty-four. Being twenty-one myself, that was the perfect age for what had to be the sexiest man I’d ever seen.
Except every fiber of my being told me he was the one in charge of the New York Pack.
And Alphas were assholes. Every single one of them.
I shook myself mentally. Regardless of this dude’s looks or my attraction to him, I needed to get away before he realized what I was and tried to take advantage of me for it.
“Let go of me.” I tried to sound threatening. Next to the Alpha and his six and a half feet of muscle, my skinny 5’8” probably looked about as tough as a pencil. I rated my odds of being let go about -10 to 1.
Surprisingly enough, he released me and stepped back.
“My name is Roman Ellis. I’m the Alpha here.”
Well thanks for stating the obvious, Roman.
“Great. I’m just going to head back to my pack in Washington now, if you don’t mind.” I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb and took a step backward. Somehow, I forgot that stairs were leading down behind me. My ankle twisted as my foot hit the top step, and I fell backward.
Roman caught me around the waist, the muscles on his arm tight against the small of my back. I wouldn’t have believed an arm could be a turn-on up until that moment, but damn.
“I can’t let you leave.” He didn’t sound sorry about it, his eyes falling to the tattoo on my collarbone. Mine narrowed at the gigantic Alpha.
“I don’t remember giving you permission to make decisions for me, Alpha.” I stepped away from his grip without thanking him for saving me from a broken ankle.
“Come to my pack’s headquarters. We’ll reach an agreement that works for both of us, Wolfsbane.”
He had no problem standing up to me.
Pencil, meet boulder.
I wished I was the boulder.
“Can I get a please, at least?”
The Alpha rolled his eyes and captured my wrist in his hand, pulling me in the direction I’d just come from. His eyes darkened as they fell on the wonky ring and pinky knuckles on my right hand. Like my scars, they were a trophy from surviving hell.
“Please.”
We were already walking when he said it, but for some reason it still satisfied me.
TWO
I’d never heard of a pack having a “headquarters” before, and I’d seen more than my fair share of packs. Sure, most packs had a pack mansion or at least an Alpha House, but a headquarters?
When I saw the place, I knew why they didn’t call it their pack mansion. It was a freaking skyscraper.
“You own this place?” I looked at the monstrous Alpha with a whole new perspective. He wore a gray hoodie with black joggers and a baseball cap, for crying out loud. No way was he the kind of guy who could own a skyscraper.
“Yup.”
Roman nodded at the receptionist on the bottom floor. I followed him past the first elevator, further into the building. When we reached a second elevator, he pressed a button and we waited for it together. The silence wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.
And I was still having a really hard time connecting this giant in a hoodie to the kind of rich guys willing to tip me four hundred dollars to hear the story behind my tattoo. Particularly because Roman let go of me when I asked him to earlier.
I’d met more than enough Alphas to know that wasn’t something a powerful man would do. He must’ve been playing me.
The elevator dinged, and we both stepped inside. When I saw that the buttons went all the way to forty-five, my eyebrows shot into my forehead.
Forty…freaking…five…floors.
What could one pack possibly need forty-five floors for? I’d never seen a pack with more than two hundred people. That was only four people per floor, and a floor was what, 10,000 square feet? 20,000? Seemed a bit ridiculous to me, considering I lived in a studio apartment with a grand total of three hundred.
“How many people are in your pack?” I asked. It was better to know than wonder, particularly if I needed to make a run for it.
“Twelve-hundred.” I felt his eyes on me as he said it. Hiding my shock was challenging, but I kept my expression neutral. Escaping twelve-hundred werewolves would be a challenge, to say the least.
We moved slowly from the bottom floor to the very top. People came in and out of the elevator as it rose and stopped and rose some more, shooting me and Roman strange looks. We both ignored them.
When the elevator finally dinged again, I was feeling a little nauseous. A pack with this many people and this much money would be willing to do absolutely anything to force me to join them. I’d finally gotten my freedom, and one single work meeting—one single day shift—was going to cost me everything.
It was just my luck to get a job working for a mother-freaking werewolf.
I followed Roman to a room just outside the elevator. It was a fairly big office, and the fact that it was on the top of the skyscraper told me it belonged to him. No Alpha would have an office below someone else’s.
Two of the walls were made entirely of windows, and the other two were painted a nice neutral gray
Dropping into the sleek black loveseat against the wall, I folded my arms over my chest. The only other furniture in the room was a monster-sized desk and chair that must’ve been custom-made to fit the ginormous Alpha. Werewolves could grow a bit bigger than humans with Alpha power pumping through them like steroids, but he could legitimately pass as a giant.
“What do you want from me?”
Roman’s gaze did things to me that I refused to acknowledge. My attraction to him didn’t matter; he was an Alpha.
“What do you think I want?”
“I think I’ve been controlled by enough men to know when someone is trying to get information from me. Tell me what you want or let me go. Either way, let’s not bother with the bullshit.”
Beating around the bush was a pointless pastime. Swearing at the Alpha, pissing him off, that was what would get me somewhere.
