Chapter 7 Karina
Karina
Ihate him.
I hate how calm he looks dragging me out of my apartment as if it is just a typical day for him.
I hate how he smells like cedar and smoke and something that curls around my throat and makes it hard to breathe.
And I really hate how my wolf responds.
She’s alert now, ears perked. Pleased. Like she’s finally found what she’s been waiting for.
Most infuriating of all is how she reacts to his rough handling. As if being yanked through the stairwell like a damn sack of potatoes is some kind of affection.
I can’t even blame him for being what he is.
It’s not like I didn’t know about wolves.
My parents made sure I knew. They spent my entire childhood drilling one rule into me—stay out of the were world.
Hide what you are. Blend in. Keep your head down.
Don’t shift unless it’s a full moon and do it far away from home.
Don’t sniff the air in public. Don’t lose control.
And I listened.
Until tonight.
And now I’m trapped in a car with a stranger who makes my wolf roll over like a lovesick mutt.
“Where are we going?” I demand again, sharper this time.
Still, no answer.
His focus stays fixed on the rearview mirror, scanning the road behind us as if headlights might appear at any moment. His jaw is clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth haven’t cracked.
I could scream. I want to scream.
Because I’m not just angry, I’m humiliated. Exposed. My apartment, my life, all of it is gone. Every piece of the normal I worked so hard to build just burned to the ground the second this man showed up.
And what’s worse?
Part of me. Some wild, stupid part of me doesn’t care.
Because my wolf is pacing now. Eager. Interested. Claiming him with every breath I take.
I turn away from him and stare out the window, blinking hard.
I hate him.
But not nearly as much as I hate the part of me that already wants to follow him.
We’ve been driving for maybe ten minutes, and I can’t take the silence anymore. The hum of the road beneath the tires, the low growl of the engine, his tense profile bathed in the dull orange glow of passing streetlights—it’s all starting to wear on me.
I cross my arms tightly over my chest.
“So, you’re just going to keep driving in silence like I’m not owed any kind of explanation?”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look at me.
I stare at him, waiting. Nothing.
“Where are we going?”
A beat. Then finally, with a sigh, like it physically pains him to speak.
“Bellandi territory.”
I blink. “What?”
His jaw ticks. “You heard me.”
The name still means nothing to me. I shift in my seat, staring hard at Damien’s profile. “I’ve never heard of them.”
He doesn’t react at first, but I can feel the tension in him spike. His knuckles flex around the wheel. “Of course you haven’t,” he mutters.
I bristle. “So enlighten me, since you’ve already dragged me into this nightmare. Who are they?”
“They’re one of the oldest and most powerful packs on the West Coast,” he says finally. “They rule most of central California—territorially, politically, economically. No one moves against them without bleeding for it.”
I blink at him. “They run California?”
“In the ways that matter, yes.” He glances at me briefly, expression unreadable. “You don’t grow that big and last this long without making enemies. And crushing them.”
I sit back, stunned. This is way bigger than I thought.
“And you work for them?”
He hesitates, then mutters, “I’m on loan.”
“Loan?” I scoff. “Like...a library book?”
He doesn’t smile.
“I’m an enforcer,” he says tightly. “Temporarily. I belong to another pack.”
“So, you work for a crime syndicate?”
He smirks, just barely. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
My stomach twists. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to go out, have a drink with my neighbor, and put Travis behind me. Not end up in a muscle car with a killer at the wheel being taken to the heart of werewolf mafia central.
The road stretches on, twisting deeper into the trees. The city is long gone now, swallowed by black hills and thick forest. I try to keep my breathing steady, but every mile we put between us and my apartment makes the reality of this situation worse.
I don’t know where I am. I don’t know who these people are. I don’t even know if I’ll survive whatever this is.
“What happens when we get there?” I ask, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice. “Do I just get handed off to someone else? Locked up?”
Damien doesn’t answer right away. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, the only sign that I’ve actually gotten under his skin.
“You’ll stay in my quarters,” he says, low and clipped. “Until I speak with the Alpha.”
I stare at him. “Your...quarters.”
He nods once. “You’ll stay out of sight. No one touches you. No one talks to you. Not until I’ve secured your safety with Anselm.”
I swallow hard, turning my face to the window and trying to ignore the way my stomach twists.
