Chapter 15
Victor
We’ve been in this penthouse suite for two days and I’ve had Taryn on my cock almost the entire time.
I’ve fucked her in the bed. Fucked her on the couch. Fucked her bent over the wet bar, bent over the side of the tub, bent over every table. Even the cart they brought our room service on last night. The steaks were a good meal. Taryn was a better dessert.
Her scent is everywhere, mingled with mine, sweetened by the mating bond as it grows stronger.
The suite smells like sex, sweat, expensive soap, and my mate. It should be enough. Every wolf instinct in me should be satisfied by the fact that she’s naked in my bed, covered in my scent, marked by my teeth, and dripping with my seed.
It isn’t enough. That’s the problem. I’m standing by the windows, looking down at Covington while Taryn sleeps behind me.
The city looks peaceful from up here. Clean streets.
Tall buildings. People walking around like there aren’t old gods, broken curses, shifters, witch hunters, and fate-blocked druids moving through the world around them.
Humans are lucky. They don’t know what is snarling in the dark.
My mate shifts in the bed and lets out a soft sound. My cock hardens immediately. I grip the edge of the window frame, claws emerging and pressing against the painted wood until it starts to crack.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
I had her twenty minutes ago. Maybe thirty. She came so hard she could barely say my name by the end of it. She passed out with her cheek pressed against my chest and her hand curled around my wrist like she was afraid I’d leave if she stopped touching me.
Still, I want her again. No. Want isn’t strong enough.
Want is what a man feels when he sees a beautiful woman across a room.
This is need carved into my very bones. Need with fangs sharper than mine.
Need that drags its claws down the inside of my ribs every time I’m more than a few feet away from her.
The frenzy is close. Getting closer every hour. I’ve seen wolves during this stage. I’ve watched them pace, sweat, shake, and lose their sense while the bond tightened. I always thought they were weak. Undisciplined. Too ruled by instinct.
It’s easy to think that when you’re bitter over Mother Fate forgetting you. But now I understand. The bond doesn’t make you weak. It makes everything else irrelevant.
Taryn murmurs in her sleep, and I turn before I even decide to.
She’s on her stomach, one leg bent, the sheet twisted around her hips.
Her auburn hair is spread across the pillow like fire after a storm.
The mark on her back is healed, but the scar is clear.
Mine. A permanent claim etched into her skin.
My chest tightens. I’ve killed for her. I’ve fucked her until she screamed. I’ve bought her clothes, brought her to a fancy hotel, put food in front of her, and still, I feel like I haven’t done nearly enough.
She spent years believing scraps were generosity. I want to give her everything. I want to destroy anything and anyone that taught her to expect less.
Her phone buzzes on the nightstand. The sound is small, but my head snaps toward it. Taryn doesn’t wake. She’s exhausted. I should let her sleep.
It buzzes again.
I walk to the nightstand and pick it up before it can disturb her. There are several missed calls from Frank. A few texts from Shana. One from Madison. At least a dozen in their group chat, which is named best friends forever, no matter what.
I shouldn’t snoop, but I’m overly possessive with the mating bond still forming like this. I need to know what my mate needs before she does. Solve her problems before she even realizes they exist.
Between the texts, missed calls, and voicemails, I get a fairly clear picture. Frank talked to Melinda. Melinda talked to her daughter. Shana talked to Madison. Now everyone wants to talk to Taryn about the mysterious man and her sudden disappearance.
“Fucking hell,” I sigh. “I told her I’d sort things out with Frank. I guess it’s time to keep that promise.”
I don’t want to leave her, but this will be easier if I’m alone. I lean down and nuzzle her neck until she stirs enough to open her eyes.
“You already want more?” she whispers.
“Always,” I growl. “But right now I’ve got a few things to take care of. People are getting worried about you, so I need to talk to Frank. Sort it out like I told you I would.”
“Remember, he was there for me when nobody else was,” she murmurs. “Even if it doesn’t seem like much.”
“I haven’t forgotten what you told me,” I rumble, kissing her neck before pulling away. “Rest. If you get hungry before I get back, you can order room service. Once you’re up, you should text Shana and Madison. They’re flipping out because they haven’t heard from you.”
“Did you go through my phone?” she asks, her eyes opening wider.
“Yes,” I snap. “Is that a problem?”
She’s quiet for a moment before she looks up at me. “No. I guess it should be, but it isn’t right now. I’ll text them soon. We normally text every day, but I’ve been a little… distracted.”
