A few seconds later, a glass clinks down in front of me. I pick it up and swirl the liquid a few times before tossing it back. When I meet the bartender's eyes, he gives me a pointed look.
Fuck you. “Another, please.” I slide my empty glass to him, and he slides it back full again. I could use a few more of these, but instead, I walk away from the bar and the judgmental eyes.
I move through the crowd, or rather, the crowd moves around me, whether consciously or not. Could be my size—I tower over almost everyone here—or perhaps my body language projects what a shit mood I’m in. Why the hell did I agree to come here?
Every conversation I overhear is a load of pretentious bullshit. Each person trying to one-up the other with tales of their family history, garnered wealth, and their most recent purchases. All trying to wow the other guests with how much money they’re able to waste on junk.
The growing strain in my neck has my shoulders tightening, tension wracking my body. The old bastard should be here tonight, not me. True to fashion, he’s using Milo’s birthday as an excuse to show off what he has but couldn’t even spare time to show up. No, he’d rather everyone else run around, doing his bidding for him.
I stand off to the side, apart from the party-goers. A few ballsy people have struck up conversations with me, and I was polite enough to oblige. Now I’m done for the night—make that the rest of the weekend. I sip my drink, relishing the burn as it slides down the back of my throat.
The day I become Alpha is the day shit will change within the pack. I want to continue the family legacy by maintaining the Alpha position; however, my father makes me question that decision every single day. He has it out for me; I know he does. As far back as I can remember, he’s done nothing but beat me into the ground and undermine every decision I’ve ever made. Nothing I do is ever good enough for him, and the older I get, the more his attitude seems to worsen. He acts like he’s threatened by me, scared of one day losing his title and the power that comes with it.
The pounding in my head grows instead of dulling like I’d hoped the alcohol would affect. The headaches are becoming more frequent, and so is the flow of alcohol. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to relax my muscles the best I can to ease the throbbing around my eyes and in the back of my skull.
“Sup, Blave?”
The familiar voice of my friend Ascher cuts across the room. Flipping open my eyes, I come face to face with his way-too-pretty mug. He looks like he just left a fashion show, dressed in a fancy suit that I know damn well cost a small fortune.
“I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Little overdressed, aren’t we?”
He smiles and sticks his arms out in front of him, glancing down at himself. “You like? It’s new—Gucci—just came out.”
“Of course it did,” I mumble, swallowing down more of my pain reducer.
“You okay?” His eyes bounce between the drink in my hand and my face.
“Yeah.” Ascher’s brow lifts, and I narrow my eyes in response, hoping he’ll take the hint and drop the issue.
“So,” he rubs his hands together, “now that you’re here, you excited for tonight?”
“Not really.”
“Come on, man. Lighten up. Its Milo’s birthday, and supposedly there’s a surprise in store for him.”
Ascher’s excitement does nothing to brighten my mood. In fact, it’s making it worse. Best friend or not, my fingers tingle to punch him in the face.
“Your scowl is going to become a permanent fixture on that beautiful face of yours, B.”
“Fuck off, Asch,” I growl.
He laughs, fueling my irritation even more. My wolf’s heavy steps match the rhythm of the zings of pain shooting down the back of my neck. My emotions are stirring his own; the combination twists into a cohesive throb that has the potential to explode if not dealt with soon. I need to get the fuck up out of here.
“Well, well, well. Blave decided to grace us with his presence. To what do we owe this honor?”
Fuck me.
I knew I should’ve left already.
There are two people in this world I loathe: my father and Catherine Banks.
“What do you want, Catherine?” Ascher’s dismissiveness only reiterates how toxic this bitch is—no one wants her around. Me more than anyone.
She slides a hand up my arm, and my stomach rolls from her touch. All the alcohol I had, before and after I arrived, is now wasted as I try to keep it from climbing up my throat.
It’s not that she’s not physically beautiful, because she is. The blue dress hugs her lean body tightly. Her blonde hair is spun high on her head, elongating her neck. Catherine is the perfect poster child, living up to her status as the daughter of an Alpha.
She can talk the talk and walk the walk with anyone and everyone. But behind her big hazel eyes lies a monster of the purest evil. She’s a bitch to everyone she deems beneath her. I’m an asshole for good reasons—Catherine has no excuse.
“Have any plans after the party? We can go back to my place,” she purrs, sliding her hand down my arm. When she goes to move it toward my chest, I snatch her wrist.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you: it’s never happening again.” I step back and drop her wrist.
The lust in her eyes disappears, her lip curling. The scent of her flaring anger burns my nose. “Deny me all you want, for now. Soon we’ll be mated, and with that comes the need for heirs. Let that sink into your thick skull.”
“Threaten me all you want. I’m still not sticking my dick in you. Find someone else.”
She bares her teeth. “So, you want me to be with another male?”
“I don’t give a shit what or who you do, but it won’t be me. Excuse me, I need a refill.”
Making my way back to the bar, I order another drink. The bartender, thankfully, doesn’t blink an eye when I ask him for a double this time. I toss the drink back and signal for another. Fuck this night and fuck everyone here.
