“Do you see a mate up here?” I make a show of looking around. “One day I hope to stand up here and present you to the one Fate chose for me.” My wolf scores my insides with savage claws. I’m dancing around the question like a fucking coward. I can never publicly claim a human mate, not without relinquishing my role. There’s no chance the pack would accept her. It’s not even safe to hint at her while the Adalwulfs are a threat to us. And they’ll always be a threat as long as Odin or Aiden live and breathe. “Today is not that day.”
“So you’ll be going to the Mating Games in a few days?” someone shouts from the back of the room. There are murmurs and rustling as wolves turn to see who shouted out of turn.
I recognize that voice. It’s Billy, near the exits. The crowd parts to let him through. I haven’t seen him for a while-my wolf still wants to kill him for thinking Madi was a traitor. He stares up at the stage with haunted eyes.
Is he challenging my dominance? Or is he teeing up questions for me to help me save face?
Either way, I have to answer him.
Fuck. I grit my teeth.
“Yes. Now that we’ve uncovered the Adalwulf plot and secured our dominant position in business, mating is my top priority.” My wolf is restless, hating the way I’m doing this. He thinks I’m betraying Madi. But I’m just trying to keep her-and everyone I love-safe. “As soon as I wrap up a few things here, I’ll fly to the Swedish Pack Games along with my top wolves. We’ll see if there are any hearts that Mr. Jordan has yet to break.” Jake takes the jibe with a grin and a shrug.
“Any other questions?”
“Yes.” A burly wolf in the middle of the tenth row stands up. “I challenge you for Alpha.”
The venue explodes. There are shouts of anger. Of encouragement. I look to Eagle. He’s nodding slightly.
The challenger clambers past other wolves in his row, headed toward me.
“That wasn’t a question,” I chide. “But I accept your challenge.” I knew I wouldn’t get out of here without a fight.
Down on the floor, Nickel and Eagle wave wolves back to create a space for us to face off. I step off the podium, shrug off my suit jacket, and hand it to Vance. Even without the microphone, my voice carries to the back of the room. “Let’s do this.”
Madi
I pace Brick’s luxury high-rise. It’s been over an hour since he left, but I’m still trembling. Whether it’s from anger or fear, I can’t be sure.
I’m essentially a prisoner right now. A mistress locked in a tower.
Brick’s dirty little secret.
It makes me want to puke.
I’ve started to call Aubrey three times and then stopped. What can I tell her that would make sense? My Big Bad Boss, who for two short days I considered my boyfriend, thinks I’m in danger and is keeping me under lock and key?
That wouldn’t make sense without the part I can’t tell anyone-that the billionaire boss is also a werewolf. Ha-there are Werewolves of Wall Street. Wish I could share that joke with Aubrey.
For the first time in my life, a sense of helplessness creeps in. I’ve always been driven. I’ve relied on my brains to get me out of any and every dilemma. To engineer my way into my desired positions and perform at top level.
But, as Brick said-this isn’t my world.
I don’t even know where to start when there are two burly wolves outside the door keeping me prisoner. It would be easier if I weren’t in love. If I hadn’t tasted the sweetness of being loved and doted on by Brick. Watching my powerful, hot boss-hole melt into someone real, someone who shows me his vulnerabilities and promises me forever. It would be easier if I didn’t care about protecting him and what’s important to him.
But all of those things are true.
I’ve been avoiding that uncomfortable truth for a few months, but after nearly losing Brick to moon madness, I can’t deny what he means to me. And now that he’s marked me, he’s admitted what I mean to him.
Except no. He hasn’t. Or at least he’s admitted it to me, but he doesn’t want his pack to know.
Just like my asshole sperm donor refused to acknowledge me or stay with my mom after she got pregnant because she didn’t fit into the high society circle of the Harrington’s.
I hate him for that.
A knock sounds at the door, startling me out of my thoughts. No matter-my brain wasn’t on a path to solving anything today.
I draw in a measured breath and exhale.
What could this be? One of the henchmen asking to use the bathroom? I can’t imagine they’d let anyone through. As I approach the door, I hear the lock click open.