My wolf doesn’t help. She’s practically curled up in the back of my mind like she’s settling in for a nap, smug and content, like the idea of being in his space is the best thing that has happened to her in years.
“Don’t get comfortable,” I mutter under my breath.
She huffs a little, stretching. Traitor.
“You’ll stay in my space,” Damien says again, as if repeating it makes it more acceptable. “No one will come near you. Not without going through me.” There’s something brutal in the way he says it, something final. Like a warning, or a promise. Maybe both.
“And if I say no?” I ask.
“Then I’ll carry you.”
My mouth goes dry. As much as I want to fight him, scream at him, throw open the door and launch myself into the forest, we both know I won’t.
Because if half of what he’s said is true...then the only thing more dangerous than staying with Damien is not staying with him.
“How long have you known?”
“Known what?”
“About...this.” I gesture vaguely between us, unable to say the words aloud.
He's silent for so long I think he won't answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is rougher than before. “My whole life. It's pack knowledge. Something every wolf grows up understanding.”
Of course. Another thing my parents kept from me in their desperate attempt to make me normal. “My parents never told me.”
“They did you a disservice.” His jaw clenches. “Leaving you unprepared for what you are.”
“They were protecting me.” The defense comes automatically, even though part of me has always wondered if he's right.
“From what? Your own nature?” He takes a sharp turn, tires gripping the asphalt. “Look how well that worked out.”
I want to argue, but the words stick in my throat because he's not wrong. Twenty-seven years of suppressing my wolf, of pretending to be human, and where has it gotten me? Sitting in a killer's car and being dragged to a compound filled with more wolves.
“They tried their best,” I say finally, though the words taste hollow.
“Their best left you defenseless. Ignorant.” His voice drops lower, more intimate. “Tell me kitten, how many times have you felt like something was missing? Like you were only living half a life?”
The question hits too close to home. I press my lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But he doesn't need one, my silence is confirmation enough.
“That's what I thought.” He reaches over, his fingers brushing against mine where they rest on my thigh. The contact sends fire racing through my veins, and I jerk my hand away. “Your wolf's been starving, hasn't she? Locked away, denied everything she needs.”
“Stop.” My voice cracks despite my best efforts to stay composed. “You don't know anything about my life.”
“I know enough. We have the rest of our lives to dive into the details. First, I need to secure your safety without killing every single male on that fucking compound. Your cycle complicates it even more.”
My cheeks burn with humiliation. Living amongst humans made this part of my life so much easier. They can’t smell it.
“That's none of your business,” I snap, pressing thighs together.
“It becomes my business when I'm taking you to a compound full of wolves.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel until I hear it creak under the pressure. “Fuck. This is the last thing we need right now.”
“I have suppressants in my bag,” I say, though I know they're not strong enough to mask it completely. Just enough to take the edge off until it passes.
“Suppressants won't do shit in a wolf compound.” He's grinding his teeth now, the muscle in his jaw working overtime. “Every male will smell you the moment we arrive.”
“Take me back.” I grab the door handle, though I know it's useless. We're moving too fast, and even if I could jump out, where would I go? “This is a sign from the universe that this is a terrible idea.”
His laugh is humorless. “The universe doesn't give signs, kitten. It gives consequences.”
“Don't call me that.” I wrap my arms around myself. “My name is Karina.”
“Karina,” he says, and something about the way my name rolls off his tongue makes my wolf stir again. “Your cycle complicates things, but it doesn't change my decision. You're coming with me.”
“You don't understand. I can't—” I swallow hard, embarrassment making it difficult to form words. “I've never been around other wolves. I don't know what will happen.”
“I know exactly what will happen, and I'll kill anyone who gets too close.”
The casual way he talks about murder sends a chill down my spine. “That's not reassuring.”
“It wasn't meant to be.” He takes a sharp turn onto a narrow road that disappears into the forest. “It was meant to be honest.”
“Well, it didn’t come off that way.”
You really don't understand, do you?”
“What?” I shift uncomfortably.
“Female werewolves are rare, Karina. Extremely rare.” He glances at me before returning his eyes to the winding road. “Wolf matings typically produce males. Maybe one in twenty births results in a female. And those females are guarded like crown jewels.”