Page 4 of The Reaper's Vow
“What kind of masks?” I hear myself asking.
Britney's grin widens. “Gorgeous ones. Leather, lace, feathers—whatever matches your outfit. The club provides them.” She bounces on her toes. “Oh, this is going to be so good for you. I can feel it.”
The wolf inside me stretches, intrigued despite my reservations. A place where everyone hides their identity. It appeals to the predator in me more than I want to admit.
“I've never been to a place like that,” I say slowly.
“Even better! First-timer's luck.” She's already heading toward the door. “I'll grab the dress and shoes. We'll start getting ready around eight—the club doesn't really get going until after ten anyway.”
“Britney, wait?—”
But she's already gone, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft click. I stare at the empty space where she stood, wondering what I just agreed to.
Damien
The night whispers death, and I am its messenger. My knuckles whiten against the steering wheel as I navigate the winding road through the redwoods.
“You know, Dom, if you grip that wheel any tighter, you'll snap it in half,” Elias says from the passenger seat. “Lighten up. It's just another job.”
I grunt in response. The heir to the Bellandi empire shouldn't be here. His father would skin me alive if he knew I let his precious son accompany me on a hit. But Elias has a way of wearing people down, even me. The moment his father called me into his office and to issue orders, I knew that I’d findElias waiting in my car. Fucker never misses a chance to pop by Crimson Howl to get a taste. It’s not as if he doesn’t have females falling at his feet. Eligible heir status tends to draw them in. Not that I would know about that even though I am an heir myself. The females always seem to give me a wide berth. Maybe it is the fact my father loaned me out to the Bellandi family, or, according to Elias, my not so cheery disposition. Either way, I haven’t gotten my dick wet in months while the jackass next to me can barely shove a she-wolf out his bedroom door before the next one is coming in. Fucking prick.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Elias grins, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief behind the half-mask he's already donned. “What, and miss all the fun?”
Fun. Of course he sees this as fun. He may very well be the only heir who has never gotten his claws bloody. Alpha Anselm, his father, likes to out source that out to his enforcers. Mostly me. Growth and learning opportunities, he likes to call them, but it’s really a punishment from my father. My penance for allowing my sister, Rhea, to get kidnapped by one of my his rivals. Despite getting her back when his own enforcers failed, it was my job to protect her.
“You know what will happen to me if you lose so much as a single hair?”
“My father will gut you and hang you for all to see like a prized buck?”
“Something like that.” I downshift as we approach the turnoff that leads deeper into my current alpha’s territory. “Your father doesn't make idle threats.”
“Neither does yours, from what I hear.” Elias leans back in his seat, studying me with that calculating look he gets sometimes. The one that reminds me he's not just some spoiled prince playing dress-up. “Tell me, Dom—when's the last timeyou talked to your father? Not through intermediaries. Not through my father. Actually talked.”
My jaw clenches.
“That's what I thought.” He pulls out his phone, scrolling through messages. “You know, there's a rumor going around that?—”
“I don't give a shit about rumors.”
“This one you might.” His voice drops, losing that playful edge. “Word is your sister has been asking questions about why her big brother disappeared right after saving her ass.”
My foot eases off the accelerator without my permission. Rhea. I haven't spoken to her in eight months. Haven't been allowed to, more like. Part of my punishment—complete severance from pack ties.
“Bullshit.”
“Is it?” Elias pockets his phone and turns to face me fully. “Maybe she's finally figured out that Daddy dearest threw you under the bus to save his precious reputation.”
He isn’t wrong, but I will never admit that out loud, even amongst a wolf I consider a friend.
“Drop it, Elias.” The words come out sharper than intended, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin. The beast doesn't like being cornered, and right now that's exactly what this conversation feels like.
“Fine.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, but I catch the satisfied smirk on his face. The bastard is under my skin, and he knows it. “But when this whole enforcer gig gets old, you've got options. My father respects you more than half his own blood.”
I don't respond because there's nothing to say. Options. Like I have any real choice in the matter.
Finally, Crimson Howl comes into view. “Speaking of options,” Elias continues, seemingly oblivious to my darkeningmood, “there's this new girl at the club. Redhead. Curves that could make a saint sin. She's been asking about you.”