“Ms. Evans?” A deep voice speaks on the other side. “Mr. Blackthroat sent this visitor.”
For one brief moment, my heart leaps, thinking it will be Aubrey or my mom. I’ve only been locked up for a few hours, but I already feel so cut-off and isolated. It’s like I’ve been gone for an eternity instead of a couple of days.
But when I pull the door open, I find a gorgeous, middle-aged woman the size of a twig, dressed like she’s on a Paris runway. Beside her are three racks of clothing.
“Hello, Ms. Evans. I’m Elise Wang, your personal stylist from Zoe Couture.” She’s already rolling one of the racks through the door. The henchmen help her, rolling the other two in behind it then exiting. “Mr. Blackthroat sent me over to get started on your wardrobe.” She flicks a glance over my figure and begins to pull items from the racks.
I blink. “My wardrobe?” My stomach bunches up. Is this part of Blackthroat’s makeover to make me more acceptable to his social strata? “I don’t need a wardrobe.”
Screw him. If I have to stay here as his prisoner, he can look at me in the same yoga pants and sweater I’ve been wearing since Ruby picked me up in the limo to save Brick two days ago. If he wants to see me in something cuter, he can let me go home.
Except…my chest aches when I remember that we will not be returning to that routine of me dressing to kill and coming into work to torture him. I’m still fired from Moon Co. He’s not my Big Bad Boss anymore.
He’s not even my boyfriend. He’s something else. Something I don’t understand since I’m not one of them.
“Today is just an introduction-an opportunity for me to get to know your style and preferences.” Elise ignores my protest. “Then I’ll take your measurements and put together a complete wardrobe over a series of months or even the year as we move through each season.”
Elise hands me a pair of champagne pink and black striped wide leg pants. “These would look amazing on you. I think they might be your size. Try them with this.” She hands me a black knit top that’s strapless, except it has detached sleeves.
I’m not a clothes horse. Not by any means. But the clothes she thrust in my hands are exquisite. The knit top must be cashmere-it feels so soft-and the pants are clearly expensive designer-made, with a high-waisted cut that will make me look tall and leggy.
Okay, fine. Brick wants to buy me designer clothes? We’ll see his reaction when I take one of everything.
I take the things back into the bedroom and try them on.
Elise taps on the door a moment later.
“Come on in.” I survey myself in the mirror. The wound on my shoulder where Brick bit me stands out against my pale skin. Will it go away? My breath shudders in the memory of it. How we almost lost him. The importance of this mark to him.
To me, it now looks like a brand. I belong to Brick Blackthroat now. I’m his to lock up in his penthouse and throw away the key.
“Oh yes. I knew you were going to rock that. It’s a great look for you.” She has a heap of gorgeous items draped over her arm. She lays them on the bed. “What size shoe are you? That outfit would look great with black stiletto boots. I brought a few pair.”
“Size seven.” I turn and look at the clothing. It’s all high fashion stuff-probably close to a hundred thousand dollars worth just right there on my bed. If Brick thinks dropping six figures on my wardrobe will change anything about this fucked up situation, he’s wrong.
But I might as well enjoy the experience.
Part of me is still making an exit plan. But that’s an old mental habit from when he was my boss. When I was trying to protect my heart.
Now it’s too late. My heart belongs to him, and he’s something…different to me.
But what he is-what we are-isn’t clear. And I really don’t like murky, undefined situations.
I spend the next hour trying on clothes, letting Elise style me and then telling her which outfits I like best.
She leaves me with every single item of clothing on her racks that fits me, along with staples of silk panties, bras, pajamas, loungewear, athleisure wear, and casuals, and promises to return tomorrow with the things that she didn’t have in my size and additional items she wants to shop for now that she knows my taste.
When she leaves, I feel even more hollow than before she came. I walk to the giant wall of windows overlooking Central Park and look down.
The problem is not just the literal prison I’m in. I could certainly strategize my way out of this building.
The problem is one of my own making. One that wants to somehow keep Brick. To make something work with him. To have the bliss of the last two days without giving up my entire life and identity for it.
A key turns in the lock. I round on Brick, prepared to give him a piece of my mind, but I stop short with a gasp.
