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I’m on a mission. Go along with them, fool. Escape and bring down the force of Team Greywolf on their fucking plan. Now to be convincing after his initial disgust. He rubbed his brow. Time to calm his emotions. “My pack was massacred, and I have no mate. I will consider your offer.”
Raulf narrowed his eyes. “You joined Rylee’s Lycan Intelligence pack and must be thinking of escape.” He looked toward Cricket. “Along with the runt.”
Slade fought to keep his fangs in at Raulf’s clear threat toward Abella. “If Henrik knows the drug doesn’t work on me, how do you plan to convince me?”
“Don’t worry, Henrik is a brilliant chemist, and he’s fine tuning the drug.”
“So I gathered. He fooled us all with his omega scent.”
“Indeed.”
Slade glanced at the beta’s table. “Randi seems to fit well.”
“He and the others never once felt like an amnesia patient.”
“Mind control or brain washing?”
“New, better memories.”
“False memories.” Brain washing, all right.
“Imagine waking up knowing you grew up with a loyal pack and you are a member of the superior species.”
Slade shrugged and bit into his steak. As much as he suffered from the loss of his pack, he hated the idea of never remembering them. Abella. He’d never forget her. “What about Cricket?”
“As a reward for capturing you, Jack, the human can keep her.”
Slade stiffened. Mine. He laughed with an edge. “Why? Didn’t you pay him enough to get an expensive prostitute?”
“We don’t keep human females, and the runt is human enough for him. I understand why he wants the attractive she-wolf for himself.” He smiled. “Prince Slade, are you not happy she gets to live?”
“I prefer she return to our territory.”
“Not possible.”
He snorted. His vision clouded and fur prickled along his back. The wolf itched to escape and rip Jack’s heart out, but not until he ripped off his balls. He growled. “No one will touch her.”
“Don’t worry. He may not get to keep her. Wolfstrom has taken a special interest in a runt who survived the change.”
Fucking hell. Either his Abella would end up as some human’s plaything or Wolfstrom’s guinea pig.
Agrippa ran a long black painted fingernail along his taut arm, stroking it as if it were his cock. “Oh, sweet Prince, perhaps I can alleviate your frustration.”
Slade flinched from her touch. “Not necessary.”
She pouted and handed him a covered silver platter. “Here, try our mouthwatering delicacy. It’s Wolfstrom’s favorite.”
Raulf laughed. “Yes, please do.”
Slade uncovered the platter, took a whiff and cringed. “Are you mad?”
Raulf grabbed a piece of the meat and slowly chewed it. “Trust me, we eat only grass fed humans.” He wiped his lips. “I wonder if a runt would taste even better?”
Slade stood and smacked the platter with the human meat off the table. The crash silenced the room.
Famished, Cricket quickly ate her steak, but almost choked as the clatter interrupted the meal and Slade’s fierce growl echoed. He stood, in hybrid wolf form, ready to pounce on Prince Raulf. The din of conversations stopped. Not good.
She stood, but a guard snarled. “Sit!”
