19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
NOLAN
“Wow.” Haven spins in a circle as her gaze lifts to the extra large sparkling chandelier hanging in the open-air lobby of the hotel, and Wesley lets out a long, low whistle as his eyes linger on all the spotless glass surfaces and the pristine white walls. “This hotel is…”
“Ridiculous?” Wesley says, finishing her sentence for her.
“Over the top?” I suggest.
“Ostentatious?” Cassandra says, adding in her two cents.
Haven chuckles. “I was going to say pretentious, but those all work, too.” She shakes her head, her red curls swaying side to side and a frown wrinkling her forehead. “Why are we hosting the ball in such an outlandish, gaudy—?”
“Alpha Stone!”
We all turn towards the grand carpeted staircase framing either side of the two-story lobby, where Alpha Prescott—or, rather, Nathaniel Prescott Andrews IV, alpha of Golden Moon Valley—descends towards us. He’s clean-shaven, his short, light brown hair slicked back just so, and his dull blue eyes colder than the fake, friendly smile he flashes at us, showing off his perfectly straight teeth.
Haven winces and nods in realization. “Ah. That’s why.”
He rubs his hands together, then spreads them out to gesture grandly at the room when he reaches us. “Alpha Stone, welcome to my hotel,” Alpha Prescott says.
“Kenway-Stone,” Haven corrects him as she glares at his offered hand, which Wesley intentionally doesn’t shake. “Our last name is Kenway-Stone. It’s been Kenway-Stone for over a year now.”
“Oh, of course, Haven, I just—”
“Luna Haven,” I grit out through my teeth, forcing a smile on my face.
Prescott glances at me and then turns back to Haven, but he doesn’t correct himself or greet me. An awkward laugh leaves his mouth and it hangs in the air between us as he waits for us to laugh with him.
We don’t.
He clears his throat and shoves his hands in the pockets of his navy blue pants. “I hope your drive down the mountain from your quaint little pack was uneventful?”
“It was.” Wesley grabs Haven’s hand in his and uncurls the fist she’s made with it as he links his fingers with hers and gives it a little squeeze. “Shall we join the others?”
“Of course.” Prescott backs up a step and gestures towards the stairs. “Right this way.”
The four of us follow him as he leads us up the ornate staircase covered with red carpet, glancing over his shoulder when we reach the halfway point. “Oh. This meeting is for ranked members only,” he says, giving Cassandra a pointed look. “The assisting omegas are meeting in—”
Cassandra freezes beside me, her green eyes widening and her hand tightening around the skirt of her floral dress gripped in her fist, and a warning growl slips out of my mouth. But it’s covered by Wesley’s voice, thank the Goddess.
“Cassandra is a visiting emissary from the island of the oracles,” he says. “She is a guest in my pack and will be treated with the same respect given to any ranked member.”
The effect on Prescott is immediate. He regards Cassandra acutely, his eyes lingering on her much too long for my wolf’s liking before he says, “I didn’t realize we had such an esteemed guest among us.”
He descends the few stairs to where Cassandra and I stand. He takes her hand in his, lifting it to his mouth to kiss, and it’s all I can do to keep from pouncing on him and ripping his arm out of its socket as his lips brush her skin, holding eye contact with her the entire time as he does. But Wesley’s hand grabs my shoulder and squeezes—hard—keeping me in place.
Cassandra gives him a halfhearted smile, and Prescott drops her hand, turning to head up the stairs without another glance back at her. She breathes a relieved sigh, and I do as well as she steps closer to me and lets me wrap my arm around her waist for a brief hug, a quick moment of connection to reassure myself and my wolf and calm the growing irritation inside me. My throat bobs as I swallow it all back, pushing it down and ignoring it, using the contact with her to anchor me. She’s soft and delicate in my arm, with a gentle strength hiding beneath her unassuming, cheerful exterior.
