TWENTY
Nik removes one shackle from his wrist followed by the second, his forearms flexing as each bind is undone. The chains rattle and thumpf on the marble floor, shaking what I’d assume is the entire building under the weight of each heavy restraint. His allure hasn’t changed since he freed himself, no, it’s only tripled when I imagine his unbound hands roaming my body freely. Places he wished to touch now well within reach.
This is ridiculous. He’s a man—well, kind of. And I’m just the person who returned the favor. Me—one, Nik—one. Even trade. He seemed to enjoy it, loving the way I kept our gazes evenly matched—his, a glowing gold, and mine, eager to please. Then, he exploded in my mouth with more cum than I could possibly handle. I wanted to impress him, believe me, I wanted to be a good girl , but holy shit, there still might be some of him streaking the sides of my face and neck. I wipe an arm to my mouth just to be sure.
“Do you all chain yourselves up every full moon?” I ask, breaking the silence of the loft. Great. Another round of questions I can’t seem to help asking. Not something sexy like ‘Oh, I enjoyed that,’ or even a ‘How was it?’ No, I opted to question him about how he and his pack spend their evenings when the moon is a dinner plate in the sky.
“No,” he says with a small scoff, kicking the chains into a small bundle near his feet. “Some still prefer the old ways.”
“Old ways?” I say and laugh. “Like attacking small villages?” My giggles lose their flair when his eyes darken. “Oh, shit, you’re serious?”
Nik nods and curls the long hair away from his face. “I’ve been able to keep the wolves here in line without the presence of my father, but it is still his pack . I can’t stop him from rewarding their savagery.”
I gape at him, hanging off every word from the couch I can’t seem to peel myself from. “So, the old ways are?”
“More horrible than you could imagine,” he says and adds nothing else.
If the change can make Nik a mindless, bloodthirsty creature, what does that mean for the rest of them? Do they all embrace this ferocious gift from the Vostik bloodline? One werewolf was more than enough for me to keep the lights on at night. An entire pack that doesn’t care to keep their humanity intact? Well, I may never sleep again.
Nik leans over and picks up my camera, pressing different buttons on the LED screen.
Heat blooms in my neck and cheeks. “No,” I say and rush toward him, reaching for his hand. “Those pictures aren’t ready.
He pulls away, keeping me at arm’s length. “Who is this?” he asks, showing the pictures I took of Viktor and the party he brought here. Nik’s brow furrows as he stares at the photo, and when he glances back to me, his eyes fill with contempt.
“They got here right before I did. I assumed it was some private party you were having. They’re still downstairs at the bar if you need to chaperone your brother,” I say with a laugh.
Nik, however, doesn’t. No, he stares more intently at the image of his brother giving a false grin. He finally nods and continues scrolling until he lands on the birthday pictures from this afternoon. Jonathan, a grin missing teeth and blue frosting decorating his cheeks and outstretched hands. It’s probably the best shot I was able to get of him, given the little guy is incapable of sitting still anyway, much less for a picture from some stranger with a camera.
Something breaks in Nik’s features, the hard lines of his face softening. “You’re really good at this,” he says, giving a slight smile until his expression returns stoic. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
Busy? The short answer is no, but he doesn’t need to know my calendar is embarrassingly empty. Plus, what am I gonna say? Oh, Nik, I have no plans. The girl that just—what is the term Courtney uses? A mouth-hug? Well, this mouth hugger is free to your every beck and call. Nothing more desirable than a recluse that can’t be bothered to put on a bra most days. So, yes, for the time being, I am busy. I am indisposed for the foreseeable future.
“Why?” I ask, drawing my brows together.
Nik hands me my camera, and I tuck it back in the bag slung over my shoulder. “We’re having an event tomorrow night. Could use a photographer.”
“I don’t know if you could afford me, Mr. Vostik,” I say sarcastically and tilt my chin to the ceiling. Never mind the sales rack clothes I’m wearing with birthday cake frosting staining the front pockets of my jeans.
Me? Taking pictures for a sure-to-be sold-out event at Volk? No, I have a hard enough time navigating this club as a civilian, let alone someone on the job. What would I do? Snap impromptu pictures of people living their best lives while in the company of an entire werewolf pack I’m not supposed to know about? Fat chance.
“Two grand,” he announces, his voice firm.
A choked gasp falls from my low-hanging jaw. “You—I? No. Nik … I can’t accept that.” Even my most professional shoots never amounted to more than a few hundred bucks and a pantry filled enough to last until the next one. Two thousand dollars for one night of work? He’s out of his fucking mind.
Nik grabs me by the waist and pulls me to his strong chest, the heavy scent of cedar and mint taunting me. “This isn’t charity. Some photographer in the city will get what I’ve set aside for promotional pictures. I have a few interviews in the morning. I can either cancel them and give you another excuse to come see me, or—” He pauses and sniffs along my neck, the feel of his breath tensing my body straight.