Ascher
Damn, Blave is wound so tight it looks like he’ll explode at any moment. We’ve all watched him sway on the thread of sanity he’s holding onto. I won’t be surprised if he snaps one day. I can only hope I’m not around when it happens.
Between his father treating him poorly and Catherine holding their mating over his head like a noose tied around his neck, I’m surprised he’s kept it together this long.
A shiver rolls down my spine. The thought of Catherine touching me makes me want to take a hot shower and scrub my whole body raw until I’m bleeding.
Weaving through the masses, I head back to where Milo and Granger chat. From this far away, both appear to be hiding in the shadows of the room, as if they’re trying not to interact with anyone tonight. Jeez, what is with everyone tonight? Blave clearly wants to be anywhere but here, and now these two are acting up. It’s a freaking party. People should be more excited.
A light touch on my shoulder pulls my attention around. Ah, Beth. Coming back for more, it seems. They always do.
“Good evening. You look beautiful, as always.”
She blushes at my words, her shy smile teasing me with memories of those lips wrapped around my cock. I like Beth. I also like the fact that she’s from a different pack, which makes the time we spend together special . . . and, moreover, easier to manage. It gives me the ability to keep her at arm’s length. Can’t let her get too attached.
“Thank you. I came over to see how you’re doing. Figured I’d catch you now before all the other women here fall over themselves to get to you.”
Her voice is light and flirty, but there’s no mistaking her underlying message. “I’m doing well. Even better now that you’re here.” My grin widens at the sight of her cheeks darkening. “Tell me,” I take a step closer and lower my voice. “Is that all you wanted to ask me?”
She clears her throat, glancing around to see who is watching or listening. She’s slightly uncomfortable, but her scent tells me I’ve tur
ned her on. “Is Milo here yet? I was going to wish him a happy birthday.”
“Did you bring him a present? If not, I can tell you what he likes.”
I chuckle while tracking her tongue wetting her lips. I’ve seen the way she looks at Milo. She’s probably heard the rumors that my friends and I like to share females. I’ve been waiting on her to ask me—even though we’d turn her down—but she never does.
Rule number one: no sharing females from our pack or packs we have alliances with. We do this in case things don’t end well. It’s not uncommon for shifters to have more than one mate or partner, but given our status, we need to be cautious with the women who join in our extracurricular activities.
“I . . . uh . . .”
Leaning close to her ear, I make sure my lips brush against her. “I can smell your arousal. Is it because you’re remembering my face buried between your thighs the other night, screaming out my name, or are you picturing Milo instead?”
“Both,” she whispers, so faintly, I’m not sure she meant to say it out loud. I pull back and stare into her eyes, her pupils enlarging from the images I helped conjure in her mind.
“If you find yourself unaccompanied at the end of the evening, I may be able to assist you back at your place.”
“We’ll see how the evening plays out,” she purrs, then sashays off.
I’m turned on by the idea of getting back between Beth’s legs, but as I watch her walk away, I can’t help feeling a twinge of . . . sadness? No, that’s not right. Longing? Yeah, longing for something more. Maybe it’s time I start thinking about settling down. Ever since my sister Amelia got mated earlier this year, I’ve found myself entertaining the notion more and more.
It’s not like I don’t have options. Hell, I can point to ten women in this room alone who would jump at the chance to be with me, Beth included. There’s just something holding me back, something inside insisting I wait—so I do.
When she’s out of sight, I make my way over to Milo and Granger.
“Sup, buddy?” I reach for Milo’s extended hand and clasp it, pulling him into a quick hug.
“Nothing much. Thanks for coming.”
“Psh, I’d never miss an excuse to flirt with women.” Milo shakes his head.
“What’s up, Range?” I take Granger’s hand and pull him into a quick hug as well.
“I’m good.”
I glance at Milo, who has a cheesy grin on his face. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”
“Thought you were a one-and-done kind of guy?”
My brown lifts. “Unless you want to participate, don’t ask about my bedroom activities. You make me sound like an asshole. There are repeats—sometimes.”
Granger laughs, and he tries to hide it with a sip of his drink when he sees me watching him. I give them both a pointed look. Milo continues to smile like he has me all figured out. They may know almost everything about me, but there are secrets I keep to myself.
Like how I’ve been thinking more about my future and who I’ll be spending it with. I’m not even sure if these thoughts and feelings are just temporary, or if they’re here to stay because I desire a connection deep down. Erring on the side of caution, I’ve decided to keep this to myself until further notice.
“Any idea what this ‘surprise’ is you’re getting tonight?” I ask to change the topic.
Milo shrugs. “No, but I assume it’s more for my parents than me. My mother’s excitement was the first clue.”
“Your parents are probably trying to hook you up with a female in hopes of you mating.” I joke, but a tiny part of me is curious about his response even though I know the answer.
Milo picks at the label on his beer bottle. “That thought did cross my mind. It would be a futile attempt, seeing how I’m not ready for that.” He pulls big gulps, killing his beer. Is he nervous? I’ve never known him to get rattled about anything. An uncomfortable silence falls between us.
“I need a drink and it looks like you do, too. Speaking of alcohol, Blave is hitting it hard already.” No doubt we’ll be babysitting a drunk Blave again tonight. Lately, that’s been the case more often than not.
