Chapter Six
“Come in.”
He beckoned to the body on the other side of the door before they knocked.
Documents were stacked across the large desk, a quarter of which was finished. Rowan planned to get through most of it by the end of the day.
Her heels clicked a steady rhythm across the dark marble, coming to a stop beside him. His mother must be finished with her duties for the day, if Morgan’s presence was any indication.
That was another point he acknowledged about Morgan–her uncompromising work ethic.
He continued his work.
A small hand ran the length of his hair.
Tsk.
He stopped then, turning in his chair to address the siren at his side. She was a vision. Her dark hair, usually bound tightly in a knot, tumbled over her chest. She lacked her customary blazer, exposing the fitted sleeveless blouse that contrasted her skirt and sat low on her chest. Her green eyes begged.
“Impatient, are we?”
He meant to scold her, but instead pulled her to stand between his thighs. His nose trailed across her wrist. The scent of her, similar to apples, was intoxicating.
“Your Highness, do I make you happy?”
How uncharacteristic.
He almost paused.
They’d been seeing one another for quite a while, away from the prying eyes of others. She was the only female he could truly tolerate for more than ten minutes. Did she make him happy? Perhaps in the obedient sense.
“Yes.”
She made a small noise as a claw from the hand holding her waist found its way inside her shirt.
“This thing–mhm–with the candidate trials–”
“What about it?”
Her knee rested on his thigh, her legs spread as he stroked the outline of her clit through her panties with the flat of his claw.
“W-what about taking me, instead?”
He did pause then, watching Morgan scramble to match the mood, the scent of her need dissipating as she cooled. He’d been too indulgent lately.
“We have a busy day tomorrow. It’d be best if you get some rest.” They were flying out, after all.
Rowan sat back in his chair, staring as the blush drained from her cheeks and a flustered Morgan clicked her way out of his study.
She was great.
But she wasn’t his. They could only enjoy the fun as it allowed..and that’s as far as he would allow it.
He would fulfill his duties as heir, and keep with the dated tradition.
Thirty minutes into her drive, she felt she had everything planned–as best as she could.
She would take extended leave from the University, hand over the dig materials for her junior associate to principal the project, and stay in a neighboring town while she did more research on the organization that captured her and figured out her next move.
Laura pulled next to a pump at a small gas station. She stood, the wind feathering her as she stretched, before lumbering inside to pay.
It was certainly no well-stocked shop, as Laura squinted at her food options. A pubescent, acne-ridden, teen hawked her as she grabbed an energy drink from the back. She rolled her eyes, though she probably had been staring at the Cheez-Its longer than any sane person. She moved to go forward and pay for the gas and snacks when the bell on the door chimed, bringing a smell that raised her hackles.
Wolf shifters.
And not just any wolf shifters–Grayson Pack shifters.
Worse. Shifters she knew.
Jason Orden–she recognized him despite the aging. His looks were as aggressive as she remembered–if not more–with his curling hair tucked behind his ears, green eyes filled with hate and annoyance, sharp nose a little off center thanks to a childhood fight with the Alpha’s son, and thin lips drawn into a permanent scowl; Grant Louriey, similarly distasteful in looks, stood slightly taller than Jason, with cropped hair, and blue-green eyes a little too far apart. Jason was a Delta, son of the Orden Deltas; Grant was a Delta, son of the Louriey Deltas–his dad was lead pack warrior.
They moved with intent, looking down each aisle they passed, sniffing the air. Laura immediately muted her scent, one of the few things she didn’t do often because of how much energy it took, and she certainly wasn’t in any shape to lose energy she’d barely managed to recover.
She quickly back peddled towards the restrooms. There were two doors, and she prayed the other was an exit. Laura kept her stance low as she backed against the unmarked door, turning the knob. Tension left when the wind tousled her hair, and she quickly stepped back, moments before the two men would’ve spotted her...
... Right into the arms of a third.
Before she could even struggle, as she drew in a sharp breath, an unsanitary-looking cloth covered her face. It dripped wet with an all too familiar substance.
She didn’t pass out.
But she did feel unbelievably high. Breathed ten glasses of alcohol straight to the brain high.
“Why is she so heavy?” Grant bitched about how she weighed as dead weight versus how she would weigh under normal circumstances. She growled at him, her clouded brain offended, but the sound came out more like a yelping pup.
“Shut up and hold her legs right,” Jason growled at his friend.
“Hah, would you look at that? She didn’t pass out boys,” the third voice said.
“Damn, she’s really gonna feel fucked up if that didn’t put her out.” A blur of red crowded her, and Laura was met with another familiar face.
Trenton Phillips. Beta.
Stupid redhead whose ideas originated mostly from the lower brain. She’d been an unwilling witness to many of his ruts behind the common hall, his gross noises of pleasure crossing the thin wall of her small corner, behind the pack’s communal kitchen. She thought he’d just picked the most annoying spot, but he would later make it clear his choice of location was intentional.
As she grew older, his actions towards her made her realize he probably had sexual hangups over the pack’s mule.
She tried to snap at him and found success as she chomped into his nose, tasting blood. She was met with his laughter when she realized he’d reared back, easily avoiding her. Laura frowned as she worked her jaw. She’d bit her tongue instead.
She managed to spit on him, a good amount of blood landing into his open mouth, as he continued to laugh. He gagged, and her accomplishment was rewarded with a sharp slap to the face. She knew it was going to bruise.
Good thing she couldn’t feel a damn thing.
“Hey, she alright?” Laura rolled her head in the direction of the voice, her view blocked by the bodies half carrying, half dragging, her to a running SUV. She knew she was two butterflies away from gone, as her body felt the weight of what she’d inhaled. So she did the logical thing and stopped fighting it.
“Fuck.” The one holding her legs dropped one, and the other two grunted as her body suddenly lost all tensile strength, becoming true dead weight.
“Yeah man, our cousin’s just hit her head a bit,” Grant responded to something someone said. She could hear the shufflings of another figure closing in.
“Y'all want me to dial the ambulance?”
“No, we’re–,” Grant started.
“Hell, mind your business old fuck,” Jason exasperated over the interaction.
“You kids put her down now, or I’m phonin’ the sheriff.” The trio didn’t pause in their strides. Trenton audibly sucked his teeth.
“Deal with it, Jay.”
“Why? Just let the fucker fuck off.” Laura was avidly watching a dancing panda when a deep-pitched warning sounded from Trenton, snapping her from delirium.
Her body was then hoisted by two pairs of arms instead of three. She was rolled into the backseat. Before she could try to align herself to sit up, she was cushioned between Trenton and Grant.
“Wha–Get back boy! I said stay ba–”
The beginnings of a scream were abruptly cut short. She was helpless to save the man. She couldn’t even save herself.
How the hell did she end up like this again? She couldn’t even remember the first time.
She knew she should be scared though, because where they were headed would be worse than the place she just escaped.
But there were just so many cute dolphins bouncing in the waves. Or are those sharks?
“Congratulations, bitch. You get to be the pride of the pack for once.” Trenton was breathing too close to her ear, and a heavy hand gripped her thigh. His words only brought confusion.
Jason joined them after an indeterminable amount of time, though it must’ve been short, considering Trenton’s temper was shorter. He brought the stink of iron.
She blinked, the dread and horror a momentary figment.
The thought must have inspired what she was currently seeing. Literal steaks replaced the faces of those around her. She laughed.
“Yes, enjoy it while you can.” Trenton laughed right along with her, roughly stroking her hair.