I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown, so they’d better cut me some slack.
A man seated at the bar slowly spun on his stool until he was facing me. Had I seen him last night? Several deep furrows cut his forehead, and his eyes sparked with pure hatred. “You need to keep in mind that LaSalles aren’t welcome here before you go shooting your mouth off,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “You’re lucky the alpha needs you now, but as soon as that’s through, don’t you ever set your dirty feet in pack territory again, or I’ll drag you out by your filthy red hair. Do you get my drift?”
My throat tightened.
Every look around the room was the same. They hated me here, and it wasn’t just the wolfsbane. They despised my family. This was a blood feud, and I was in the wrong part of town.
“I’m not a LaSalle,” I said. “I’m a Caine. And I don’t want anything to do with whatever feud you’ve got going. I assure you, I want nothing more than to get the hell out of here.”
The sooner we tracked down whoever was hunting me, the sooner I could put these werewolves and their bullshit behind me.
The man slid off his seat and stepped up to me, towering over my head. His signature stormed around me. He was extremely powerful, reeked of vodka, and spoke with unstrained venom. “Blood is blood. You’re a LaSalle, whether you like it or not. Consider this your warning, little witch. Next time, there won’t be one.” With that, he marched to the door and left.
I bared my teeth as he walked away—which was ridiculous, because I didn’t have fangs—but it felt right. Tears of frustration threatened to creep out, so I clenched my fists.
What, exactly, had I done to be treated like this? To have drunks getting in my face and threatening me? I wasn’t part of whatever shitty history they were caught up in, just collateral damage.
A glass of ice water slid across the granite bar top toward me, and I turned back. Sam had a sad expression on her face, but her voice had warmed a little. “Not many people stand up to Billy.”
“He seems like a real jerk.”
“He has good reasons for hating your family, but he won’t cause you any trouble. Not with Jaxson as the alpha. He won’t let any harm come to you.”
The other werewolves in the bar turned away, as if even the sound of Jaxson’s name could make them submit. There was so much I didn’t understand about him or his position as the alpha. He held sway over his pack even when he wasn’t around.
I considered the power he seemed to hold over me and shivered.
Every time I was around him, my mind fogged. He frustrated me to no end, and a part of me yearned to rage against him. But there was always a subversive undercurrent flowing through my thoughts, the desire to submit, to please, to obey. And when he was close, it was like I wanted to submit with my whole body. Judging from the heat between us, I was fairly certain he’d be amazing in the bedroom. God, why was I thinking about that?
Sam grinned widely and stacked several glasses that were still damp from the dishwasher.
“Is something funny?” I took a sip of the drink she’d given me.
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering how your thoughts went from Billy—the scariest wolf in our pack—to sex with Jaxson.”
28
Savannah
I choked, and water sprayed from my mouth. I leaned forward, my cheeks burning like a Roman candle. She knew I was thinking about Jaxson? Sexually? “How…?”
Sam shook her head. “Honey, I’m a wolf. I can smell emotions. And FYI, arousal on you smells like a rare steak to a male wolf.”
She winked at me, and I gasped, covering my mouth. “No, no, no.”
One of the wolves who’d been setting up the stage for tonight appeared at the end of the bar. His eyes burned yellow, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. I planted my elbows on the bar and dropped my head into my hands, dying a little inside.
Jaxson, you son of a bitch.
That would have been good to know from the start. Possibly a good lesson number one about werewolves. Had he known every time I was angry or scared or turned on? I recalled the other night when he’d chased me down the alley. I’d been so frightened I’d nearly pissed myself, but something about having him close had lit a fire in me. Had I smelled like a rare steak to him then?
I wanted to crawl under the bar and die.
Sam’s eyes sparkled. The goddamned wolves could probably all smell my humiliation, too, for all I knew. She certainly seemed to be in a better mood.
“Don’t be too embarrassed. We’re used to sensing emotions. It’s how we communicate. While scenting feelings might seem odd to you, it’s second nature to us and not surprising. Plus”— she handed me a napkin—“most women feel what you feel toward Jaxson, so we’re used to it.”
“I don’t have feelings for Jaxson. He’s good to look at, that’s all.”