She stands on her tiptoes, reaching up to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry. It’s still yours.” Then she pulls away, turns, and heads up the stairs like she didn’t instantly harden my dick with three simple words.
She smiles at me over her shoulder and winks, her skirt returning to her hand, the skin exposed by the open back of her dress peeking through the strands of her thick, bouncy, golden brown hair as she faces front again and finishes climbing the stairs to the second floor.
Goddess, this female. I chuckle to myself and shake my head, eyes flicking to my suit-covered forearm, where her name is written on me in permanent marker. Counting to ten, I try to think of anything other than Cassandra’s pretty pink lips. I try to imagine something besides her naked body spread out on my bed as I wrote my name on her upper thigh.
Try, and fail.
I mount the last few stairs slower than I normally would, letting the problem in my pants calm down. Later. I will have her later. Now is not the time to give in to the possessive urges she awakens in me. Not when we have other alphas waiting for us, and we have an event to help plan.
But when we get home? When we get home, I will lay claim to her body once more.
My scent on her fades far too quickly for my liking, and I couldn’t insist she wear one of my T-shirts to this meeting. For now, I will have to settle for the brief, subtle moments of connection and the knowledge that my name remains on her thigh, just like her name remains on my arm.
Haven and Cassandra both wait for me on the landing while Prescott and Wesley make small talk as they meander towards the room where we’re meeting with the other alphas. Wesley is tense and clearly not thrilled with talking to Prescott by himself. But he does what is needed to keep up appearances and maintain a modicum of camaraderie and to save the rest of us from having to put up with Prescott’s snobbery.
“What’s an omega?” Haven asks when I reach them.
Cassandra and I exchange a glance, and my lip curls, another growl threatening to escape me. “It’s a term for a wolf who isn’t of any rank,” I explain. “It’s outdated, and most packs don’t use it anymore, but there are a few who still do.” I flick my eyes towards Prescott.
Haven grimaces, and Cassandra links her arm with Haven’s, leaning close to her so they won’t risk being overheard. “Some elitist alphas began using it as a derogatory term, meant to make any wolf who wasn’t of rank or wasn’t a warrior feel inferior. As you can imagine, it quickly morphed from a generic term for the rest of the pack to an insult.”
“But without the pack, there is no alpha,” Haven says, shaking her head. “That way of thinking isn’t becoming of a leader.” She glares at the back of Prescott’s head as he opens the door to the meeting room. “Although…”
She trails off, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop my laughter, covering my mouth with my fist to cough. Cassandra’s eyes sparkle as she catches my eye, while Haven slips her arm from the loop of Cassandra’s, taking Wesley’s hand instead. Prescott enters the room after Wesley and Haven, letting go of the door, forcing me to grab it before it shuts Cassandra and me out. My nostrils flare, but I rein in my frustrated growl, holding the door open for Cassandra. My hand moves to the small of her back as she passes by me, and I follow her inside, my thumb sneaking up to touch the exposed skin there.
The contact is minuscule, but it’s better than nothing. It’s enough to keep me going through this meeting.
Two of the four alpha and luna couples from the other packs hosting this mating ball sit around the table, with four chairs left empty: one at the head of the table, two to the left of it, and one at the far end. Prescott heads straight for the chair at the head of the table, sitting in it without waiting for Haven and Wes. “Let’s get started,” he says.
But Wesley scans the room, taking stock of who is here and who isn’t, a frown forming. “Shouldn’t we wait for Alpha Benjamin?” he asks, glancing at Cassandra and me.
“He’s late.” Prescott shrugs and checks his fingernails. “I scheduled our meeting to start at—”
Wesley glares at him. “It is two minutes after the time we agreed to meet. We can wait a few more minutes, at the very least.”
Prescott taps the table with two of his fingers, but Wesley doesn’t wait for his agreement or his permission. He instead directs his attention to the others in the room, a genuine smile on his face as he and Haven greet them and chat with them.