Roman stayed on his feet, leaning up against the wall. He didn’t need to sit down behind that gigantic desk to look like he was in charge; the guy radiated strength and authority. Not Alpha power though, which was actually a bit impressive.
Most Alphas had a hard time keeping the power they used to control their wolves from spilling out constantly. If Roman Ellis was really the Alpha over twelve-hundred wolves and he was staying in control of his power, he had some serious willpower.
“People call you ‘Wolfsbane’.” I managed not to flinch at the title.
That name was the excuse people had used to abuse and mistreat me for years, and I still wasn’t used to hearing it. I doubted I’d ever be used to it.
“They say that whichever pack you belong to is immune to the nightly pull of their wolves.”
Werewolf legend had some things right, but humans were missing a huge chunk of being one of us. Some called it the curse of our kind, others just thought of it as the shit that came with being a werewolf.
Every evening around ten or eleven, werewolves lost control of their ability to choose their form. They shifted into a wolf and stayed that way until sometime early in the morning. That loss of control happened to every werewolf.
Except me. And whatever pack I was a part of.
“So?”
I neither confirmed nor denied his statement. I was a pretty good liar, but the word had been tattooed across my collarbone for a reason. Lying seemed like a waste of effort at that point.
“Is it true?”
“What does it matter? You’re going to force me to join you regardless.”
Following my lead, Roman also didn’t confirm or deny the statement. Any sane Alpha would want my gift for his pack, and I understood that. I just wasn’t willing to trade my freedom and happiness for them to have it.
“Why did you get the word tattooed on y
our skin if you don’t like it?” He asked, instead. My eyebrows lifted.
“You think I tattooed this on myself?” I gestured to my collarbone.
I could usually keep my emotions somewhat neutral, but I got really heated when it came to my past.
“I was eight years old when an Alpha murdered my mother and pack right in front of me and then pinned me down while some lady tattooed me. I’d never write this on my body.”
He went eerily still for a moment. I got the sense he was warring with his beastly side, though I didn’t know why. When he finally relaxed just a bit, it was to leave the room. The door slammed so hard it shook the frame.
“Now you’ve done it.” I muttered to myself, leaning back into the leathery couch cushions and closing my eyes. The furniture was softer than it looked.
I would’ve tried to escape if it was possible, but I had enough of a brain to know I’d never escape forty-five floors of shifters to do it. The human self-defense classes and YouTube videos I’d watched hadn’t taught me how to disable twelve-hundred of anything.
Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through Pinterest for a few minutes and then was overtaken by a yawn that stretched my whole face. It had been an eventful day. A few minutes passed, and then I yawned again.
If I was going to be waiting a while, I might as well get comfortable. The modern couch didn’t have any pillows or anything to cuddle up with, but I was a stomach sleeper anyway. I rolled to my belly and propped my shins up against the armrest to fit lengthwise. Lifting my head up on my arm, I scrolled for a few more minutes until my eyelids got too heavy to hold up any longer.
“You have to admit it’s impressive that she managed to fall asleep in the Alpha Male’s office.” An unfamiliar female voice mused.
A male voice rumbled a response that sounded suspiciously like,
“Everything about her is impressive.”
But that couldn’t have been right, so I forced my eyes open, tilting my head to see who was speaking. Roman stood in front of his desk beside an effortlessly pretty girl with large round glasses and dark hair pulled up in a messy ponytail.
Was that his mate?
Humans could get married on a whim, but when werewolves chose our life-partners, it was permanent.
Part of me hated the idea of the monstrous man being mated to someone who wasn’t me, but I smothered that instantly.
Why the hell should I care if he was taken?
“Hi, Henley. I’m Arla, the Alpha Female.” She gave a tentative smile.
I didn’t return her greeting. I was basically a prisoner, after all, about to be forced to join their pack. Roman probably only brought his mate in to try to soften the blow. It wouldn’t work; there were nearly as many cruel women as men. They were just hurtful in different ways.
“Roman told me you’ve been forced to join other packs so they can use your unique ability.” Arla studied me. I ignored her curious gaze.
“Ability? I’d call it a curse.” There was no point in denying it anymore. None of us were questioning whether or not I was who they thought.
“Well, it would be great for our pack.” Arla paused. “We’ll let you walk out of here right now if you want.”
Did she just…
What?
All I could do was blink at her for like a solid thirteen seconds.
“Just like that?”
It was way too good to be true.
“Sure.” Arla shrugged. “You’re a person. We’re people. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you’ve been in our territory for what, six months now?”
I wasn’t going to confirm or deny that either in case it was part of the ‘but’ I knew was coming. There was always a ‘but’.
“I can leave?” I checked again, looking to the male Alpha.
“You can.” He confirmed. “But we’re prepared to offer you a deal that you might want to stay for.”
Were the leaders of this pack actually being nice to me?
What in the actual hell?
“I’m just going to go. Thanks, guys.” I saluted the Alphas, grabbing the doorknob. As I swung the door open, Arla called out,
“Three hundred thousand dollars.”
I paused, door open and face turned to the elevator. My chance at freedom.
