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“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He winces as he closes his window, helping to block out some of the thumping music. “Do you want me to call—”
“No, I’m good.” I push the car door open and swing my legs out, my black Louboutin heels clicking against the pavement. Luckily I still had some of my clothes at the house, including a short, black, form-fitting, strapless dress.
“Aria,” Carter calls, but I ignore him and close the door behind me. My mind is already set on this, and nothing he says is going to change my mind. I honestly have nothing to lose by doing this. If she says no, then she’s already my enemy.
I stride towards the door with my chin raised high, projecting nothing but confidence as I approach the bouncer.
“ID,” he demands, reaching out to clasp my already waiting driver’s license. Thankfully it’s early enough that there isn’t any line outside, but judging by the way the wolf shifter’s eyes linger on me, I’m sure I wouldn’t have any problem getting in. “Have a good night.”
The bouncer opens the thick, reinforced door for me and I frown as I pass through it. Maybe I don’t know what I’m really getting into with these wolves. The Dravens might be the largest pack in town, but they’re also a gang, making them dangerous on a whole other level.
The club has a pretty standard layout. There’s a bar to my right and a dancefloor to the left with a few booths in the far corner. On the other side of the bar it looks like there’s a hallway which is more than likely where I’ll need to go. There’s a good crowd inside already, most of them grouped by the bar, with a few lining the dance floor as they wait for their liquid courage to kick in.
I’m about to approach the bar, when a woman walks out through the door I was just staring at. Her long black curls bounce around her. She isn’t dressed like she’s going to a club—she’s wearing a pair of dark brown dress pants with matching brown heels and a flowing, cream blouse. She glances to the bar and is about to walk over there when her dark hazel eyes catch on me. She scans me in much the same way I just did to her, seeming to recognize me as her spine straightens, and I have no doubt if she was in her wolf form her hackles would be raised.
I stride over to her, putting an extra sway in my hips as I close the distance.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asks, her tone stiff yet polite.
“I’m here to see your Alpha,” I reply in an icy tone. “I hear this is the best place to find her.”
“I’ll see if she’s available,” the woman says, about to walk back down the hall, but I place a hand delicately on her shoulder to stop her.
“That’s not necessary,” I say, my hand dropping as she slowly turns back to me. “I’m sure she’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
I really don’t have time for the runaround, not when I have no idea what’s happening with Greyson.
“I don’t think you heard me,” she says coolly, her lips curling back slightly. “You’ll speak with her if she’s available.”
“Do you really think you can stop me?” I scoff, eyeing her incredulously. She might be a strong wolf, but she doesn’t have a chance—not with my power levels nearly recharged.
“Do you really think my Alpha will listen to a word you say if you just barge in there?” she says, mimicking my tone exactly. My jaw ticks in annoyance but I have to hand it to her, she has a backbone.
“I’m—”
“I know who you are,” she says, raising an eyebrow, her expression completely unimpressed. “And frankly I really don’t care. You’ll wait or you’ll leave.”
With that she pushes back through the door and locks it behind her. I mutter a curse under my breath but decide to leave the door intact. Probably not the best idea to pressure her staff and break down her bar.
I wander over to the bar and order a mojito while I wait, not wanting to look too desperate, regardless of the anxiety thrumming through me. I take one long sip of the drink, mostly holding it for the chill of the glass against my palm as it helps to calm me.
I’m just starting to rethink the whole breaking the door down situation when it opens. The same woman strides out and motions me forward and I follow after her as she leads me to the private booths.
“Take a seat,” she says, gesturing to the booth furthest from the dancefloor.
“Do you know how much—” I start as I slide into the booth and place my glass on the table.
“Don’t ask me that,” she groans. “I already had to walk in on something I didn’t want to see because of you. Now I’m in a bad mood, Skylar’s in a bad mood, and Arsenio’s in a bad mood—and that guy likes to play with fire.”
With that she turns on her heel and strides away without another word.
“Literally or metaphorically?” I shout after her but she just keeps walking away, leaving me to wonder if I made a mistake by coming here in the first place.
I scan the crowd and chew on the corner of my lip as I tap my heel impatiently. My gaze keeps drifting to the door in the hallway, even though I don’t want to be caught staring at it, when movement catches my attention. A woman strides from the hallway, her presence commanding everyone’s attention as the crowded club grows silent aside from the thumping music. Even the beat sounds out of place at the respect she commands. She isn’t dressed like she should be at a club, nor is she dressed in business attire like the other woman. Her black leather pants hug her body perfectly, showing the long lines of muscle underneath. She wears a white silk tank top, which clings to her body, with a black leather jacket on top.
Her movements hold a lethal grace, her golden eyes assessing and taking in every inch of her club, betraying the predator that she is. I swallow thickly, and not for the first time tonight, considering I might’ve made a mistake coming here.
I shake off the uncertainty, not wanting her to scent it as fear, and take another sip of my mojito, attempting to look as casual as possible as she slides into the booth across from me.
