Page 42 of Rejected Wolf

When Dylan opened the door at the top, we stepped through into an office that just screamed evil-villain-lair chic. It looked almost as large as the club downstairs, and one whole wall was made up of windows that looked down over the dance floor, the flashing colored lights reflecting off the ceiling. Every inch of the place was black, from the floor of polished granite that glittered like the night sky, to the massive desk that nearly dominated one entire wall. There was an area for socializing, with a low coffee table and several squishy-looking couches made of the most buttery leather I’d ever seen. It didn’t look like we’d have time to enjoy them, though, as a man walked toward us wearing a designer suit. If he weren’t smiling, I would’ve been terrified for my life. He looked enough like Dylan that I knew it must’ve been his father, but there was a hardness to him I instantly distrusted. This was not a man to piss off.

“There you are! Glad you could make it,” he said with slick charm, giving Dylan a hug.

“Hey, Dad. Thanks for the help on such short notice.”

“I just wish you would let me do more.” He gave Tristan a hug next, then shook Shan and Jude’s hands. He paused when he saw me clinging to Jude. “You’re new.” His nostrils flared on an inhale. “Human?” he said, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Jude perhaps a bit skeptically. I tensed, waiting for him to criticize me, but he seemed to know better. Instead, he said, “Welcome to the family,” then took my hand and bowed, kissing the back of it. “Call me Joe.”

I cleared my throat, drawing my hand back as gently as I could so I didn’t cause offense. “Morgan.”

Joe stepped back, gesturing out the window to the dance floor below. “So, how do you all like my new club?”

We moved farther into the room, and I stared down at the undulating mass of people. It wasn’t until now that it really hit me how quiet it was up here. They must’ve soundproofed the hell out of these walls.

“Looks the same as the last time I was here,” Dylan teased with a smile, shrugging.

Joe grinned back. “The best kind of investment is the one that doesn’t need to be upgraded in order to turn a profit.” His smile slipped as he let his gaze move over us. He stopped on Shan. “I have what you asked for. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Shan tipped his chin up. “We’re protecting our home. I’m surprised you of all people would question that.”

“Not questioning, just making sure you’re not in over your head. I would gladly offer you more men, more firepower. I would raze those human parasites to the ground if you’d let me—no offense,” he blurted, eyes flicking to me.

“None taken. I hate to think I share a species with those… slugs.” I needed to work on my insults.

Joe smiled kindly at me, nodding in approval. “Would anyone like a drink?”

Before I could nod, Dylan said, “Sorry, we’re in a hurry. We have no clue how much time we have to work with, and the kids are at home.”

“Very well. You can pull the truck around back to load up, and I’ll send a few of my guys first thing in the morning to help protect your family while you go do what you have to do.”

“Dad—” Dylan began, shaking his head.

“I insist,” Joe said, those eyes flashing a deep bronze color. “I won’t leave my grandson unprotected.

It looked like Dylan was going to argue, but Tristan put a hand on his arm. “Thank you. Your help is appreciated.”

After farewells, we headed back the way we came, emerging on the snowy sidewalk once more. While we piled back into the truck, I heard Dylan grumble, “Dammit, Tristan, you know how I feel about my dad’s business. I don’t want those thugs near the kids.”

“Hey…” Tristan pulled Dylan into an intimate embrace, their foreheads together, eyes closed. “Gods forbid something should go wrong, we would be glad to have the best bodyguards money can buy. At least we know they won’t hesitate to shoot.”

No one disagreed with that argument, and a dark pall fell over the group as we pulled around to the back of the club and loaded up unmarked boxes of gear and supplies, strapping them down so they wouldn’t shift in the flatbed while we drove.

There was no denying we were about to get our hands dirty.

It had been along day, and this deep in the winter, there weren’t a whole lot of sunlight hours. It was dark long before we’d headed back to the woods. In the warmth of the truck’s cab, I found my eyelids getting heavy and soon gave up the fight with sleep. The morning sickness might have passed after being reunited with my mate, but the hormone changes were here to stay, and I was fucking exhausted.

I woke up when the truck began to slow, the ticking of the turn signal loud in the oppressive silence in the cab. I sat up from where Jude had rested my head in his lap, and I wiped drool from my cheek, blinking in confusion. “This isn’t home… Where are we?”

It was a town; nothing too fancy, just a paved two-lane road cutting through a collection of homes, a general store, and a gas station, where we were currently pulling up to park. There was none of that rural come-on-in-for-tea vibe. If anything, I felt a very clear fuck-right-off. It was probably the beefy man who stepped out of the gas station armed with a shotgun. He had brown hair past his shoulders and a braided beard down his chest. Along with the bulging tattooed biceps on display in his tank top, he looked like some kind of Viking—one who didn’t give a shit that it was winter.

“Uhhh…” I shifted uneasily, suddenly feeling incredibly claustrophobic trapped in the back seat of the truck between Jude and Dylan. Why didn’t they look nervous? Beyond Jude putting a possessive hand on my thigh, he seemed cool as a cucumber. “Shouldn’t we be going? I don’t think we’re welcome here.”

“It’s fine,” Shan said, rolling down the window. “They knew we were coming, and they know better than to break the treaty. Isn’t that right, Pacey?”

The Viking grunted and jerked his head toward the gas station. “He’s in back.”

They opened the doors and started hopping out, but I had a distinct rule about following armed strangers. “You know, I think I’m good right here. You guys go ahead without me. Fill me in on what happened when you get back.”

Jude leaned back into the truck while the others walked toward the gas station to give us some semblance of privacy. He took my hand, rubbing his thumb over the pulse point at my wrist. “Hey, it’s okay, Mo. If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to.”

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