“Cassandra.” Haven beckons her over with a gentle wave of her hand. “Come and meet—”
“Ah, yes.” Prescott jumps from his seat and glides through the room towards Cassandra. “Let me introduce you to the others.” He offers her his elbow, but she ignores it, walking around him and over to the first couple who rise to greet her. “This is the esteemed Alpha Thornton and Luna Jillian Maxfield of Northern Mountains.” Prescott claps the alpha on the shoulder as Cassandra shakes his hand. “They lead the largest and oldest pack here in California.”
“Cassandra Stavros,” she says, introducing herself. “I’m visiting from the island of the oracles in Greece.”
“Are you Agatha’s daughter?”
Cassandra peers around the Maxfields to look across the table at Alpha Edward and Luna Hannah Walden, regent leaders of Silver Ridge. “I am,” she says, her words slow and precise. “You know my mother?”
“Not well, no. I’ve met her only once. I do know your father, though.” Cassandra blinks at him as she takes in a deep, intentional breath through her nose. “It was a shock for all the European packs when Alpha Joseph’s mate turned out to be an oracle, and even more of a shock when he stepped down and handed his title over to his younger brother.”
“He had to so he could be with my mother.”
“Oh, of course!” Alpha Edward says. “As it should be. It was just unexpected for an alpha to be fated to an oracle. That’s all.”
“Fate works in unexpected, unexplainable ways sometimes.” Cassandra swallows, then smiles, her eyes distant and wistful, pinching the tip of her finger between the fingers of her opposite hand. “He loves my mother and me very much.”
Her eyes glisten, and her lower lip trembles, but she pulls it into her mouth to hide it, glancing at me. My wolf urges me to move to her side, to take her hand in mine and wrap my arm around her, but the room is too crowded with the bodies and the furniture, and there are two alphas and a luna blocking my path to her.
And I can’t mindlink her to check in with her, since she’s not a member of our pack. My hands curl into loose fists, and I hold back the growl of frustration growing in my chest and instead show her with my eyes that I wish I could be right next to her, soothing her like she soothed me in the lobby.
“Yes, that is clear to anyone,” Luna Hannah says with a chuckle. “The way he looked at both of you when we visited… Well, you were just a baby at the time, but I recognize your eyes. They’re the same as your mother’s.”
Cassandra smiles again and ducks her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you’re from the European pack region, then how did you end up here in California?” she asks.
“They’ve graciously stepped in to run Silver Ridge until Savannah is old enough to take her place as alpha,” Haven says.
“Savvy isn’t Reid’s. Biologically,” Wesley clarifies, winking at Cassandra whose brow furrows at Haven’s remark. “Taryn was already pregnant with her when they met, but Reid still claims her as his daughter.”
“Delightful little thing,” Alpha Edward chuckles fondly. “The last time Taryn and Reid brought her to visit the pack, she—”
But we don’t get to hear what hilariously adorable thing Savvy did during her last visit to Silver Ridge because four phones ping with an incoming text, and all four alphas grab their phones to read the message. Wesley frowns, glancing at Cassandra and then me. “Alpha Benjamin isn’t able to make it. Something came up.”
“Typical,” Prescott says under his breath. He shoves his phone back into his pocket, crossing his arms and pinching his lip between his fingers as he storms to his seat. “What a waste of a meeting…”
“It’s not a waste,” Haven says, rounding her chair and standing between it and the table. “Everyone else is here, and I am certain Alpha Benjamin would be too if—”
“Listen, Haven,” Prescott says, leaning over the table, the tips of his fingers pressing into the surface. “I know you’re new to being a luna and all that entails, but—”
“I’ve been the luna of Crescent Lake for almost four years now, Prescott,” Haven says, raising a brow at him.
“Alpha Prescott,” he says with an edge to his voice.
Haven lifts her chin and draws herself up to her full height of five feet five inches, her hand resting on her belly, her nostrils flaring slightly. “I’ll address you by your title when you’ve learned to address me by mine.”
