women were trapped by their matches, thrust into worse situations than what they’d left at their last pack. It was a risk Stephanie had to take, if only to get the tormenting dreams to stop. They teased of the ideal pack and the perfect mate. She wasn’t prone to fairy tale whims, but she couldn’t help but to obsess about what could be.
Turning back to face her new alpha, she swallowed hard and let out a long, slow breath. She hoped Adam was good, because she was probably only going to have one chance at this. If she refused the pairing, no one else would want her—at least, no one a reasonably sane woman would want. She’d end up having to settle for some weak wolf back in her father’s pack, who would likely punish her for trying to leave in the first place—for wanting more for herself than to be treated like a possession.
She ran her tongue across her lips and set her sights on a large cactus about a dozen yards away. She was used to having her name dragged through mud—used to being insulted and maligned for what she was—and eventually, she would have to put her foot down.
She knew in her heart that she needed a wolf lover. Maybe her own small connection to the goddess had convinced her of that, but the human part of her told her to never settle. She was worthy of love and respect, in spite of what her father had told her. If she couldn’t get that, she’d leave, customs be damned.
Do your thing, Alpha. I’m ready.
CHAPTER TWO
When the pack had voted months ago on whether or not it was time for Alpha to put out the mate call, Darius had been the second-slowest to put up his hand. The only wolf more reticent was Anton, and it was easy enough to guess what Anton’s dysfunction was. “Beast” had gotten mauled six months ago while in his human form. He was blind in one eye, and though he’d had a good deal of plastic surgery on the side of his face, he couldn’t hide his scars. It made sense that he was holing up inside his house. Darius had half a mind to do the same, but it was too late. Alpha caught his gaze and waved him over.
Damn.
Darius’s packmate Colt snorted as Darius pushed off the wall he was holding up. “Good luck, Loner,” he said with a dry laugh.
“Fuck you,” Darius muttered under his breath.
The teasing and name-calling was all in good fun, usually—they all had nicknames—but sometimes it got so damn wearying. Probably another reason Anton had kept himself inside. Alpha would probably have Anton’s ass for it later, but seeing as how Alpha was his uncle through marriage, Anton probably didn’t worry too much about it. But when Darius thought about it, he realized Alpha had never put much stock in nepotism. Maybe Anton should have worried.
Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, Darius made his way up the short stone path and around the bench that held the four women.
He felt a bit like he was marching off the gallows, but instead of him being the one sentenced for an unforgivable crime, some poor woman was getting punished by receiving him as a mate.
Alpha had one of the women standing now, one with hair the color of cinnamon and the nicest pair of tits Darius had seen outside of a Vegas showgirl . No, not a showgirl. Like one of the pin-up girls from the 1940s he’d seen in a book he’d picked up at a festival long ago. She had red, heart-shaped lips and an eyebrow arched curiously at him. She was prettier than any of those glossy pictures. Unreal. Is she mine?
She looked him up and down and pursed her lips.
Maybe that was actually her natural hair color. Best he could remember, he’d never been with a ginger. Then again, he didn’t remember much about very many of his sexual encounters. That’s all they were, really. Transient wolves didn’t form attachments. The pack had only recently settled in New Mexico.
“Stephanie Benson, meet Darius Lucas. Darius, this is Stephanie,” Alpha said, and with that terse introduction, moved on down the
Turning back to face her new alpha, she swallowed hard and let out a long, slow breath. She hoped Adam was good, because she was probably only going to have one chance at this. If she refused the pairing, no one else would want her—at least, no one a reasonably sane woman would want. She’d end up having to settle for some weak wolf back in her father’s pack, who would likely punish her for trying to leave in the first place—for wanting more for herself than to be treated like a possession.
She ran her tongue across her lips and set her sights on a large cactus about a dozen yards away. She was used to having her name dragged through mud—used to being insulted and maligned for what she was—and eventually, she would have to put her foot down.
She knew in her heart that she needed a wolf lover. Maybe her own small connection to the goddess had convinced her of that, but the human part of her told her to never settle. She was worthy of love and respect, in spite of what her father had told her. If she couldn’t get that, she’d leave, customs be damned.
Do your thing, Alpha. I’m ready.
CHAPTER TWO
When the pack had voted months ago on whether or not it was time for Alpha to put out the mate call, Darius had been the second-slowest to put up his hand. The only wolf more reticent was Anton, and it was easy enough to guess what Anton’s dysfunction was. “Beast” had gotten mauled six months ago while in his human form. He was blind in one eye, and though he’d had a good deal of plastic surgery on the side of his face, he couldn’t hide his scars. It made sense that he was holing up inside his house. Darius had half a mind to do the same, but it was too late. Alpha caught his gaze and waved him over.
Damn.
Darius’s packmate Colt snorted as Darius pushed off the wall he was holding up. “Good luck, Loner,” he said with a dry laugh.
“Fuck you,” Darius muttered under his breath.
The teasing and name-calling was all in good fun, usually—they all had nicknames—but sometimes it got so damn wearying. Probably another reason Anton had kept himself inside. Alpha would probably have Anton’s ass for it later, but seeing as how Alpha was his uncle through marriage, Anton probably didn’t worry too much about it. But when Darius thought about it, he realized Alpha had never put much stock in nepotism. Maybe Anton should have worried.
Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, Darius made his way up the short stone path and around the bench that held the four women.
He felt a bit like he was marching off the gallows, but instead of him being the one sentenced for an unforgivable crime, some poor woman was getting punished by receiving him as a mate.
Alpha had one of the women standing now, one with hair the color of cinnamon and the nicest pair of tits Darius had seen outside of a Vegas showgirl . No, not a showgirl. Like one of the pin-up girls from the 1940s he’d seen in a book he’d picked up at a festival long ago. She had red, heart-shaped lips and an eyebrow arched curiously at him. She was prettier than any of those glossy pictures. Unreal. Is she mine?
She looked him up and down and pursed her lips.
Maybe that was actually her natural hair color. Best he could remember, he’d never been with a ginger. Then again, he didn’t remember much about very many of his sexual encounters. That’s all they were, really. Transient wolves didn’t form attachments. The pack had only recently settled in New Mexico.
“Stephanie Benson, meet Darius Lucas. Darius, this is Stephanie,” Alpha said, and with that terse introduction, moved on down the
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