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It’s either stab him or walk, and I don’t have time to go to jail. Freed from the alpha barricade, I bolt.
My arms shake. I hide the knife in the puff of my skirt, but now that it’s out, it’s staying out.
We’re off to a fun start.
I head for the bathroom.
I’ll splash my face and reset, then come back ready to smile my best plastic smile.
There has to be at least one pack worth meeting.
Maybe that alpha who smells like brisket?
Before I get anywhere, an alpha in gangster-chic pinstripes steps into my path.
I dodge, then curse, coming face-to-face with the season’s top mean girl, seated at her table like the prom queen.
“Lilah. So good to see you.” Rachel lowers her glass. “I’ve been dying to introduce you to one of my favorite packs.” With her dark curls pinned up, and a murder-red, off-the-shoulder gown, she smirks like she just issued a kill order.
It’s worse.
There’s a way a man looks at you when he thinks he can buy you.
It’s this half-lidded gaze, part smugness, part contempt.
The alpha who blocks my path hits me with a leer like he already paid his cash.
His round jaw is shadowed with stubble, and thick, sour cigar smoke hides his alpha scent.
Danger.
“This is Artur Braun and the Braun pack.”
Artur closes his eyes, giving me a sniff so deep it’s violating. Then his scent spikes over the cigar smoke.
Limp boiled hot dogs.
So much danger.
I edge away.
“She’s perfect.” Artur rubs a thumb along his stubbled jaw. “Send my thanks to your sister.”
“Enjoy getting to know each other,” Rachel says sweetly. “You have so much to plan before her heat.”
I duck, but the Brauns surround me.
Trapped.
My breathing picks up.
Six.
I can’t fight six alphas at once.
Have to run.
They herd me toward the side door. When I try to push between their thick bodies, Artur grabs my arm so hard I yelp.