“His father rode his ass today for something, and Blave snapped, destroying his home office. Pack protectors had to come in and carefully remove him from the house,” Granger explains, shaking his head.
“Great,” I sigh. “Catherine’s here, and she’s already swiped her claws at him. It’s going to be a long night.”
Milo frowns, guilt crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I haven’t found any new escape options, other than him finding his fated mate.”
Granger may be the sensible one out of the four of us, but Milo is the studious one. He actually enjoys research, or really any excuse to read something. That’s why he was the no-brainer candidate to try and find Blave a way out of mating with Catherine.
Milo has been digging through pack records for years; each day that passes is another day closer to Blave’s 40th birthday. If we can’t figure out a way to save him, then in a little less than two years, he’ll be forced into a relationship with Catherine. All this is thanks to a treaty created years ago between Blave and Catherine’s grandfathers.
I know I give Blave shit for constantly drinking and being a total ass, but in reality, if I had to deal with his father’s constant belittling and the impending doom of mating Catherine, I’d be drunk all the time too.
“We know you’re doing your best. Don’t sweat it.” I clap Milo on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” Now is the perfect time for that drink. Tonight is going to be a shitshow. I can feel it.
Claudia
A knock has my ears perking up, along with my wolf. I turn my head and watch Hannah walk briskly to the door.
“One sec!”
She flings it open to find Stewart standing on the other side. “Hello, ladies. I’ve come to escort you down to the party.”
Hannah turns around. “Everyone dressed and ready to go?” Confirmations rumble through the room while I gawk at everyone. “Alright, lead the way, Stewart.”
Here we go.
Knots form in my stomach the further down the hallway we get. I try to focus on steadying my breathing and not on the fact that I’m about to walk into a room full of wolves based on the strength of their scent. Irrational thoughts stretch their tendrils into my mind, trying to make their presence known.
No—I refuse to freak out over nothing. I remind myself that if my wolf isn’t worried, then I shouldn’t be either.
Tonight is about having a good time and making money—really good, much-needed money.
Stewart stops and opens another door, ushering us inside. “You’ll find refreshments here. Mica will direct you further.”
“Is the music ready? Will someone be monitoring it?” Hannah asks.
“Yes, Jeremiah is already in the sound room. Please don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
Stewart nods and walks back down the hallway, disappearing around the corner. The small industrial kitchen we’re now standing in, furnished with top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, looks like it’s barely been used.
A man with auburn hair looks up from his work arranging wine glasses on trays and smiles at us. I already know he’s a wolf shifter, but that doesn’t stop my feet from taking a step back, hiding me behind the other women. His russet eyes and a friendly smile with huge dimples do little to ease my unwanted nerves.
“Hello, my name is Mica. I’m the head chef this evening. You ladies will be handing out drinks. There are two bars inside serving liquor, and you will serve the wine. We have three selections: a white, a red, and a rosé. Please come and grab a tray; the party is through that door there. We’ve been instructed to keep the drinks flowing throughout the entire event.”
I follow his directions and push open the door to step into the event area. My eyes widen as I enter the room. The place is enormous. How does all this fit inside one house?
I not
ice the raised basketball hoops on either end of the room. Holy cow, I’m standing on a full-sized basketball court. It’s amazing what money can buy. Luckily they covered the floors with carpeting. I’d hate to see the repair bill if the crowd scuffed them.
The décor makes the room feel a bit surreal. Large chandeliers hang from the ceiling, made of leaves, moss, and branches. The forest theme continues down to the tables, each one boasting a unique centerpiece of various earth and jeweled tones surrounded by candles.
Snapping myself out of a trance induced by the ambiance, I take in the crowd, deciding that the best course of action is to remain in one location. This way I can easily make my way back to the kitchen should I start feeling tenser than I already do.
“Would anyone care for a glass of wine?” I ask the first group I approach. Most pay no attention to me. Some grab a glass without skipping a beat in their conversations, acting like I don’t exist, and the wine appeared in their hand magically. I get the same reaction with the second and third groups. Before I know it, my tray is empty, and I’m heading back to the kitchen for more. So far, so good.
As the last glass on my tray is taken, the lights dim overhead and a spotlight highlights the center of the room. I take a few steps back but can’t find a decent spot to view what’s going on. I dodge the crowd to get a better look and catch sight of Stewart standing in the middle, mic in hand.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention.” The crowd falls silent, all eyes on him. “On behalf of Pack Everhart, I would like to welcome you all this evening. Tonight, we join members of Pack Banks, Pack Everhart, Pack Vacarro, and Pack Silver.” The crowd erupts into applause, with some people whooping and hollering.
Wow, four packs all in the same room. They must be celebrating something huge. A nudge along my barriers has my back stiffening instantly, but then I realize that my wolf is happy, content with being here, and wanted me to know. Her behavior defies all my expectations. I’m not sure how to process it.
My eyes flick to the side when I sense someone close to me. “Hey, I need your help,” Jessica whispers near my ear.
The Chase Is On (Pack Everhart Book 1) Page 9
