Slade (Team Greywolf 1)

Slade nodded and stood, towering over her. He turned and walked back in.

Cricket couldn’t believe it. No werewolf had ever obeyed her like that. Was it the sedative?

Rylee locked the door and shot her a smile. “Good job.”

What did I do? “Thank you, ma’am.”

Rylee winked at her.

She tilted her head to the side. Unbelievable. Rylee knew all along if she let him out of his cell, he wouldn’t harm her. Cricket wished she had as much faith.

Dr. Warner released a long breath. “Prince Slade, do you accept Cricket as your pack subordinate until you are well enough to rejoin pack society?”

I should remind him, it’s assistant not subordinate. Cricket opened her mouth to protest, but Rylee narrowed her eyes at her.

“Yes.” Slade stared at Cricket as if she had any say. “However, I prefer my guest quarters.”

Rylee spoke, “Just know, if we comply with your wish, we have to sedate you. Your wolf may not be as cooperative.”

Cricket lifted her brows. “I guess the dart wasn’t strong enough to knock him out?”

Dr. Warner shook his head. “Not even close.”

“Very well. As long as only Cricket sedates me,” said Slade.

Warner handed her a thick syringe. “This will do the job.”

Cricket snorted. “At least what I gave him calmed him enough.” Or drugged enough to listen to a runt.

“Not quite,” said Warner.

“Huh?”

“Nothing calms a wolf suffering from morphopsychosis or a better term, morphogenesis, more than being around the lowest ranked wolf.”

Well, how convenient. The entire scene had been a test. Lucky for me they were right.

Rylee smiled. “Don’t take it personally. Think of it as just another mission.”

Ouch. It was hard not to. They had used her. Counting on her inferior runt status being an advantage. Wasting her talent, babysitting. Rude. The team needed her. “Ma’am, I…”

Rylee growled at her.

Cricket held her tongue. “Very well.”

She entered the chamber and approached the beast of a man, doing her best to act the submissive wolf, but her tight lips telegraphed how she felt. Hate being here, your royal high ass-ness.

Slade narrowed his eyes at the attractive runt as she stepped closer, holding the powerful sedative in her small delicate hands. He sniffed her. Her alluring scent reminded him of the sweet bloom of a rare wild rose growing on a bare mountain despite the harsh weather. As a cub, he remembered a runt born to a beta couple. The poor thing didn’t survive the winter. Not that he wasn’t loved, cared for and protected, but apparently he had weak lungs and died of a virus. Slade’s mother had told him it was better the runt had not lasted. The change would have killed him anyway. He cocked his head. Yet, somehow, this fragile female runt named after an insect survived into adulthood and the change. Most intriguing.

Blasted Dr. Warner. He was right. Being around a weaker wolf brought out his protective nature and worse, made him feel calm, as if he needed to reassure her she’d be safe with him. Not that his sorrow had vanished, but her presence took the edge from his fierce wolf. Almost kept him human. Fucking frustrating. “Go on. Do it.”

Cricket didn’t cower, like a submissive wolf should, but frowned. “I need your exposed arm.”

Stubborn and fearless. No wonder she survived the change. He dropped his robe and flexed his bicep.

Cricket stared at her feet. He smelled her arousal. She was petite, delicate, almost human, not the type of female he dated. Besides, no one ever had sex with a runt, even for fun. Still, something about her enchanted him. No doubt, part of his mental breakdown.

She cleared her voice. “If you don’t mind sitting.”