Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I’ve got my port seal,” I say. “I’m legit.”
He chuckles under his breath. “The last thing you are is legit, little girl.”
“If you ever call me a little girl again, I will shoot you, and it will be with a silver bullet,” I tell him. My voice is even and cool, like steel. I mean each and every word.
The alpha’s brows rise at me. He didn’t expect me to say that. He thought I was going to swoon as he diminished me.
“You know you are a very small female,” he says.
“I am a grown woman. I am nineteen years old.”
He snorts at me, as if me saying I am nineteen is an admission of being a baby. I have been an adult for an entire year, and I have spent that year doing as many adult things as possible. If he had any idea of all I had done, he wouldn’t be calling me a little girl.
I remind myself that him thinking of me as small and cute, and not a problem, is probably a good thing. If I want to get away with everything I am trying to get away with, it’s definitely a plus.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister,” I say, feigning innocence. “Wait. Is that an officer?”
They all look the other way. Even if they think I’m bluffing, the one thing worse than whatever they think I am is an undercover officer. One stray law enforcement official could mean an impending raid or worse. It’s not something they can afford to ignore, and I know it.
The second their eyes slide away from me, I run.
It’s not pretty.
It’s a fucking mess. I instantly trip, get tangled in people’s legs, and start scrabbling for the exit.
The only reason it works is because the bar is so full and I am relatively small and agile. They get hung up on the crush of humanity and whatever else is here, but I can squirm underneath the tables and make for the service entrance.
Damon
“Little shit is fast,” Conroy growls as he lunges after the small female and misses her entirely.
We were going to make an example of the girl who thought she could sneak cargo through this port without paying us our cut. This harbor is under our protection. Nothing comes or goes through here that we don’t know about. The port seals aren’t transferable. The second hers was scanned and showed the ID of a sixty-year-old man, a waitress called us.
Counterfeits have been a problem. We were planning on putting an end to that tonight.
“Shouldn’t have grabbed her,” Tailor says. “Or rather, shouldn’t have let her go once you had her.”
Conroy runs his hand through his hair in frustration while I stay quiet, like usual. Things got complicated quickly. She’s not a human, for starters. We thought she was just a spoiled brat girl looking to try her luck in the port. The place does attract quite a few people who think nerve is all it takes.
But she is not a human.
She’s a wolf. Like us.
They’re rare out this way. They’re rare out every way. Wolf shifters have historically been hunted viciously by humans who were convinced that they ate babies. Legends about wolves who walk go back hundreds of years. As a result, we have been persecuted and hunted to near extinction. The exception is Eclipse City, where wolves have set themselves up as the royal family and wield true power.
“Are we going to talk about the fact she came into heat the second you touched her?” Tailor keeps talking even as he rises to give chase.
The plan was to whip her ass in front of everyone, give the tavern a damn good show and make an example of her that would not soon be forgotten. Sometimes, legendary punishments can be told of for generations. That was our plan. Might still be.
“We don’t need to talk about that.”
“Don’t we? It means she’s your mate.”
Conroy throws a look at him. “You mean our mate. We all felt it. I saw the way you two reacted to her. And that scent is not for one man. It’s enough to draw in every alpha with a dick in a ten-mile radius. She’s ripe for claiming. Overdue. Now let’s go get her.”
“She’s already got out the door,” Tailor says.
“We’ve got her cargo. She’s not going anywhere. We’ll hunt her down, and we’ll show her what pack discipline really means,” Conroy growls.
We start moving. The crowd parts for us far too late to make any real difference, but that does not bother us. We’ll catch her. We know it.
While we search, I play my memories of her over and over in my mind.
My mate is beautiful. Truly stunning. She has big brown eyes and dark brown hair. She is thick and curvy and the expression on her pretty round face can best be described as troubled.