“You join our pack for one year and we pay you three hundred thousand dollars. That’s the offer we came up with in twenty minutes. Give us a little more time and I’m sure we’ll be able to shake the pack down for at least twice that much.” She paused. “Plus, you can live for free in our skyscraper, with security better than anything on the market and a thousand werewolves willing to give just about anything to keep you in the pack.”
I stared out into the hallway.
It would be so easy to go. They told me they wouldn’t stop me, and didn’t seem like they were messing with me.
But no one had ever offered me anything to be a part of their pack. They always forced me, sometimes in cruel and painful ways.
There was no way my old Alpha had given up on looking for me. I knew he’d find me eventually, but if he found me while I was in this pack’s headquarters I’d at least have a fighting chance of retaining some semblance of freedom
On top of the safety, I didn’t have much as far as savings went. New York was expensive. If I stayed for the year, the pack’s money would go a long way toward securing my freedom permanently.
“What’s the catch?” I finally turned back to face the Alphas. Roman was stood so stiffly you would’ve thought the guy was carved from wood. Arla just looked relaxed and confident. She knew she was offering me something I’d have a hard time turning down.
“The people putting the money out want to make sure their investment is safe, so you wouldn’t be able to leave the skyscraper without an enforcer.”
Enforcers were the Alpha Pair’s right-hand men and women, usually trained to fight at least somewhat well.
Well… one guard wasn’t so bad. I could always throw him between myself and Ledger when the Colorado Alpha showed his demonic face. Having some buff dude or chick at my back wouldn’t kill me.
“Fine. Deal.” I paused. “I want the six hundred thousand though.”
Arla grinned.
“I knew you weren’t an idiot. Take your shirt off and let’s add you to the pack.”
Most Alphas would induct someone new into their pack with a swipe of their claws across the werewolf’s back. Backs were the easiest because people didn’t tend to show them that often, and the scars left by an Alpha mark weren’t pretty.
When I’d gotten away from my last Alpha, I’d started wearing tops designed to show off my back as a symbol of my freedom. The scars that crisscrossed over my skin made me feel more beautiful, not less.
An idea occurred to me. It was a little crazy, but there were worse things than crazy.
“I want you to mark me on my arm.” I announced.
Both Alphas stared at me like I was insane. They waited for my reasoning, but I wasn’t about to bear my soul to these strangers. It’d be better if they believed I didn’t have a soul. Maybe that would keep them from trying to take advantage of me.
Wearing this Alpha mark on my arm would be a constant reminder that I was still somewhat free. I was choosing to be a part of their pack. That may have been a minor detail, but it felt like a large step forward for me.
“You do know Alpha markings are permanent, right?” Arla checked.
I rolled my eyes, certain I was better acquainted with that fact than just about anyone else on the entire planet. Most werewolves never switched packs, but if they did, they’d do it once or twice in their lifetime. I’d been in 38 different packs in my twenty-one years of life.
“Yep. Let’s get going.” I tugged my top over my head, feeling Roman’s eyes on me as I did so. I wore a simple but cute black sports bra with thin overlapping straps, but still felt a bit weird standing in front of the couple in my bra and jeans. Particularly because there was money sticking out
of my bra like I was a freakin stripper.
For a mated guy, Roman sure stared at me a lot. I hoped he’d stop because I didn’t feel like getting in a catfight. Female werewolves were the most possessive beasts in the world.
After male werewolves, that is.
Arla walked around to my back and I pulled my hair up in a quick bun at the nape of my neck with the hair-tie on my wrist.
“Whoa.” She gaped at the skin. My whole back was pretty much one massive scar at that point. 38 Alphas meant 76 markings—77 if you counted the one I’d given myself when I escaped Ledger’s pack. Which I did, because that son of a bitch hurt like hell.
“I’ve been a hot commodity since eight years old. Alphas kill for hot commodities.” I forced my tone to stay flat. I was adept at shoving my emotions away and locking the box up tight instead. A life like mine didn’t have room for feelings.
“Which Alpha should we pay off for taking you?” Roman asked.
“You’re looking at her.”
“Wait, you removed yourself from your pack? Isn’t that supposed to be the most painful thing ever? And can’t it kill you?” Arla shot rapid-fire questions at me.
“Well it wasn’t pleasant, if that’s what you’re asking. Wasn’t as bad as staying in the pack would’ve been.”
I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to sense the silent conversation going on between the two Alphas. Alphas were connected enough to speak into each other’s minds when they wanted to, especially when they were mated.
“Let’s get this over with already.” I broke the tense silence. There was a long pause before Arla sighed heavily.
“Alright.”
The Alpha marking from a werewolf’s current pack had power behind it, so I knew Arla would have no problem finding the scar I’d personally added to the masterpiece of bad memories on my back. It was worse than a lot of the other ones since slicing your own back in a certain position wasn’t easy.
“Are you ready?”
“Go for it.”
I felt the air around me charge with the energy that accompanied a werewolf’s shift. It was much less strong than it would’ve been had Arla shifted her entire body into wolf form, so I knew she’d only shifted her hand. My fists clenched as I waited for the pain, and sure enough, it erupted like fire as her claws met my skin.
