"I'm a psycho at the bottom of the pack, and you're a warrior built to kill. Isn't it a weird mix?"
He shrugs, a wicked grin plastered to his face.
"I think it's the perfect mix."
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*Completed *
Klepto is a werewolf, an...
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Klepto POV
I move around the kitchen frantically cleaning up after the grubby pack cook, George. Stealing a quick glance at him, I get a good look at the guy. His complexion is beat red as he practically screams out order after order to the staff.
Trying my best to keep from being under foot, I wipe, scrub, and organize my heart out. I'm positive that I'm going to have sweat stains on this shirt. I love this shirt!
"Too much salt, you idiot! Why on earth do I have to be stuck dealing with omegas who can't do squat! I need professionals and this is all I have to work with!" He rages, shoving a small omega boy to the side so he can try and salvage the ruined dish.
I send the kid a sympathetic smile to reassure him, but he acts like he doesn't see it. That's the hard truth of being the most hated person in the pack, my friends. I've learned to deal with it somehow.
Then the meals are being hauled off to the banquet hall. I slink back to the sink to finish up the dishes when a strong grip clamps down on the collar of my shirt, effectively tearing me backwards.
"Here, take this." George shoves a platter of green beans into my arms, jostling me. "Go! Now! Table 6!"
Shrugging off my surprise, I rush out of the kitchen. Rarely do I get to bring food to the actual events, Alpha Green doesn't want the pack to have to look at the "disgrace of a wolf" while they try to enjoy their meals... or something along those lines.
As per usual, the banquet hall is bustling with life and laughter. The dark navy curtains reflect the modest lantern light that fills the whole space with a soothing atmosphere, well maybe for most. Being surrounded by 300 pack members that glare at me tends to fill me with anxiety.
Dodging many wolves, I manage to locate table 6. As I draw closer, an overwhelming smell of spice body slams me. My breath leaves my lungs and my feet freeze as if they're suddenly sinking into cement.
I know that smell.
A pair of humor filled yellow eyes fixate on me, and as soon as they do the humor is gone, replaced with a strange emotion I can't place.
He's surrounded with an aura of deadly power, so strong and menacing that it burns my skin. His jaw is clenched, and the veins in his arms bulge out. I can't stop myself from staring at him like a woman possessed.
"Those smell scrumptious." A light voice calls, and my trance fades into nothingness. My eyes attach to the speaker, only to find another lycan. The blonde one with oddly permanent amused eyes the color of moss.
In fact all 4 of the lycans sit at the small table, each of them watching me closely. There are a few empty seats among them, it seems no one is brave enough to join them. It's not hard to figure out why.
