Unchained

Chapter Seven

Unedited.

Joseph Morgan as Basile.

Weeks had passed, Olympe grew to trust Basile more than ever and pushed her wolf's plotting mind away so she could think for herself.

Maybe I should actually talk to Basile. Olympe thought to herself. Yes, I'm going to. Nodding her head, the female glided out of the forest, grabbing the blanket she slept with every night. Before she broke the tree line, she stumbled onto her human legs and wrapped the blanket around her narrow shoulders.

Taking hesitate steps, Olympe slowly looked out towards the packhouse, which she learned was actually Basile's personal house that only housed him and his two pits, Jacques and Juste.

"Peu gris?" She turned her platinum haired self to look up at Basile, his height dwarfing her. She gave gave him a sheepish chuff.

"What?" Was all she said, human words sounded foreign on her tongue since she had spent a month in wolf form.

"Quelle beauté, beaucoup de checeux ainsi." Basile's shoulder shook with silent laughter, Olympe frowned at him, the French-Canadian's eyes were alight with wonder. "Let's get you inside, you must be cold, peu gris." Basile beckoned her with his slender hand, holding open the thick, wooden door for her.

"What a gentleman," she snorted and walked in, ignoring his laughter. Her eyes widen at the sight before her.

It was all modernized. Sleek countertops that consisted of dark granite, dark cupboards above them. Stainless steel appliances, white tiles were warm beneath her small feet. She pulled out a dark, cushioned stool to sit on.

The heavy clicking of the twins echoed throughout the house, the thickly muscled pits looked up at her, their shiny silver chains both held dog tags, cropped ears twitched at the smallest sounds. Juste's dark blue coat rippled with each movement while Jacques hung back in the doorframe, his white flea bitten coat tried to blend in with the tiles.

"There heated tiles, if you were wondering." Basile moved swiftly across the floor and around the bar.

"I wasn't." She replied shortly.

"Don't be a petit malin, it's rude."

"So is speaking in a different language when the recipient doesn't understand it."

"Smart ass." He cocked a thick eyebrow, his infamous faint smile lingered on his lips. Olympe narrowed her cold eyes at him, causing him to wince at her sudden change in behavior. He was used to there being a glint of amusement, or what some could dub as joy, in her pretty eyes.

Before she could come back with a snarky reply, a shrill sound pierced the air. She glared at the cellphone that sat near the fridge. Her sensitive hearing wasn't used to cellphones and the static that comes with it, that only werewolves seemed to hear.

"Just a moment, peu gris." Basile swiped the sleek iPhone 6s up and slid the screen open, answering the call. "Alpha Basile speaking." His eyes flashed up towards hers, he held up a slender, ringed pointer finger and walked out.

Not bothering to listen in his conversation, Olympe turned towards the heavy breathing pits below her. Their dark eyes peered up at her, daring her to challenge them in human form. Glaring at the dogs, she released a deep, authoritative growl that had the dogs cowering back into a different room. Olympe came to the conclusion that she liked them better when she was in wolf form.

"Alright, peu gris, I got some news." Olympe looked up at a flustered Basile. She cocked a brow in questioning. "There's an alpha coming from the States to check my pack for his mate, every femme has to be there. While you're technically not in the pack, I suggest if you don't want to be seen, go head out in the woods tonight, that's when he should be arriving." Clapping his hands together, which caused Olympe to jump at the sudden sound, Basile smirked. "Let's get some meat on them bones, yeah?"