My boss is soaked in blood. His crisp white button-down shirt is stained at the side with it, and there are dark red streaks on his neck at the open throat.
Even more frightening-there’s an aggressive, frantic edge to him. His hair is tousled, and his eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen, filling the room with an amber light.
“
Madi.” He walks straight toward me. His expression is dark and determined.
“Brick! What happened?”
Before I know it’s coming, he snatches me up against him and presses his face to my neck. One deep inhale, and his body relaxes by a few degrees. “That’s better.” Another inhale. A few more degrees. “Thank you,” he murmurs against my skin.
“For what?” I try to push away, so I can figure out how he is injured, but he holds me tight.
“For you. For being here, safe.”
Some of my anger falls away.
I don’t know why I’m suddenly trembling all over, my knees weak, my heart pounding.
“I need you, Madi.”
His mouth opens, and he’s suddenly kissing along my neck, licking the place where he marked me to speed the healing.
I don’t mean to respond. I want to hold out. To have a long conversation. To work things out with him.
But instead, I find myself with my legs wrapped around his waist, being carried into the bathroom. My body responds to this man without my brain even participating.
I’m already halfway to an orgasm from just our contact. From his dominating touch. His tongue in my ear. From the desperation with which he seems to need me.
Just like when he would come into the office seemingly desperate to get inside me, the few hours apart have made him even more hungry for me. He shifts me to one arm to turn on the shower, and then we’re both in the giant walk-in shower, tearing each other’s clothes off, desperate to get skin-to-skin.
Brick’s blood makes the water at our feet run red. I rip open his button-down and peel back his soaked undershirt. Beneath it is a long gash in his side. It’s horrifying in size and shape, like a chunk was ripped out. But it also seems to be well on its way to healing. Like it’s several weeks old, rather than a few hours.
“Brick…tell me what happened.”
“Someone challenged me for Alpha.” He pins my body up against the tile wall with a soft thud.
I gasp.
“They lost.” He cups one breast as he sucks the nipple of the other. I feel the answering tug between my legs, a needy clenching on air.
“They challenged you because of me?” I croak, my fingers threading through his wet hair.
I am so far out of my depth. Brick was right. I’m not part of his world. I don’t understand it.
–
Yet.
But I will. I will learn everything I can about this wolf world, so I can find my way out of this.
“No. Aiden leaked a video of me shifting in the boardroom. Rumors were out that I went moon mad.” Brick lifts me higher on the wall until I’m dangling four feet above the ground, my pussy eye-level with his mouth. And then he eats me like a starving man. Parting my lips with his nose, he delves his tongue deep into my channel. Sucks and licks every centimeter until he lands on my clit. There, he takes his time with a slow roll of his tongue.
I try to concentrate on what he told me, but it’s a losing battle. Brick has me mindless with need. I cry out, my pelvis jerking against his face. I loop my legs over his shoulders.
Another beautiful circle around my clit.
I would forgive this man anything right now.
Noises come from my throat and bounce off the tile walls. Guttural sounds. Needy sounds. Brick gets my clit between his lips and sucks. My legs kick out in desperation, but he edges me, slowing down, easing away, lifting me off his shoulders.
“I need to be inside you, Madi.” His hands stroke all over my wet skin, like he’s worshiping my form. My every curve.
“I need…”
“What do you need, Madison?” He turns me to face the shower wall and guides my hands to flatten against the tile. “Do you need this?” He nudges my feet apart. His hands stroke up and down my sides, fingertips lingering over my nipples, pinching lightly. He slides his fingers between my legs from the front as he kneads one ass-cheek from behind.
“Y-yes,” I breathe.
“You need my cock inside you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Because that’s where I need to be.” He slides the head of his cock between my legs then nudges inside. After making love for two days straight, my body is primed for him. Sore, but ready for more. Very quickly getting used to his size and the frequency of sex.
I push my hips back to take him deeper.
He grips my waist, holding me still as he slowly pumps in and out. The angle isn’t satisfying enough for me. I want more. I reach between my legs to touch his dick where it slides in and out of me.
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