Chapter 2

SHADOW

Being in a pack was an advantage. You grew strong together and protected each other, but I could feel those savages who killed my parents were still out there. I couldn’t risk my life, my freedom, and Kent. I owed him my life.

I inhaled deeply as I tried to calm down and take control.

“What was that for?” I asked my wolf.

“He smells something interesting.” She was even purring.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop it, or I will shut you off.”

As that Alpha shifted to a man after killing my helpless mother, the image of him flashed back to me. I could never forget the murderous look in his eyes and the distinct scar on his right face.

When a mate died, the other half was considered dead too. I watched how life was taken away from my father as he watched my mother’s lifeless, shredded body. At that moment, I didn’t want to have a mate. I didn’t want to be helpless and weak. I couldn’t endure the intense agony of losing the love of my life. At the same time, my wolf needed him, if he was even somewhere out there waiting for me.

“Are you okay?”

I growled. “Do you really have to ask me? You feel everything I feel, dumb wolf.”

“We’re gonna be fine, Shadow.”

“Shut up. I need internal peace for a moment.” I closed my eyes again for several seconds. Then, a smell of crisp dew of the grass in fall, a hint of sandalwood, and terpenes of fresh pine wafting through the air — that scent definitely belonged to a male— a strong male. And if my fear was correct. There was a werewolf in the city right now, closer to where I was.

I went back in the elevator. My anxiousness brewed back as I watched the floor number descend, but I got it under control. One thing was clear to me from the very beginning— the animal in me could still be feral. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt when I uncontrollably and unwillingly transformed in front of humans under stress or fear or when she was provoked.

Maybe it was time to join a pack, but for a rogue longer than anyone, the Alpha wouldn’t make it easy for me, and I would be an Omega—the lowest rank in the pack.

The elevator slid open in the lobby. I went back to the cafe, but the table Kent and I last occupied was already empty. I couldn’t help but sniff and heave the air filtering various scents, from cologne to human smell and the strong aroma of coffee and sugar, but that distinct, alluring scent still lingered in the cafe.

”What the hell is going on?” I asked myself.

Kent must have taken my bag after the meeting. Either the meeting was abrupt and didn’t go well, or they sealed the deal quickly.

The scent—he was definitely a werewolf, a strong werewolf, had a rank in the pack— an Alpha, but who was he?

I walked out of the cafe and decided to go back to my hotel room to change. I was wearing a pretty white corporate dress, but I also enjoyed being comfy in shirts, jeans, and my pajamas at home.

“I can’t wait to run,” I told myself, more likely to my wolf. She gave me a purr in approval.

As I reached the lobby, I felt the hair at the back of my neck standing on end. A human nose wouldn’t notice the faint scent, but being a Lycan, I quickly followed it to the revolving door as it became stronger.

Heart slamming, I stopped and saw a man standing behind the glass wall. He was about six feet and a few inches tall. His stance possessed authority and absolute control— he used to bark around orders, and his men followed without questions because they respected and feared him. He had broad shoulders and strong arms through his stretched dark gray, well-tailored Italian suit. And I could tell just by looking at it. It cost him a thousand dollars. And I bet he looked handsome, as well.

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes deliberately on his back, out of dirty thoughts where wasn’t the right time and place, but his pants snugged around his powerful sculpted thighs.

I wanted to study him, whoever this man was, that caught my attention. I wanted to study him dressed and naked but cut abruptly short when the man turned around as if he sensed someone was ogling him.

Holy shit.

As I met the man’s gaze, I gulped and froze like a wet cat. Those eyes were silver gray. I took it back—he wasn’t handsome. He was gorgeous, so insane, it should be illegal. He was too surreal for his own good.

I ignored my inner voice telling me to talk to him because I knew that moment. I let my curiosity lead me to a dangerous end— it just killed the wet cat.

His thick, dark eyebrows suddenly met together, and his eyes became dark, deadly, and freezing cold as if he had a displeasure of catching me ogling him.

“Oh, shit.”