Fuck. Kind of hard to argue with that. Yes, I need the money. Yes, any excuse to come back here is one I’d lunge at, but taking money from him? How in the hell do I even begin to explain that on a 1099? Did you accept money from an irresistible club owner? If so, was this entrepreneur a werewolf you’ve fooled around with? Deductions here. Penalties there. I’d have the IRS knocking down the doors of Volk faster than the supernatural YouTubers ready to make their big break.
“Say yes, Natalia,” he insists, caressing my cheek with a gentle palm, leaving furnace heat to build under his fingertips.
Why? Why does this man have the power to level me to the floor like the chains near his feet? There’s something hypnotizing about him. Some unnatural force keeping me under a spell I can’t manage to break free from. The chains he wears to keep others safe are so different from the ones shackling me to him. Come daybreak, his come off. Mine don’t seem to have a key.
“Fine,” I relent. “But this is a professional job, so no funny business.” I give him a smirk and stand on my tiptoes, bringing my lips to his. How each kiss is more desirable than the last is beyond me. Every time I taste him, there’s a hunger for the next time our lips will meet. It’s too cliché to say he is a drug to me, but goddammit , I’m addicted to him.
“Of course, Ms. Calder,” he says, his voice stern and poised. “I will handle all the arrangements and be your point of contact.” Nik draws me in close, a hand at each hip. The hint of a grin tilts one side of his face. “Oh, and if your pictures are not to the Volk standard, next time … you will be wearing the chains.”
*
“I can’t believe you’re making me go back there,” Courtney says, adding blush to her high cheekbones. “In case you forgot, last time I was carried out of Volk.”
I glance at her reflection in the mirror, my eyes pleading. “I know, but it’d really mean a lot if you were there.”
“Ugh,” she scoffs, and slams down her makeup brush. “You owe me, bitch.”
“Thanks, Court,” I say and hug her from behind. I probably don’t express it enough if I’m being honest. She’s been there for me in ways my own family hasn’t. She is my family. And her agreeing to do this, to go back to Volk after she swore she wouldn’t, is just one more thing to add to my pile of IOUs.
“You think I should go with a black dress or red?” she asks, holding up each in contemplation. “Which do you think Viktor will like more?”
“Viktor?” I spit and roll my eyes. “I thought you hated him?” Little does she know I fucking despise him.
“Oh, I do. I just think he needs a reminder of what he lost by being such an insufferable prick last time.”
I giggle and add a coat of mascara. “Whatever you do, don’t drink the Vostik.” I fake gag and she too joins in.
“Or that shitty tasting glitter drink,” Courtney counters and writhes, disgust contorting her face.
Glitter drink? What is she talking about? I didn’t have—then I remember. The way the liquid dripped down the shot glass, sticking to my fingers before the drink was knocked from my hands as I was shoved to the floor. How Viktor insisted we each took one, practically begged us to, even. After everything Nik has told me about him, it seems even stranger now he’d do anything as some kind gesture. That wasn’t in his nature. No. “ Some have to claw their way through life, while others are simply born to claw at those trying to survive ,” Nik had said. So why was he so keen on giving us some special drink that was near impossible to get stateside? It doesn’t make sense.
“Might be best to steer clear of that one,” I say, imagining the horrible monster hiding beneath his massive build, white smile, and suit large enough to fit two regular-sized men. When Nik changed he doubled in size. It is impossible to think Viktor’s transformation would have the same effect. Something that big. That … savage. There’s no telling what kind of beast he becomes.
“Don’t worry about me. I can find someone to occupy my time while you’re off with Nik. Seriously. This is your night.”
Before I can shower her with more appreciation, three heavy knocks rap the front door of my apartment. We both stare at each other for a moment, maybe to make sure it wasn’t the air-conditioning trying to kick on for the third time tonight.
“Expecting more gifts?” She smirks and nudges my arm.
I hold the crescent moon necklace between my fingers, the sharp curve of the silver digging into my thumb. She follows behind me closely as I make my way to the door, expecting another package left absent on my doorstep. Starting at the top hitch, I pull it to the side, followed by the handle lock, and finally, the dead bolt.
I peer back at Courtney’s grinning face and she nods. With a deep breath, I open the door inch by uncomfortable inch. There isn’t a package on the welcome mat. No, there’s two large legs standing at shoulder’s width, and when I open the door fully, Dimitri’s impressive stature becomes clear. His head reaches above the frame, and as he stares down at me, my eyes widen in an instant. If there were a list of people I’d never expect to knock on my front door, Dimitri is somehow near the top.
“Good evening, Ms. Nat,” he says in his thick, accented voice.
Despite my throat constricting, I swallow down the spit lathering my tongue and stutter out, “Di—Dimitri?”
“Who is that?” Courtney whispers from behind, though her attempt at subtlety can use work. I hear her, and with how close I am to the large bouncer, I have no doubt he hears her too.
“I am a friend of Ms. Natalia.” His deep voice hits a lower octave. He keeps his hands tied behind his back, the sleeves of his blazer bunching up near his shoulders. “And I am here to take you both to Volk.”