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"Deal." He smirked and another kiss descended onto my craving lips. "Only because I don't want you cutting my cock off for trying to take your independence away."
"As if that stops you from stalking the hell out of me," I grumbled. "You might as well register yourself as a stalker offender."
"Would be valid if I stalked more than one person." He went along with my comment. "I stalk you for the sake of my own sanity. Plus, you like the added attention."
"Says who?"
"Says Aurelia," he revealed and watched me frown in disappointment. "Your bestie talks too much when she's drunk."
"I'm well aware." I sighed. "She wouldn't give out my dark secrets though."
"Like the fact you can change into a guy and run the biggest set of businesses on your old man's behalf because he's getting older and stupider by the month?" Onyx suggested. "Or ain't that a dark enough secret?"
That made me laugh as I slipped the skin-tight elastic material over my thick hips.
"I'm merely the hidden person who makes sure things go smoothly since half of those working around my fucked-up dad don't do shit and he knows it. As for the stupid part, ya. That ain't a secret. We all see that."
"Why do you put yourself in those male shoes and walk into his claws for eight hours a day, five days a week again?" he asked. "I forgot the reasoning."
"Liar," I replied and reached for my sports bra. He watched me put on the elastic fabric, watching it hug my breasts and keep them secure in their tight hold.
"Still forgetful?" I asked as he licked his lips. "You ain't getting these for answering correctly," I added because Onyx loved to play random sick games that always led to hot passionate sex, which I was honestly fine with, but not in the mood for.
"Hmmm." He pretended to think about it as he began to get changed into the spare clothes I indeed left for him.
I sometimes knew him better than he did himself, and I only say sometimes because other times he was an unpredictable mother fucker with a cynical brain. Those were the times when all bets were off and you relied on pure survival of the fittest to get out of whatever mind fuck he’d placed you in.
He finished putting on his fitted shirt, which accented all his muscles, as he closed and locked the door then turned to face me. Crossing his arms over his chest, which made the branded shirt expand, he answered, "It's your way of being in control of some avenue of your life during eight hours of captured hell."
His answer forced me to remain silent because he hit the head of the nail right on, which I hadn't expected. His smug look and twinkling eyes were followed with him walking up to me until my back was against the lockers and he was towering over me.
"It burns every bit of your soul that you can't be among our community. That you can't be one of us, even though your eyes give off that cold sensation of power that reflects in that sick bastard's commanding gaze. You can smell just as good as us, run faster than an Olympian, fight like a man." He paused when I arched an eyebrow at his comment, only to chuckle and move in closer as he lowered further so our lips brushed as he spoke.
"And moan like a fucking goddess," he growled. "You’re gifted at using all those various fighting techniques that I'm positive you've learned only once. Dangerous, powerful in the realms of magic, even though you act like you're nothing but a novice.”
He was bringing up qualities that I hadn't realized he'd captured with his own eyes, my dazzled jewels searching his that looked into mine with pure admiration.
As though we were truly on equal footing with one another.
"All you're missing is a wolf, Sweet Sugar, but I know she's somewhere in there. Waiting. Preparing. Enduring that impatient urge to come out and prove all those fuckers wrong. All the individuals who looked down upon us for being late bloomers. To put them all to shame and force them to bow down with that Alpha power that thrums within that very blood of yours."
The kiss he delivered held a bitter sweetness to it, one that was raw with the emotions we fought hard to not show one another, yet here was one of those prime moments of rarity where he allowed me to see the soft, caring side of him. The one that could invite me right into his hidden warmth and enjoy the molten heat of passion he cradled only for me.
"I love how after nine years, you still believe I'm a capable late bloomer." I allowed my hands to reach out to lay upon his chest, enjoying the soft silky fabric of his white shirt with the large LV symbol in the front. Going on my tiptoes, I kissed him, which is my form of thanking him for still giving a shred about me.
For believing I'm worthy of his time and attention, and not a mere sex slave that deserves to be locked in the dungeons for useless beings like many of those who were deemed "human" by the pack.
"Time ain't getting rid of you, Willow." Those haunting eyes bored into mine with intensity. "Who else is going to withstand my sarcasm and death threats?"
"Viktor," I answered with a grin as he groaned.
"That ex-assassin will be the death of me!"
"He wouldn't kill you," I reasoned.
"That's because you told him not to," he acknowledged.
"True, but see? You're still alive, even though I have a growing suspicion you did something to get yourself killed by him," I noted. "Again."
