Chapter 6
Chapter Six
B illy
What in the hell am I doing? I must be out of my mind.
I hate having people in my place. It messes with my control over my environment. Even my housekeeper and chef annoy the hell out of me–and they’re shifters in the Blackthroat pack. Respectful and trustworthy to the bone.
Why would I subject myself to having a human in my apartment? A mural must take weeks to paint. Maybe more. And she wants to paint two.
Two murals. One in color. Ugh. It will be ghastly. But whatever, I can have someone paint over it in a day.
The point is, I’m going to have Aubrey Cook in my apartment for months.
I. Will. Go. Mad.
Except, smug satisfaction emanates from my wolf at the idea of having her here. I have no doubt he manufactured this outcome. He wants to fuck the little human.
It’s a strange impulse for a pure-blooded wolf from an alpha line. I can’t be going down the road Brick did–wanting to claim a human.
Not even one who smells as enticing as this one.
Fuck no. Humans are weak. Inconsequential.
I had that drilled into my head since before I could walk. Back when I was a runt who my father hid away from the pack out of shame.
I’ve spent my entire life scraping and scratching to get to the top. First, to prove I was worthy of the White name, which I now fucking reject. Then to prove I was worthy to be Brick’s second in command.
I was born small and stayed small as a pup. My transition came late–I didn’t shift or hit my growth spurt until I was fifteen–long after my dad had abandoned me at boarding school.
Long before then, I learned to fight ferociously, besting kids twice my size. I learned cut-throat strategy.
And when I finally hit my transition and shifted for the first time, I willed my way to rapidly grow to this size.
So I can screw this ridiculous human who smells like nutmeg and honey, but after that, I need to cast her aside. My story doesn’t end with a human in my life. Full stop.
Madi claps her hands in delight and reaches for the bottle of prosecco to pour another round.
Aubrey picks up her refilled glass and drinks from it. It’s hard for a wolf to even get buzzed because we metabolize alcohol so quickly, but I can tell Cafe Girl’s on the border of drinking too much. Her movements are getting jerkier and reactions slower.
Part of me doesn’t mind seeing her with lowered inhibitions. But it riles my wolf as if she’s in some kind of danger here.
From me, perhaps.
Certainly not Madi or Brick.
“What else do you need from us?” Brick cuts in. He’s got his hands all over Madi. I’m sure he wants to get her alone again. With the amount of sex those two get, it’s a wonder she’s not knocked up already.
“Help with the guest list,” Aubrey answers. “And we need to set a date. Do we want it right before the wedding?”
Madi muses. “Yes. Let’s do it the week of the wedding, arriving back home at least two days before the ceremony. I’ll put together my guest list this weekend and get it to you, but I think it will just be you and Brick’s two sisters.”
Brick’s fingers slide along Madi’s inner thigh, inside the skirt of her form-fitting dress. She lets out a soft moan.
Aubrey covers her eyes. “God, you two. Unless you’re angling for a foursome, I think you’d better take it upstairs.”
My wolf bristles. The idea of Cafe Girl participating in any orgy–even one involving me, seems to piss him off.
Brick lifts Madi from his lap and rises at the same time. “Billy. Aubrey.” He gives me a solemn nod.
He’s satisfied with me. He doesn’t say it, but I register my alpha’s approval as much as my body would register alpha command. I’m starting to win my way back into his good graces.
The sense of victory makes me want to pounce on the helpless human. To claim her for a victory fuck–fast and furious. Just enough to work the aggression out of my system, so I can toss her away.
Aubrey also stands. “All right. We’ll be in touch. Madi, I’ll see you Thursday night.” She hugs her friend, and for a moment, something dark and seething swirls in my gut. A familiar feeling from my childhood. That sense of wanting something given to someone else.
“Can Tony run Aubrey home?” Madi asks Brick.
“Of course.” Brick pulls out his phone.
“No, I’m good,” Aubrey says quickly. “Limos are not my style.”
“You’ve been drinking.” My words come out in a harsh growl.
She sends me a sharp, offended look, accompanied by a frown. “I didn’t drive here.”
She thinks I’m accusing her of drunk driving.
Madi tugs her toward the door. “They think the subway is unsafe. Take a cab, or they’ll stuff you in the limo,” my luna advises her friend.
For fuck’s sake. In what universe is taking a limo to Brooklyn a hardship? Apparently in Aubrey Cook’s upside down artist-activist world.
“Fine, I’ll take a cab,” she says quickly. “Thanks for the bubbles, Suit!” She precedes Brick and Madi to the door.
I follow, not sure why I’m so annoyed. The ridiculous human seems to keep me in a constant state of annoyance, though.
She finally turns to make eye contact after she’s through the door. “I’ll be in touch.” She holds her thumb to her ear and pinky to her mouth to mimic a phone.
“I’ll brace myself,” I mutter.