Page 20 of The Wolf She Shouldn't Desire

The door clicks open before closing quickly as he slides into my room behind me. I keep my back to him. “Everything okay?”

“Not even a little bit. My father wants to finally fulfill the agreement we made with the Timore coven twenty years ago.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me. He can’t possibly think that is a good idea. You’ll tear that coven apart.”

“That’s what I told him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

I turn to face him, and Danny’s face immediately morphs into pure rage as he hisses and approaches me. “Did he do that to your face?”

Nodding in confirmation, I let him look at the damage. I don’t hide it or bow my head in humiliation. I won’t hide the violence my father enjoys inflicting on me, and I won’t cower as if I can’t handle the pain and am weak. I’ve dealt with far worse in the past and don’t see it stopping anytime soon. It’s just the way of vampire culture. The leader chooses how to lead and control his coven, and the father can discipline his children however he sees fit. Medieval, but what do you expect from a species that lives for hundreds of years on average?

After a few more seconds, I retreat into my closet. I don’t want to be in this house anymore, and I deserve a drink—or several—after the debacle with my father. “I’m going to Depraved. You coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll come. Want a few others to go with us or just us two?”

“Grab the fab four and meet me in the garage.”

Danny chuckles, “Alright.” He always thinks it’s funny when I call the four other vampires in the coven that I can trust to have my back and who have the same views and morals as me, the fab four. They’re thick as thieves, too. If I hadn’t known them their whole lives, I would have said they are brothers, but they allcome from different families.They treat me as their little sister to protect even though I’m slightly older and can wipe the floor with them every time we spar together.

An hour later we walk into Depraved, and I slowly start to relax or at least as much as I can out in public with other vampires and werewolves surrounding us.

“We’ll grab drinks if you and Danny want to confiscate our usual table,” Asher yells over the loud music thumping through the club.

Danny nods, and we head to get our table as Asher and the others—Nolan, Kane, and Damien—head towards the bar. A few occupants are sitting at our usual table, but when they see us approaching, they quickly gather their drinks and move. It’s unspoken in the club that this is where Danny and I usually take up space when we are here, and the few idiots that didn’t get the memo in the past quickly learned. It’s a slightly elevated and large sitting area with three couches that curve around a table in the center. The couches face the main floor with a large gap between two leading down to the main floor. The space allows the occupants to gather while at the same time provide an open view of the entire club.Perfect for enjoying drinks and company while at the same time keeping eyes on the rest of the club’s occupants.

Glancing around, there are bodies everywhere, either dancing, talking in groups at tables, or a few sitting solo likely waiting for others to join them. The familiar noises and smells of the club surround me, bringing about a sense of familiarity and security within me. I know this place. I know what to expect and have power here in who I am and what I do. No one but me dictates what I do or who I am here. I have control and with that comes power.

Asher and Kane come to the table and hand Danny and I our drinks before sitting to join the other two of their group whojust sat down on the other couches. As I take a sip of my drink, I feel a tingle on the side of my face, similar to a soft electrical caress indicating someone is looking at me. I look up to find the source, but can’t pin exactly who caused the tingle of awareness in being watched in me as I catch several eyes avert when I catch them looking. After a minute, I shake off the feeling but keep myself on alert as I turn to talk with Danny and the others.

After an hour, we are laughing as we rib each other while reminiscing over tales of the idiotic or simply funny things we have done over the years. My legs are bent to the side on the couch, and I feel more relaxed than I have in a while, enjoying the company of those I trust and care about. This is what I needed. My bladder, on the other hand, needs the bathroom right about now.

“I’ll be right back,” I say as I get up.

“Where are you going?” Danny sits up straighter as if he is ready to follow me.

“I have to use the bathroom and no, you cannot come with me. I can handle the short trip there and back on my own.” I kiss his cheek and walk towards the hallway that will lead me to the bathroom. It’s also the hallway where Jordan pulled me into one of the back rooms.My eyes stay focused straight ahead, not looking at the room but my mind doesn’t get the memo of ignoring the past and brings forth the memories of the wolf and I in the dark, close enough to breath each other in.

Remembering that moment is the exact reason why I don’t notice someone behind me until they wrap an arm around my waist and quickly yank me into one of the back rooms. The only thing stopping me from lashing out physically or verbally is the faint recognition of the arm around me and the scent of rich forest and something spicy that belongs to the person who just pulled me into this room.

He spins me around to face him, and icy blue eyes look down at me, crowned with a furrowed brow.

“Pulling me into rooms without my consent seems to be a nasty habit of yours, Jordan.” My slightly still lingering guilt of how I treated him the last time I saw him has me using his name instead of simply calling him wolf.

One of his hands rises allowing him to grip my chin and turn my face to the side slightly. “Who the hell hit you, Talia?” he growls.

I stare at him a bit stunned. That is not what I was expecting him to say when he pulled me into this room. I don’t know what I expected but that definitely was not it. The bruise on my face courtesy of dear old dad is barely visible anymore to where you would have to be looking for it or very observant in the change on my face suggesting a keen familiarity with me in order to notice it.

“Who said anyone hit me?” I whisper.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls low in his throat that’s laced with barely restrained anger. “I noticed the slight discoloration on your face indicating someone or something has come into contact with your facevery hardas soon as you sat down at your table. Now, tell me. Who. Fucking. Hit. You?”

For him to notice the evidence of my father’s blows on the side of my face at all and so quickly upon my arrival in the club shows he is very observant and has been watching me closely.

“It doesn’t matter,” I respond.

“It matters to me,” he growls again.

“It doesn’t matter,” I repeat through clenched teeth. “So, leave it alone. Besides, I can fight my own battles in case you forgot.”

---