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I lost track of how many times I had asked that same question. Each time, he would avoid it distracting me with the touch of his hand or the brush of his lips along a part of me I didn’t realize would be so sensitive to him.
‘Why am I doing this? What is going on with me?’ I thought as I pulled the man tighter against me.
This wasn’t me. Not how I would normally act. This was far more than the usual make out sessions I might have enjoyed from time to time. Never in my life would I let any man do anything more than kiss me. But there I was, wrapping my naked body around him like a hungry cobra, pulling him tighter and tighter against my flesh.
I wondered if the wallpaper would leave a colorful imprint on my back as he pressed me to the wall, my sweat-slicked skin sticking to the hard flat surface. Yet as he moved us to my bed, I felt myself missing the wall for a moment.
For hours, he flipped me around on my bed. My mind was a mess of lustful thoughts, muddled with the singular question that the mystery man had yet to answer. Who was he, and why was he in my room?
I could feel my body growing tired even as he continued to move along my body. He licked and nibbled along my skin, his mouth tasting every slick inch of my body.
The last thing I remembered before sleep taking over was his head between my legs and my hands pulling at his head as I cried out for every god and goddess that ever existed in this world, praising him as a god among their ranks.
In my dreams, I could see the man’s face. His smile filled me with peace. His arms around my shoulder gave me a sense of protection. Everything around us blurred, but I could feel my emotions clearly as I gazed into the stranger’s dark, mysterious eyes.
The dream shifted to another moment. The blurred scene around us was filled with panic, the muffled sounds of screams sending my heart rate spiking. I tried to clear the fog of my mind.
It was a premonition. I knew it was; but once again, the only thing I could see clearly was that man’s face. Unlike his smile, his eyes were brimming with tears. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear anything he was saying. I watched as his eyes moved from me to the blurred scene around us.
“What is it? What is going on?” I yelled, although he showed no sign of hearing me.
In the surrounding blur, I could just make out the colors of the scene as it surrounded me. I could make the shapes of shifting wolves out and flashes of magic thrown at some of the wolf shapes. I detected the bright crimson color of fresh blood being shed.
I looked back at the man to see his eyes on me, widened with shock as though he had just realized something. Then blackness. I stood in a void of nothingness. The man’s face and the hazy scene of battle were now gone.
“What does any of this mean?” I called out to the fates as if they would answer me. “Who is he?”
I received no answer. Not that I was surprised. The fates never explain themselves. They only give the messages they deem necessary to share with mortal beings like me. The only thing that came clear in their message was that this mystery man who sowed such pleasure in my body would reap chaos for the pack.
My eyes flew open. The sun was shining brightly through my open window and on my mattress, where he had been. It was now empty.
“Who the hell was he?” I asked myself aloud, growling as I pulled the curtains closed. “And how the fuck did he get in and out of my room with no one in this packhouse noticing?”
My exhausted body collapsed back onto the bed. I set my alarm to go off in time for breakfast, then went back to sleep. I would deal with the guards on duty after and figure out a better course of action to keep unwanted guests out.
Chapter Three
Xander
“No,” I sighed, pushing past Cheri to find my father. “I didn’t get caught.”
“Well, you look like you either got fucked or got into a fight. Are those scratches down your back?”
I groaned, throwing my ripped shirt over my back to hide the marks that my mate had left on my body. “Mind your business, Cheri.”
“Well, you are kind of my business, Xander,” she said. “You are everyone’s business. Everyone is going to want to know when they can go back home and see a Chios Alpha in command again.”
“Where is Dad?” I asked, ignoring her comment as I gave up searching around the bar for the old man.
Cheri rolled her eyes, pointing upstairs to the rooms. “He has that witch up there. He’ll be down in a couple of minutes. Your scent is coming back from that potion. He’ll come as soon as he smells you.”
Right as she finished speaking it, Father appeared, leaning over the banister and looking down at me with narrowed eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned, as were his jeans, but he made his way down the stairs and over to his booth in the back.
I glanced back up to the room he had come from, finding the dark veined witch puffing on a long slim cigarette as she looked down at me with emotionless eyes. Dad’s gruff voice called to me just as she closed the door to her room. He waved to me to sit with him in his booth.
The bar looked more like an old English tavern that you might see on TV. The rooms above were used by rogues to keep a pack-like existence, keeping everyone from going feral. It was no packhouse, but my father had built it by hand to be close as wecould get. And just like with those old taverns, there was more than just sleeping going on upstairs.
“Well?” Dad looked at me from head to toe, taking in the torn shirt and scratches along my arms and shoulders. “She put up a fight?”
