Sacrificed Soul

Chapter Twenty-One

Junior and Lenora fill the forty five minute drive back into town with inane conversation that I don't follow. They let me ignore them, especially in the face of what I've told them. I can't find it within myself to feel remorseful about it though. I am angry, and the pent up aggression fills my chest and steels my spine the closer we get to town and the 'party' that awaits us.

I hate that I'm forced to endure this, but that the alphas would lay down the law and have all unmated wolves attend? It's preposterous, and while I know that nothing can force me into either of my forms, the fact that my mate will most likely be presented along with the rest of us grinds at me. I want to tear into the building in my full, true glory. I want to preen and flaunt myself in front of a man who fears me and a wolf who is powerful enough to ignore my barked demands.

I don't want anyone to be near him if I can't be, and that piece of selfish reasoning is what helps me find my center.

Being stuffed in Lenora's fancy car though, I can smell the differences between her and I. There's a hard, wild edge to me that's missing from her while her wolf is not peering through her eyes, and even then my under notes are sharp and smoking with threat. Everything about me is a warning covered in the sweetness of an oncoming heat that I can't avoid.

My siblings fall silent as we group together outside of the car, Lenora once again claiming my arm while Junior holds guard behind us. It doesn't make me feel better, and if anything, pisses me off more. Of any wolf here, I am the strongest and most able to protect. I feel a constant pressure that weighs hard on my back to perform under a false pretense of submissivness, one that I have not been able to avoid if I don't want the pack to fall into upheaval.

It has damned me into a cycle of abuse by dominant males who have not been put into place. The fact that they have had to be curtailed by my employers should say enough about their actions. I want to punish them, make them bleed and prove myself top fucking dog around here, but the Leaders and Thompson's threat hangs around me like a dark cloud.

I take one sniff of the hall as we step through, and like a replay of my first night here, I balk, halting at the entrance where the stale air is filled with need and want and sex.

I'm not the only one who's nose is wrinkled. Most of the she wolves have found themselves surrounded by males far too interested in them. Dr. Kessler is right. This is a fucking farce.

"There's liquor in the back," Lenora says as she drags me forward, only the tightness of her hand on my arms giving away her own irritation.

"Right, because alcohol and wolves hell bent on getting laid is always a good idea," Junior says as he parts ways with us, telling Lenora, "They've got me for ten minutes. Don't bother looking for me after that."

I watch his back as he disappears into the crowd. I have a few distinct feelings that I disect as they pop up. A flagging anger that he would abondon us to the males that have turned their gazes on two lone females, leering and scenting us with their noses high in the air. A dawn of understanding that he doesn't want to see them wagging their tongues at his sisters and that, for the most part, we can protect ourselves. Anger that once again fuels me, only this time for myself. I should be able to protect those around me from this, put these men turned monsters into their place, and yet I find that I'm both gagged and hobbled.

"Take a breath, you look constipated," Lenora hisses as we approach a table lined with various drinks, most of them alcoholic.

I sneer at her, a facial expression I've only experienced towards myself, "I already did and I very much regret it."

"Ten minutes, just like Junior. I promise."

I really, really hate that fucking P-word.

Everything about this night has me on a cliff, a train with no brakes that is laced with dynamite. If it's not my expression of discontent that wards off would be admirers, then it's my scent that not only declares me available, but also dangerous. One of them, a wolf I recognize from the clinic just yesterday who harrassed Fran about meeting me, dares to walk towards us. He swaggers, and even if his hand carries his drink steadily, I know the sheen of drunkard when I see it.