Prescott gapes at her and then stares imploringly at Wes, who stands with his arms crossed and a proud smile on his face as Haven slides into her role as our luna with ease.
But my eyes move to Cassandra on the other side of the table, where she takes a subtle step back and out of the direct line of sight of the other alphas and their lunas. She focuses on Haven, and even from across the room, I catch a glimpse of the silver stardust swirling in her gorgeous green eyes as she absorbs Haven’s aura. The swirls are slower this time, though, resembling the trickle of a lazy stream instead of the frothing, bubbling surface of a hot spring.
I smile to myself as I watch her in her element, relaxed, unstressed, and unfazed by the power she draws into herself from Haven. She blossoms and brightens with each second that passes and each ounce of starlight she absorbs, like a flower basking in the warm spring sun. Our eyes meet, and she gives me a brief smile before turning her attention to Haven again to continue her work.
Prescott huffs and taps the table with his hand. “Wesley—”
“Alpha Kenway-Stone,” Haven says, her chin lifting higher as she corrects Prescott once more, and I have to stifle a laugh when he flinches.
Goddess, I love when Luna Haven steps up and puts those who underestimate her in their place. I love seeing their reactions when this petite, unassuming human luna handles herself like a she-wolf who trained her whole life to be a pack leader.
Prescott continues to flounder, and Haven turns her attention to the others. “We should get started. There is much to do, and only about an hour before I need to eat again.” She rubs her growing belly, and the other two lunas laugh and nod knowingly. “Now…”
She settles into her seat, and Wesley sits next to her, clasping her hand in his as she talks, taking charge of the meeting since she’s rendered Prescott speechless for the moment. Her aura dissipates as the conversation flows, and Cassandra floats around the table, her movements seeming aimless to an outsider. But I catch the fire in her stare as she makes eye contact with me, her intent clear as she crosses the room to my side.
She passes in front of me, and I curl my hand around her forearm, stopping her from going too far and leaning in to whisper to her. “Are you all right?”
“Of course,” she replies, her body swaying closer to mine to minimize the distance. “I have a better understanding of it now.”
I shake my head once. “You seemed upset when Alpha Walden mentioned your parents.”
Her eyes widen in understanding, and she gives me a soft, sad smile. “I miss them.”
“You’re homesick?”
“No.” She shakes her head and covers my hand with hers. “But it’s been a while since I’ve spoken with them. That’s all.”
I scan her shining green eyes, my hand tightening on her arm and my thumb caressing her skin, and I nod. “You can call them later? When we get home?”
Her smile brightens. “I would like that very much.”
I slide my hand down her arm, and she moves away to stand next to me, her hand slipping through my fingers as slowly as possible, our fingertips parting at the last possible second. But even without her touching me, there is a connection tying me to her. It’s unexplainable and intangible, but it grows with each day that passes.
The meeting continues, but I’m barely listening, hyperaware of the tiny distance between Cassandra and me, the microscopic space between our hands that I could easily close by reaching over. I hate how far apart we are, but this meeting is not the place for affectionate displays.
Thankfully, the meeting doesn’t take too long, and I breathe an almost audible sigh of relief when Prescott says, “There is one last matter that needs attention.”
The others glance at him, and Cassandra and I straighten so we’re ready to leave when we’re done.
“We have standard guest rooms lined up for all the attendees, but we’re reserving deluxe suites for all the ranked guests for the event,” Prescott explains. “I already have the requested number of suites for the other packs, but I still need to know yours, Alpha Wesley. Three?” he asks, head swiveling between Wes and Haven, myself, and Cassandra. His eyes linger on her and sweep over her from head to toe, and I see red. “Or maybe two?” he asks, wetting his lips.
“Two suites are all we will need,” Cassandra says before any of us can answer him and before I can launch myself across the room and slice through his slimy face.
