Page 5 of The Wolf She Shouldn't Desire

“I can hear your brain going a million miles an hour and see your knuckles are white from clenching your fists.”

“And?” I ask

Danny sighs. “What has you so worked up? We got the wolfsbane, didn’t have to pay that asshole for it, and you left him with the parting gift of two slashes on his face. Are you mad you didn’t get to kill him?”

“In part,” I mumble.

We keep walking in silence, and Danny says nothing else. I can tell he is waiting me out, and he knows me well enough that the silence along with my thoughts and frustration will have me exploding with the need to rage and vent to him. The asshole, I think begrudgingly and fondly. No one else can get away with waiting me out in silence, but he’s my confident in everything and the only one I feel comfortable in venting to about anything on my mind without fear of it being used against me in the future.

Tension builds in me until it feels like my skin is vibrating with the anger inside me that continues to increase as the silence draws out longer. Finally, I snap.

“Fucking men,” I yell. “What the hell made him think that I needed any help from him? Why would he even try to help me if Ididneed any help anyways?”

Danny looks at me curiously. “The werewolf has you this worked up?”

“Yes! He seemed so confident and cocky that he was being helpful, like I was some damsel in distress, and he was going to be the knight in shining armor that would come in and rescue me from Jackson. But all he did was make it to where Jackson—that egotistical fuckwad—got away instead of burning in hell right now. Plus I’m out of a trophy that would have been glorious on my wall.”

“The smell after a few days would have made it not so glorious, Talia,” he jokes half-heartedly. He continues, “We’ve dealt with cocky werewolves before. Ones that acted all high and mighty in being superior to us, but you’ve never had this reaction before. What’s different?”

What was the difference? Danny was right to wonder. We have had to deal with our fair share of egotistical wolves in the past, and the one from tonight won’t be the last. So, why was I so angry?

I continue to mull it over as we approach the coven’s house, a large three-story mansion covered in sandstone brick worn down slight by time and elements with vines of ivy crawling up its walls in some areas. The house glows in the night from the warm lights spilling out of most of the windows and the spotlights shining on the yard from various corners. A few guards can be seen posted around the property on watch duty making sure nothing and no one tries to trespass. One or two nod to me in acknowledgement while others ignore me, whetherout of hatred or they are focused on their watch to bother beats me. I don’t care either.

We enter through the front door and make our way towards my father’s office where we find him behind his large desk where he conducts most, if not all, coven business as coven leader. My father is a tall and lean man with hair that matches mine, reaching to his shoulder blades when unbound. Today, he has it tied back in his usual ponytail at the base of his skull. His eyes differ from mine in that they are brown. I get my green eyes from my mother who passed away many years ago. He wears black slacks with a charcoal long sleeve dress shirt. He always wears something of the sort so as to look like he is prepared for business at any hour of the day. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in jeans and a t-shirt. No doubt he thinks that would allow others to undermine his authority and power or become too comfortable around him. Can’t have that now, can we? The leader of the most powerful coven in the city and surrounding areas can’t risk his power and authority being forgotten even for a second.

“Ah, you’re back, and I see you have something for me,” he states as he continues to look down at his desk where several documents lay.

Danny lays the briefcase on the desk and opens it. I let out a pent-up breath that I didn’t realize I was holding once I see the wolfsbane inside. We hadn’t checked it on our way home as I was too distracted with thoughts of the wolf that tried to “save me,” which isn’t normal. I’m rarely distracted. Part of me was suspicious that Jackson would have no qualms about screwing us over and not bringing it to the meeting when we were on our way to the meeting spot, and I should have checked it before handing it over to father but I didn’t. Get it together, Talia.

“Any issues?” my father asks.

I fill him in on what occurred tonight with our meeting with Jackson, and the subsequent events that followed with Jackson, his guards, and then the werewolves. My father looks up at the mention of the werewolves that charged in and interfered with our business but otherwise does not say anything.

After I finish with my report, my father stands there silently rubbing his jaw for a minute before he asks, “Did you kill the wolves?”

“No,” I answer. “There was no need. And we had to get out of there fast since they were trying to prevent us from taking the wolfsbane.”

“Hmmm,” is all that comes from my father in response.

My father does not particularly like werewolves, like most vampires, but he tolerates them as long as they do not bother us, as he knows it would be foolish to expend his efforts and resources in fighting them in the conflict that would arise if hedidfocus on them. Both vampires and werewolves have their own differing strengths, but to outright attack any wolves with no legitimate reason is asking for an invitation for war and to bring attention to either species from the humans.

“Very well. You may go.”

That’s my father for you. He keeps it straightforward and tends to leave out any emotions as this is business we are talking about. No indication of potential worry for his daughter. Not that he needs to worry because he is aware of my skills and abilities to handle such situations without any trouble. He as well as various other teachers he brought in trained me to make sure I was the optimal weapon for him and the coven.

Danny and I turn and leave the room.

“I need a shower and bed now,” I say to Danny as we ascend the stairs towards our rooms on the third floor.

“I need a drink,” Danny quips. “See you tomorrow for training?”

“Always,” I reply.

As I shower, I replay the events of the night in my head. The anger and frustration regarding Jackson and the audacity of his added “options” along with him trying to double the price arises again. It then merges with the anger and frustration of the werewolves jumping into the fight to “save” me.

Once I finish my shower, I dress in a large t-shirt and underwear, my favorite sleeping attire, and get under the covers of my bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I try to think further on Danny’s question. What’s different with this werewolf? Why am I so worked up about him when we have dealt with several others like him? Granted, other wolves have never claimed to be trying to help me, but still, the ego and such is all the same.

Yes, I am irritated by the whole knight coming to the aid of the supposed damsel in distress mentality he had, but there is more. There was something about him that I was drawn to. He had to be the most attractive male––either vampire, werewolf, or human––that I have ever encountered, which is saying something as I’ve been alive for almost a century and have met a lot of males. But looks aren’t everything. He did fight against Jackson in an impressive manner that showed he was focused and lethal in every move. Something that has always been attractive to me. A man who is focused and lethal in the way he fights? Yes, please. He also had a presence about him that exuded power and demanded my attention, which is only ever really seen with alphas of werewolf packs, but was even more intense than any alpha I have encountered in the past. Otherwise, I can’t pinpoint anything else that was notable or that would elicit such a reaction out of me. So, what was it?

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