Page 15 of Damaged Princess

Anastasia snorts. I unlock it with the clicker and open the door for her. Ana climbs inside.

I give myself a pep-talk. No more dancing the line of accidentally upsetting her. Look after her, get her back safely, and tell Vik enough is enough. Whether the job is done or not, it's time for him to come home.

The lodge employs the majority of the people in our tiny town. There are a few restaurants and businesses, but this far up into the mountains everyone tends to know everyone. I'm immediately on edge when I see who Anastasia planned to meet.

Chance Butler isn't a bad guy, but he's twenty-three or twenty-four and has that dude-bro vibe of "I'll stick my dick in anything that moves".

I don't love crowded places. The bar is packed full of tourists and lodge employees trying to blow off steam after a long week.

Anastasia doesn't make a move to head for Chance. She meanders up to the bar, and I have no idea what to do. When one of the guys waiting grabs a huge handful of Ana's ass, I stop standing by the door like a fool and head for them.

I dislike that she doesn't slap his hand away. I'm pretty sure she just managed to get that guy to buy her a drink. I'm three feet away when it becomes clear Anastasia is the shark in this situation. She pats his arm, removes his hand from her ass, and grabs the pitcher of beer the bartender holds out.

My jaw hangs open as she saunters my way without ever being carded. She's twenty-two. No one should be handing her alcohol without checking her ID.

I have a very Viktor-like urge to spank her ass.

Not all men will call it a loss and simply move on.

I grumble something to that effect to Anastasia, who marches toward Chance and the dude-bro collective.

"I had that under complete control," Ana says, laughing. "Come on, let's have fun. I haven't been out in ages."

She just put herself in a dangerous situation for what, a few free drinks? All she has to do is ask and I'll buy her whatever she needs.

I sigh. This is the last place I want to be to relax after a stressful week. I feel like Wolfe as I rage-text Vik. I heard all about last night.

Vik hasn't answered me in two days, and I'd be minorly concerned for his safety if I didn't know he's a hard son of a bitch to kill.

I text Wolfe a picture of Ana perched on Chance's knee at the high-top table. Anastasia is definitely showing her ass tonight, and I don't just mean in the tiny dress she decided was appropriate attire for a bar full of alphas looking to blow off steam after a week of dealing with tourists.

I vaguely consider texting Murphy. One sentence from him would put Anastasia off-limits again. The only thing that holds me back is my fear that it would extend to my pack, too.

I've never considered myself a violent person. Sure, I served my time in the military the same as most alphas I grew up with, but in general I choose communication over violence any day of the week.

That's why it's so off-putting when I suddenly have the urge to remove Chance's hands from his body. He can have them back. I'm sure a good surgeon could reattach them under theproper circumstances. As long as they never touch Ana again, he can even keep them.

I open the door to the nest, nodding for Anastasia to check it out. She slides by me and I catch her natural scent in full force. It's incredibly sweet. Her heat is coming up in the very near future.

I flip on the light as Anastasia takes in the room. The center of the nest has a raised platform with three steps leading up to it. The wall edges have thick dark wooden beams that attach to the ceiling. There's a small area of about three feet of carpeting around the nest mattress. The back edge is framed with giant cushions and has a row of bed pillows in front of it.

Anastasia glances at me over her shoulder. She looks uncertain. I grab her hand, leading her into the room.

"This is the medium style of nest," I tell her, guiding her over to the small bathroom. "There's no shower in these, but it's nice that you don't have to leave the nest to use the bathroom."

Anastasia peeks her head inside. "Yeah, that is handy. This room is big, though. Don't omegas generally prefer to have a more confined space?"

I tilt my head, studying her carefully. She sounds unsure. Every omega is different, but she should feel confident enough to ask for what she needs. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to deduce her life hasn't been as easy and glamorous as one might expect from the way she carries herself.

"It's open now, but you can use the curtains to help it feel more secure." I head over to the back corner and grab the wand, pulling it until the entire back wall is blocked off by the heavy light-blocking panel. I grab the next wand and eventually we make it all the way around. "The runner for the curtains overlaps in the front. Or you can leave it partially open if you want a little light. Want to climb in and check it out?"

"Will you come in with me?" she asks. Her voice is so unsure it makes it very hard not to wrap her in my arms and squeeze her tight.

My mom always says there isn't much in the world a good hug can't fix.

I settle for wrapping an arm around her shoulder and guiding her up the stairs. There's a huge pile of blankets in the back left corner in addition to the fluffy comforter that covers the bed.

If I was Wolfe, I'd pick her up and toss her down. He could make her laugh. Vik would command the situation and intuitively know what she needs.

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