Page 1 of Drew

Prologue

As dusk descended on the small Maine village, Mitch watched from the shadows as Alyssa unloaded a large canvas with the help of a gallery staff member. The bulky boots were at odds with the delicate dress she wore beneath her winter coat. Black material twisted around her sleek, toned legs as she picked her way around slush piles and snow drifts.

Between fat, falling snowflakes, he glimpsed her latest piece—a forest bathed in red. The small peek wasn’t enough from across the street, but he’d get a better look tomorrow when he visited the gallery.

It had been over twenty long months since he’d first spotted Alyssa at a small county fair, working at a venue booth to sell her paintings. She’d smiled politely and coyly sidestepped his attempts at flattery. But he wouldn’t be thwarted easily, not when her scent was so intriguing. Even with the perfume, he could tell she was a rarity.

So Mitch had followed her across the country. Clearly, she enjoyed traveling, something they had in common. He’d lost her for a bit in the southern states but picked up her scent again in Kentucky before tracking her up to Maine.

It was a pity he wouldn’t be able to attend the gallery showing tonight, but if he could win the pot in tonight’s game, he’d be set for a while. He’d have enough funds in his account to acquire two of the things he most desired. A painting to remember Miss Alyssa Mayer, and the artist herself, even if just for a night or two.

His dick jerked against his pants at the thought of finally having her. His long wait would soon be over. And if she stubbornly refused his efforts again, he’d have the means to disappear after he’d had her a dozen times. No human could track him. Any crime he might commit would go unpunished, and with no family to help her, he doubted his little artist would pose all that much of a challenge once she understood precisely what he wanted from her.

Chapter One

“What the hell are we doing here?” The beta grumbled as they paid the admission fee before pushing between patrons in the brightly lit lobby. “You don’t really expect me to believe you suddenly appreciate art?”

Singularly focused, Drew glanced around the room, searching for his prey, but finding only elite guests and gallery staff. Most of the attendees were well-to-do couples, mainly businessmen with their trophy wives looking to purchase a wall hanging from the next up-and-coming artist. Likely something overpriced that they could later brag to their stuffy friends about.

Drew wasn’t interested in the art but in the artist. One in particular, whose work was being showcased tonight at Platinum Delight Art.

Callum shook the snow from his coat and continued to bitch. Usually, they’d be at the bar on a snowy evening like tonight or out on a run with the pack.

“Quit whining. We’ll be going on a hunt later tonight. Just indulge me in this first.” Drew glanced over the pamphlet they had handed him at the door and reminded Callum, “You didn’t have to come, you know. In fact, I don’t remember inviting you.”

Callum grinned. “When you said you were going to an art show, I knew there had to be a reason. I can suffer through this for a bit to ferret out whatever’s at the root of this sudden interest.”

Drew shook his head and walked toward the first room, exiting the small, crowded lobby.

With Callum’s long-legged stride, he caught up in no time. “I’m betting it’s a woman.”

“Enough,” Drew whispered as he surveyed the room. She wasn’t here. Before trudging off toward the next art-filled room, Drew told Callum, “Just look at the fancy pictures on the wall and leave me the hell alone.”

Behind him, he heard his friend chuckle. “Yep. Definitely a woman.”

Ignoring his beta, Drew examined the canvases that crowded the walls. As Callum had put it, suffer might just be the right word. Neither Drew nor Callum had an artistic bone in their bodies. Drew owned and operated a company that manufactured grills and BBQs. Many of his pack members worked for him in the factory or at the bird sanctuary he’d created. Years ago, he’d invested in a large, wooded property, using a portion of it to create a sanctuary where injured birds were rescued and rehabilitated. The land was over a hundred acres of forest that also accommodated his home and gave his pack a safe space to run and hunt.

Drew spent his days working with his hands, crafting new models, building grills for the showroom, and staring at spreadsheets for hours on end. Art was not his thing.

On one wall hung a painting of something that looked like an alien. Drew was pretty sure it was supposed to be a person. Or maybe a horse. Or hell, a fucking flamingo. What the piece was trying to say, he had no idea. In another room was a mural taking up an entire wall, featuring a creature with big teeth and horns. A troll, perhaps, but Drew had no clue why anyone would design such a thing and understood even less why anyone would purchase it.

Drew squashed the impulse to cringe at the nasty-looking thing with so many people around. Nearby, an elder couple oohed and ahhed over it. Next to him, Callum was barely muffling his laughter.

Ignoring his beta, Drew continued farther into the room to examine a group of marionettes, all of which had long faces with elaborate face paint. Callum wandered over and shuddered. “I fuckin’ hate clowns.”

Drew had to agree.

So far, he had seen nothing like what he’d been expecting. He was sure she’d told him her paintings were landscapes. None of the art he’d seen so far fit that description. Maybe he’d misunderstood her. Maybe her showcase was another night. He glanced at the pamphlet and saw Alyssa Mayer. He hadn’t misheard her, but how many more rooms would he have to search before he found her? How big was this place?

In the adjoining room, as they stood viewing a sculpture made entirely from dice, Callum took an appetizer from a passing waiter. “At least the food is good.”

Fighting a grin, Drew shook his head.

“What the fuck do you think this is supposed to be?” Callum’s whisper echoed in the bare room, drawing attention from the few patrons around the perimeter.

Growing frustrated, Drew no longer cared what the others thought of them. He suspected this was a waste of time. He motioned to the die fastened together. “How long do you suppose it took to make that?”

“It took him four months,” a female voice answered behind them.

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