She scoots closer to me, her arm sliding under my suit jacket and her hand stroking my chest as she gazes up at me, her lashes fluttering. I react to her without a thought, my arm wrapping around her waist and my hand resting possessively on her hip, dangerously close to her ass.
Screw etiquette.
Even with her blatant shunning of Prescott’s advantage and her obvious show of interest in me, a growl still builds in my chest, and my wolf bares his teeth in my mind. I squeeze her hip and yank her in closer, staring down at the inferno roaring to life in her eyes, an inferno I know mirrors the flames in my veins.
“Is there anything else?” Wesley asks, amusement coloring his voice.
Prescott grunts and tosses his pen on top of his notepad. “No.”
As soon as the word leaves his mouth, I’m out of the room, Cassandra’s hand gripped in mine. “I’ll meet you at the truck,” I mindlink Wesley as I burst through the door, slamming it open so hard it bounces off the wall.
But it doesn’t faze me. I have a one-track mind. I’m a male on a mission.
I beeline for a dark hallway across from the meeting room, and I swing Cassandra around and lift her into my arms, crushing her to the wall as I slam my lips onto hers. Her response is immediate and enthusiastic, her hands clutching at my shirt and tugging me closer, her hips rolling and grinding against my cock. I brace myself on the wall and groan into her mouth, pinning her with my hips as my other hand curls around to her thigh, inching her skirt higher and higher until it pools around her waist and her long legs are displayed for my eyes to feast on and my hands to explore.
Fireworks burst in the air around us as we kiss, and all I can think about is ensuring my scent is on her so others know she’s mine.
All fucking mine.
I tear my lips away and press my forehead to hers, panting and thrusting hard against her hips. “You’re mine,” I say, gasping as I thumb over my name on her inner thigh. Her hands hold my face, and she nods, her chest heaving as hard as mine.
“Nolan—”
“Give me five minutes, Wesley,” I growl, cutting him off and blocking him out.
“I should make you wear my shirts all the time,” I say, still caressing my label on her leg. My claim.
“You said you like my dresses.”
“You need my scent on you,” I grunt, somehow stepping closer to her, even though there isn’t space to slip a piece of paper between us. My lips travel along her jaw and down her neck. “You need my scent on you all the time, and I—” I swallow and inhale her sweet wildflower scent, my face buried in her neck, my heart racing in my chest as the words to explain what I need escape me.
“You what?” she gasps, a breathy moan falling from her trembling lips, her pulse fluttering beneath my mouth.
I shake my head and hold her tighter, my hand gripping her thigh hard and spreading her wider. My thumb brushes over the outside of her soaking wet underwear, and her heels dig into my ass, a sharp inhale echoing in the dark, shadowed hallway. “I need to get you home,” I say, circling her entrance with my thumb as she jerks her hips with each pass of my digit over her clit. “I need you naked and screaming my name.”
“You could just take me here,” she says, her chin lifting as she nudges my mouth back towards her face. “Claim me right here in the hallway. In his hotel. That would show him who I belong to.”
I chuckle and hover my lips over hers, letting them brush together with each breath we take. “Tempting as that may be, I’ve already told you I don’t fancy fucking you in front of an audience.”
She laughs, too, and I dive back in for a kiss, putting us both out of our misery. It’s slower than before, though, less frenzied and more sensual. I take my time to feel her lips twisting with mine, my possessive, greedy touch softening as I set her on her feet and snake my arm around her waist. I still brace myself with the wall, towering over her protectively as I cling to her and claim her mouth. The way she melts into me and moves in unison with me is something straight out of a fantasy, and I can’t get enough of her.
“Let’s go home, then,” she says, leaning her head against the wall to gaze up at me.
I nod and back away, keeping my hands on her body—one arm around her waist, hand resting on her hip, her hand held in mine. I keep her like this down the stairs, through the lobby, and out to the parking lot, letting it be known exactly who has a claim over her.
Just in case Prescott is watching us as we leave.