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Felix’s head snapped up, his face aghast.
Voice near tears, Norman shook his head. “But I just can’t do that to her.”
Something seemed to click in Felix’s mind as he lit up with an idea. “She was talking to a guy at the BBQ. I remember mom talking about it. Rumor has it he was disappointed she’s not running.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s got an accent. British, I think, no wait.” Felix paced again. “South African? Shit. No, he was an Aussie,” he paused for a moment, “Daniel. That’s it. I think he’s loaded, too. Came here for a bit of fun, I think.”
“Thank you.” Norman grabbed his son and gave him a hug. “Thank you.”
Moving with the shadows, Rafe followed Norman as he headed toward the lodgings where visiting shifters were staying. It took him about ten minutes to find the right Aussie.
After exchanging pleasantries, Norman got right to it.
“I heard you’re interested in my daughter.”
Daniel eyed him and took a sip from the long neck he was holding. Rafe hated to admit that Vivian was right. The Aussie was a hottie.
“Who’s ya daughter, mate?”
“Vivian Conners. You were talking to her at the BBQ.”
Interest flared to life. “The redhead?”
“That’s her.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t touched her, if that’s why you're here.”
“It’s not.” Norman took a deep breath. “Are you familiar with the idea of a dowry?”
The Australian’s eyebrows rose. “Where I pay you for her?”
“How interested are you?”
He smirked. “Owe some money, do ya?”
“Do you want Vivian or not?”
Daniel continued to size Norman up.
“She’s a virgin,” Norman offered.
Rafe wanted to punch the pathetic excuse for a beta in his paunch. He didn’t deserve a daughter like Vivian.
“You’re willing to sell me your virgin daughter to cover a debt?” Daniel sounded as disgusted as Rafe felt. “To a stranger?”
When Norman didn’t answer, Daniel leaned against the frame of his hotel room’s door. “I came to run in the Curusm, and as much as I’d like to whisk Vivian away from whatever mess of parenting you are, I still plan to run.”
Norman’s shoulders slumped.
“Too bad she ain’t running, though.”
The beta’s head snapped up. “I could arrange that.”
“How much?”
“Ten grand.”
