Page 24 of Scarred Savages
I woke up in someone’s arms and instinctively hit him… hard. Yet the unsettling truth is that, for a brief moment, cocooned in warmth, I felt safe, safer than I have in years.
Rubbing my eyes, I attempt to erase the memory and the heat from my cheeks. This is what I’m here for, right? To “service” these males.
A groan escapes me.
How is this my life?
Conrad slips back into my thoughts, his handsome face twisting when he saw my scars. The rejection still burns. Even though I vowed to bury it, it lingers. My wolf whimpers inside me, a soft, pitiful sound that echoes through my chest. I mentally stroke her fur, whispering that we’re better off without him.
If he hadn’t rejected me, I wouldn’t be here now, surrounded by these savage males in this remote wilderness. I’d be planning a mating ceremony, instead, I’m preparing to face a pack of alphas who expect me to satisfy their “urges.”
A bitter laugh escapes my lips.
Fate has a sick sense of humor, matching me with someone like him. Maybe it’s better this way. Conrad may have been my scent match, but he wasn’t what I needed.
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. That was the past. Conrad doesn’t deserve space in my head anymore. I need to focus on the present moment and figure out how to navigate this new reality.
I throw on some clothes: yoga pants, a tee, and a hoodie. The Institute demands that females maintain a “pleasingappearance” at all times, but my small act of rebellion is showing up as I am, take it or leave it.
I open the door and tiptoe downstairs, my heart pounding with each step. The rich aroma of coffee and something savory wafts through the air, making my stomach grumble despite the nerves twisting inside me.
As I step into the kitchen, the morning conversation suddenly stops. Four pairs of eyes lock onto me with varying degrees of interest, from Axel’s wolfish grin to Damien’s barely concealed contempt.
My wolf stirs curiously.
Alpha Hudson mans the stove, flipping pancakes with the same intense focus he probably applies to everything.
A younger male sets the table. He’s lean, about my age, and slightly taller, maybe 5’10”. His auburn hair is tousled from sleep, and freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, giving him an almost boyish appearance that contrasts with the others.
Damien sits at the table, nursing a mug of coffee and ignoring my entrance. Ethan is nowhere to be seen while Axel lounges against the counter.
“Morning, wildcat. Sleep well?” He says, a wicked grin plays on his lips as his eyes meet mine, and he twirls a hatchet in his hand.
I hadn’t noticed last night, but a deep scar traces the side of his face. There’s also a slight bruise forming along his nose where my fist connected, and I can’t help but feel the flicker of satisfaction at the sight.
I shrug, focusing on pouring a cup of coffee. “Like a baby. Screaming. Thrashing. Elbowing the asshole in my bed. A+ experience.”
Axel throws his head back and laughs, a deep, resonant sound.
“Told you,” he says to the others, still chuckling. “Wildcat’s got claws.”
“And aim,” I add pointedly, nodding at his bruised nose.
This sets him off again, and to my surprise, I find the corner of my mouth twitching upward. His reaction is disarming: no anger or wounded male pride.
“Leave her be, Axel,” Alpha Hudson says.
Axel raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just being friendly.”
The younger male approaches me with a shy smile. “Hi, I’m Oliver. Oliver Stone. Everyone calls me Oli. It’s nice to meet you.” His nose twitches slightly as he speaks.
Guess he caught a whiff of my scent.
“Nice to meet you, too. I’m Luna.”
“I know,” he says, then immediately looks mortified. “I mean, we all know. Not in a creepy way or anything. Just that Hudson told us you were coming and—” He stops, his nose twitching rapidly. “Sorry. I talk too much when I’m nervous.”
Ethan walks in, stretches, and pulls out a chair for me. I sit down, wrapping my hands around the warm mug.