“I’ll distract you again as soon as I get back,” I smile, then walk to the closet.
Taryn watches while I get dressed, then I devour her lips one more time before I leave.
This should be a fairly simple problem to solve.
Wolves don’t sleep as much as humans, and I’ve needed less than I normally do with the mating bond driving me mad.
That’s given me plenty of time to find out everything I need to know about Frank and his diner.
I could use a run, but with tension high in Covington after what I did to Joe and his asshole friends, it’s better if I drive. The traffic annoys the hell out of me on my way to the diner, so I’m glad to be done with it when I turn into the parking lot.
When I walk in, Frank is in the kitchen.
There’s a woman I don’t recognize waiting tables.
I find a seat, order some coffee, and let her know I have business with Frank.
I watch as she delivers the message and Frank’s face pales when he sees me.
He finishes whatever he’s doing in the kitchen and quickly hurries to my table.
“Sit down,” I order him in a no-nonsense tone.
“Is Taryn okay?” he asks as he lowers himself into the seat across from me.
“Do you actually give a fuck?” I ask. “Or do you only miss her because you need cheap labor?”
Frank’s lip twitches like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. “Look, Taryn’s one of Shana’s best friends. We’ve tried to help her. Yes, I know we could have done more, but we tried…”
“You’re not going to convince me that, with beautifully decorated empty bedrooms upstairs, your basement was the best you could do,” I snarl. “But I’m not here to talk about that. Taryn’s fine. She’s staying at the Casa Lusso with me.”
“Casa Lusso?” Frank asks, his eyes bulging slightly. “That place isn’t cheap.”
“No, it’s not. Now, let’s talk about your diner. I’ve had some time to look over your finances. You’re not doing well, Frank.”
“My finances? How did you-” he begins, but I cut him off.
“Don’t worry about that,” I cut him off.
“This diner is just a way for you to stay busy while your wife earns the real money, but you’re not doing yourself any favors.
You’re hiring felons to work in your kitchen.
You didn’t even pay Taryn. Not really. Tips aren’t a salary, Frank. Especially tips from this place.”
“I know, but Melinda thought… I mean, we were giving her a place to stay,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t really afford to pay her.”
“And now that she’s gone, you can’t afford to hire a replacement. I get it,” I say. “Personally, I’d rather let you solve this problem on your own. Or not. I don’t give a fuck if you have to close this place down. But Taryn still appreciates what you did for her, which means I’m going to help you.”
“Help me? How?” Frank asks, then he lowers his voice. “Are you asking for a job?”
“No,” I practically guffaw in his face, looking around with raised eyebrows.
“I’m going to hire a restaurant consultant for you.
One who has done a lot of good work in New Salem.
This place needs a facelift, a new menu, a cook that doesn’t eye-fuck your waitresses all goddamn day, and waitresses who can earn a decent living. ”
“Sure, there’s a lot this diner needs, but I can’t afford any of it,” Frank says defensively. “We keep our personal finances separate.”
“It won’t cost you anything. Consider it an investment,” I snap. “The only thing you have to do is leave Taryn the fuck alone. Stop blowing up her phone. Stop calling her, leaving voicemails about how much you need her help. She’s not coming back, Frank. Ever.”
“Oh, but you said a few days… I didn’t realize…” he stammers. “She’s really that distraught over Joe?”
“She’s no longer your concern. Leave her the hell alone,” I let a threatening tone color my words. “You do that, and I’ll give you everything you need to turn things around here at this diner. Maybe you’ll actually enjoy coming to work for a change.”
Frank seems to be processing it. He’s looking around, probably already imagining what he could do with this diner if he had the money. But I see conflict in his eyes that surprises me. I thought he’d be doing cartwheels.
I’d already sent a message to Saul before I left the suite. He knows people who can turn a failing business around or bury it properly.
“Taryn’s okay, right? You’re not hurting her or… anything?” Frank asks apprehensively. “This isn’t like… trafficking, is it? You’re not… trying to… buy her from me?”
“She’s not yours to sell,” I growl, leaning closer. “Frank, I’ve seen monsters like that. I’ve put them out of business. You’re a terrible fucking host and a horrible boss, but you’re not that evil. That’s why I’m choosing to help you.”
“And that’s what you’re doing for Taryn? Helping her?” he pushes for a little more information he won’t get.