Page 15 of Depraved
Hours later,my eyes drift open again. This time, the sun is up. It’s shining all bright and cheery and shit. The exact opposite of how I feel.
I move stiffly around on the bed, pushing up onto an elbow. My entire body is one giant bruise. I turn and see Elena sleeping peacefully next to me. So she pleasured herself with Black, but then slept next to me. What is that about?
I don’t have the mental energy to analyze what the fuck that means. Right now, my body is calling the shots, not my head. And I’m starving.
It takes three tries, but finally I’m able to get out of the bed and stand on my own two feet. I have to grab one of the bedposts, and my legs shake, but standing is standing. I glance down to realize I’m wearing a white t-shirt and standard pack-issued sweatpants, the kind we keep for shifting. At least I’m not going to have to try to bend and dress myself.
I smell stew, and my stomach growls. But there are no dishes inside the room. The smell is a damned tease. Guess I’ll have to go hunting.
The avatar of my wolf appears and paces the air in front of me, lifting his nose and sniffing. He must find a scent he likes because he suddenly lifts a foot and straightens out his tail, nose pointing just like a hunting dog.
“Don’t embarrass yourself. You’re not a mutt,” I grumble at him as I shuffle my feet forward. I’m surprised by how much effort that takes and how much each step makes an ache blow right through me.I have to stop at least four times and lean against the handrail, panting. That sort of weakness scares me. It means I really was an inch from death.
When I finally stumble all the way down to the kitchen, at least it’s worth it. Matthew is in there frosting a chocolate cake. Two more frosted cakes—a vanilla and a strawberry—sit on the countertop behind him.
“Please tell me I can have an entire one of those for myself.” I lean against the door frame of the magazine-worthy kitchen, full of marble and with a fridge as wide as a car. I try not to look as weak as I feel, but I doubt I succeed.
Matthew’s jaw drops at the sight of me, and an icing bag falls from his hand. It splats onto the counter as he hurries over and grabs my arm, tossing it over his shoulder. “Murky! I’m so glad you’re awake!”
Even though the guy is old enough to have a cane or some shit, he’s surprisingly strong. He takes on most of my weight as he drags me forward to a stool at the countertop and helps me fall into it.
Then he gives me a wry grin. “I’d say a cake’s a fair trade for coming back from the dead, wouldn’t you?”
“It definitely feels like coming back from the dead.” I pull the chocolate cake toward me, licking my lips. Matthew hands me a fork and I try to grin, but it hurts too much. Instead, I say, “I guess you don’t wanna see me use my fingers to shovel this cake into my mouth?”
His expression of disgust is picture-perfect.
“Your loss,” I joke with a shrug that I immediately regret. It sends pain shooting everywhere. “Shit,” I cringe as red spots flicker in my vision.
Matthew walks to a cabinet and grabs some Tylenol, sliding the whole container across the counter toward me.
A gravelly voice sounds behind me. “I think I’m gonna need a little something stronger than that. Got any Jack?”
I try to turn my head but can’t. I end up turning my entire body to see Pluto standing behind me. Normally, he’s what Elena calls an Orlando Bloom knockoff. Right now? He looks about as good as I feel. Which is not good. He was right beside me for the blast, so he’s probably just as lucky to be here as I am.
“No liquor,” Matthew responds dryly.
The alpha lifts a hand and flips Matthew off before hissing through his teeth. Then his brown eyes land on me. “Fuck. Tell me every inch of you hurts and I’m not a fucking pussy.”
I’m a little surprised that he’s talking to me like a human being. Most alpha pricks, including him, typically are arrogant asses to betas. Maybe the blast lobotomized him. “Every inch of me hurts,” I confirm.
“Including all three inches of dick?”
There it is. Alpha asshole intact. Too bad.
But then he grins at me. Like we’re friends or something.
My eyebrows rise in surprise and I’m not sure if this alpha intends for me to joke back with him. Normally, I’d shut my mouth and drop my eyes. Internally, my wolf hunches his shoulders and tries to make his body smaller. But fuck it. I almost died. I doubt he could lift his arm enough to even take a swing at me. “Guess I’m in a little bit more pain than you then because my dick is way longer than your three inches.”
Pluto looks impressed and Matthew bursts into laughter as he slides an entire strawberry cake and a fork in Pluto’s direction. “If you two are already making dick jokes, then I’m going to go tell Alpha Maddox he doesn’t need to worry anymore.”
Glasses full of milk appear before each one of us and I take a grateful gulp.
“Don’t tell Black that. I want to milk this near-death experience for all it’s worth. Think I could get a car out of him?” Pluto wags his eyebrows twice playfully. It makes me see the alpha I’ve always considered a douche in a new light.
“Perhaps not a car. A tropical vacation though …” Matthew contributes snarkily as he opens the fridge and starts pulling out pre-sliced deli meat.
My mouth instantly waters and I set my fork down. “Can I trade out some of this cake for that?”
