The sudden attention I was getting was unfamiliar. I'm comfortable with burning glares, harsh whispers and even pointed fingers but when people start smiling at me...no sir, that's where I draw the line.
If one more person comes up to me to make conversation I'm going to move out of the pack house for good. I'd rather sleep in the woods.
I've lived my whole life parading around in front of people and never once did I care what they thought. I always knew what they thought, I just never cared. But now—now that they are making such a visible effort to be nice to me—it makes my skin crawl. Every time I see a smiling face thanking me, in my mind I see them hating me again once the truth comes out. I try to spend as much time as possible outside to avoid most people.
"Come on, Damon," I whine for probably the billionth time.
"No, Lenora, you know it's not safe." Damon doesn't even bother to turn from his hunched position over the paperwork on his desk.
Being alpha looks really boring.
"What do you mean 'not safe'? There haven't been rouge sightings in weeks! We scared them off—well, actually, I scared them off..." I trail off waiting for Damon to laugh and tell me to shut up but he doesn't. "Hey, is everything okay?"
"Fine," I immediately freeze. I know that tone of voice. Tense with a side of exhausted. There's only one cure for that. Or well, only one that I know how to administer.
I place my hands on Damon's shoulders and squeeze. I then slide them down his back slowly and feel the hard muscle contract and loosen under my touch.
"You don't have to tell me what's wrong. All you have to do is close your eyes and come with me," I lean down and whisper soothingly in Damon's right ear.
"I swear to God, if this is a trick—"
"No trick—cross my heart—I just want to help in the only way I know how." My words convince Damon to spin around and rise to his feet, "eyes," I remind him and he complies.
I take his large rough hands in mine and lead him from his stuffy office. I guide him towards the hallway and up the stairs. I pause before my door when Damon tugs back.
"My room," he grunts with no other response.
"Hey, I thought you were keeping your eyes closed," I huff and Damon smirks.
"You would have led me right into a wall," he counters and I laugh.
"Yeah and it would have been hilarious." I don't bother to pick up Damon's hands but instead take off running down the hall.
Damon hears the sound of my soft feet and then chases after me. My hand touches his doorknob first but he scoops me up high in his arms with all the momentum he built up while running. I feel my feet dangle in the air and my stomach whirls in the quick change of direction but I still feel comforted in Damon's arms.
He pulls us both into his room and closes the door with the heel of his foot. Damon walks me over to his bed and plops me down so I bounce on his mattress. When I look up, my eyes are met with dark brown ones that look black in the shadows of his room created by the heavy blinds.
"Give me your hands," he instructs and I oblige. Though he's done this a few times now it still scares me. But I don't tell him that.
He grabs my wrists and ties them together in front of me. I can't stop my heart from pounding in my chest, not from anticipation but from fear that my hands are restricted. I swallow this fear and put in my bravest face that I hope looks appealing.
Apparently it does because Damon doesn't waste time undressing the both of us. I close my eyes to settle my nerves and help the time pass. It's takes a lot of concentration to swallow the rising panic feeling of being trapped again. But I have a duty to perform for the man I love.
Only after Damon unties my wrists I feel like I can take a deep breath of air. It's hard to cover up my relief and Damon raises a questioning eyebrow at me.
"I'm fine," I assure him. "I want you to be happy."
He smiles and leans in to kiss my lips softly, "I am happy."
He then rises from the bed and dresses in a new shirt and shorts. I remain in the warm bed and wrap the sheets around myself.
"Do you want something to eat?" He asks while he pulls on his clothes. I watch the muscles in his smooth back and I wish I could run my hands along the soft surface.
"No, I'm just going to sleep for a bit," I mumble tiredly and Damon chuckles and leaves me in his room. I smile in content as I succeeded in cheering him up.
I drift off into a peaceful sleep with a smile on my face. When I wake, my stomach grumbles in protest to my lack of calories and I begrudgingly leave the comforts of Damon's large bed. I blindly find my denim shorts and one of Damon's clean shirts before shuffling out the door.
As hungry as I am, I chose to go to my room first to get dressed before I eat. I slip on a new pair of shorts and a cropped shirt. I shove my feet into a pair of flip flops that were lying on my floor and throw my hair into a lose ponytail at the top of my head.
I hesitate to leave my room without putting some makeup on but I figure that it's late in the afternoon so I probably won't run into anybody. However, with my luck, there will be the whole pack waiting at the bottom of the stairs to clap for me as I descend the steps.
Makes me want to puke.
The groaning protest of my stomach pulls me away from my vanity and towards the kitchen. My flip flops slap against the backs of my heels as I practically skip down the steps. I turn the corner but what I see before me stops me dead in my tracks.
It's a girl.
Her scent is not of my pack and I've never seen her before. She is short but petite with long dark curly hair and large hazel eyes that flicker around the kitchen nervously. A plate of pancakes sits in front of her.
"Who the hell are you?" I growl under my breath and I am immediately on the defense.
"Eva," her gaze snaps to mine but quickly shrivels in fear when she notices my glare.
Good, I mentally smirk but remain fierce on the outside.
"What are you doing here?" I ball my hands into fists and take a step forward.
"Damon said I could wait here while he went to talk to his father," she rushes out and leans farther back in her chair to get away from me—even if it's only a few more inches.
Damon said?
I look her up and down. She's wearing the same t–shirt I saw Damon put on right before he left his room earlier. My mind struggles to comprehend what my eyes are seeing before me.
"And why would he tell you that?" I furrow my eyebrows in a frown. I can't piece everything together no matter how hard I try.
Damon and I had sex, then he left, I woke up and now a girl is in the kitchen. She looks like a rogue with the way her hair hasn't been brushed in weeks and dirt is buried under her finger nails. Her unfamiliar scent is not from any pack I've ever encountered around here but she looks too timid to be a threat.
My heart almost begins to sympathize for her until she says the one thing I don't expect to hear—the one thing that has the power to kill me in the most painful way imaginable.
"Because I'm his mate."
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The Pack Slut
वेरवुल्फ़They say there are two sides to every story and the truth is somewhere in between. That's not true according to Lenora Anderson. She has been crowned the pack slut and as far as she is concerned her side is the only truth. Don't you want to hear th...
