Page 17 of Alpha's Bullied Mate
My father may have seen the start of our family’s betrayal, but I would bring the end fight to the Randons’ doorstep.
A sign caught my eye as I considered childishly vandalizing the statue of Fenrys’s grandfather in the center of Silverlake Valley. It was no use. That wasn’t a big enough message. For all I knew, Fenrys didn’t care about the statue. I had to hit close and hit personal. Like the plan to take Thalia had been. With that plan ruined, my hope rode on Fenrys caring enough about Dakota.
I cursed under my breath. Why couldn’t my idiot guys have taken even the other woman in Fenrys’s pack? Lily, or Lila, or something like that. Her name escaped me, but I remembered her. A hard-edged girl who had played in the dirt with me as kids. I had crushed on her before leaving Silverlake Valley and meeting Dakota in Oak Hill’s high school. I had always stayed away, thinking she might naturally mate with Fenrys, but it had never happened.
Her name came to me as I crossed over to the joint she’d always talked about working when we were old enough. Lyna. We’d made plans to try our luck at being the town’s next best bartenders. Then the place was there, in front of me. The Inferno Lounge. Those childish dreams seemed stupid now—I had never properly liked it. It had been that effect of her being the only girl in a group of boys. We’d all had a crush on her at some point,despite her sharp, harsh ways. Had she followed through on that future we’d talked about, in this sense anyway?
Was I being stupid for going in there? There was zero likelihood that Lyna was in there. And when I went in, dressed in a tight t-shirt and leather jacket, my jeans a faded blue, I found only male bartenders. I was being stupid for thinking she might be there. And why? To smile at her and pretend like she wasn’t my enemy, even if she didn’t know it?
I rolled my eyes to myself and ordered a whiskey, neat. I took my drink to an empty couch at the back, just before the VIP booths. I took a sip, finding the peanut butter taste within the whiskey to be just bitter enough that I took another sip, wincing. There was something awful about this drink, but I craved it whenever I was faced with a bar.
A woman across the room caught my eye, and I let her look while I checked her out. Her hair was jet black, short, falling to only her shoulders. I managed a smile, wondering where the hell my game was. She tilted her head in that way that invited me over, or to keep looking. That was all I did, and only found myself disappointed when all her features were wrong.
Andwhy?
A small voice in the back of my head didn’t want to admit that it was because none of the women who were in the Inferno Lounge were Dakota, and as much as I despised my desire for them to be, I wished that they were.
Usually, I was good at compartmentalizing. Not this time.
I groaned. In high school, before graduation, I’d wanted Dakota. I’d bullied her mercilessly just to be noticed by her. When that didn’t work, I’d slept with almost every girl willing to get Dakota out of my head. Whenthatdidn’t work, I hadcounted down the days to graduation, thinking she would have left my life for good.
Now, here she was, back in it, and this time, I couldn’t even sleep with someone else to distract myself.
I ground my teeth, finished my drink, and left the bar. None of the people there had even remotely piqued my interest. I wasn’t a timewaster anymore. Returning to the house, I was in a foul mood. Fuck Dakota and her stupid pretty eyes, acting innocent and doe-like, when she was anything but. Underneath, there was rage; there was fury, and I could see that she’d been taught to tamper it down.
I stormed into the house, walking right into the living room. Dakota hadn’t been sleeping. Her head snapped up when I approached.
Chapter 10 - Dakota
When Aidan crossed the room, he brought the energy of a storm with him. It swirled around him, and if I thought hard enough, I thought that restlessness might be enough to create electricity. That’s how intense he felt. His eyes were dark, cast in dramatic shadow by the night all around us. Nobody stayed in here with me, and my hands were tied, so the curtains remained open all hours of the day.
“Have you come to let me go?” I asked, my voice hoarse from disuse and dehydration. How long ago had Ryan given me that sip of water? Hours? A day? How long had Aidan left? I’d heard him avoiding crossing me again, leaving out of his bedroom window. The scent of strong cedarwood cologne had followed him out, torturing me the whole time he’d been gone. Now he smelt of whiskey and leather, both mingling with his cologne.
He smelt mouth-watering, and I hated myself for thinking it.
Aidan didn’t answer me. He only let me face that distant silence he could maintain. It had always been unnerving. He’d done it on the school bus, in class, even during class debates. That cold, withdrawnnothingnessthat he built up around himself like an impenetrable wall. Something had bothered him tonight. What had done the trick?
Unfortunately, his silence let my gaze travel him from head to toe. His dark hair, hanging in loose waves to his shoulders. A white t-shirt clung to his muscular frame, his collarbones hidden beneath thick pecs that was emphasized by the shirt’s fabric. Even the leather jacket was fitted, showing off the hint of biceps he clearly worked hard to keep. The shirt hungto a waistband of faded jeans, tucked behind a belt buckle that had my mouth going dry.
Attraction. That was what this was. It had a sour taste in the back of my throat. The sourness of the sort of candy that if you kept it in your mouth for long enough, it turned sweet. Except I didn’t think anything about Aidan Tyrone could ever be sweet.
Aidan walked forward, closing the last few paces of distance between us. When I only met his gaze, hoping none of my fear showed and all of my anger, he leaned over me with one arm. With another he reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a knife. My breath caught as he snapped the blade open with a lever.
“What are you—”
He dropped to one knee and pressed the blade against my wrist. Again, that stony silence held him distantly from me, despite the closeness. I felt the blade’s kiss for a moment before he slid it through the bind, and, with a hard tug, he sliced them. A teardrop of blood ran down my wrist. His gaze flicked to mine, then back to the blood. He pressed a finger to it, wiping it away, and then lifted it to his lips.
He did not do the same with the other wrist, keeping me bound. Instead, he walked away, and I thought I’d get some peace from his intrusive energy, and disappeared into the kitchen only to return with a glass of cold water. He pressed it into my now-free hand.
When I didn’t move to drink, he took a sip to prove to me that there was nothing to send me into that awful black drugged place again. Ryan hadn’t tricked me, and now Aidan hadn’t, either. But they had at the start. I could not—would not—forgetthat easily. Two shows of kindness didn’t outweigh the one act of violence that landed me in their pack.
Finally, he spoke. “You will gain a semblance of freedom every time you tell me more about Fenrys’s pack.”
“We’ve been through this,” I answered, making myself sound bored. With my free hand, I lifted the water to my lips, grateful for the hydration. I closed my eyes, letting out a relieved sound. When I reopened them, I found Aidan’s narrowed on me. “What?”
“Nothing,” he snapped. There was that spark of energy again. While I couldn’t directlyreadenergy or auras, my wolf senses never quite seemed to leave me as much as they should when I shifted to my human form. Where, as wolves, we were all more acutely aware of each other’s emotions, that awareness remained.
Aidan was restless, antsy, like he had livewires beneath his skin.
