Bound to the Billionaire

Chapter 24: Seth

"Go ahead," I said, my voice close to a growl. My teeth were gritted, and I tried to keep my hands steady. Number one rule of shooting; never aim at something you're unwilling to destroy, and this wolf's face was, at the moment, something I'd decided I was ready to destroy. Even in self defense, that was something that shook me to whatever could've been at my core. A heart? A soul? But I couldn't think about it. "I'm the Alpha of the Redemption Pack. You don't think I'd be willing to use silver bullets?" I hoped they couldn't hear the tremor in my voice. I hoped they couldn't sense my fear.

The air in the room stood still. If the wolves and I were playing chess, they'd had my king running the entire game. And now, they were suddenly in check. My injured leg shook, the red running from my thigh so thick and bright it looked like a stroke of paint.

At any moment, I could collapse. The only thing keeping me upright was the adrenaline, and I knew it; they had to know it, too. But my thumb twitched, my trigger finger at the ready.

First, one retreated, its eyes half-lidded. And then the second. And then, A mass of dark furs, slinking like giant ferrets out of the room and presumably out of my goddamn house, their heads low and their tails even lower.

It was a risky play, following me into the pack house. Though most wouldn't believe suspicious neighbors crying 'werewolf,' it never hurt to be extra careful. If unaffiliated humans found out that weird-ass versions of themselves that could live for thousands of years and (generally) shift into wolves at will, that would be it. The end of life as anyone on Earth knew it.

I stood there for a second, my heart lodged in my throat. My rifle I kept aimed at the door, my feet planted hard, like I'd grown roots. The stillness felt so thick I could taste it, the smell of blood--my blood--so thick even when I cracked my mouth open like my wolf often did I could hardly smell anything else.

And then---THUD! I heard the impact before I felt it, my feet slipped out from under me and I hit the ground hard. There's only so much a man (and his wolf) can take, and I'd just about taken my share. Things were not good; I had to bind my wound, as much as I didn't want to dirty up the shirts that hung pristine in Dad's closest. Do what you want, just don't be stupid, was one of his favorite things he'd tell me. Refusing to clean my wound because I didn't want to hurt one of Pop's flannels? Yeah, that would be pretty stupid.

The house hadn't been updated in some time, so the closet doors sported long mirrors that used to be fashionable. In them, I could see myself, my beloved walnut Ruger tossed painfully at my side. My face, stark white; blood loss, no doubt. My hair was so greasy it looked brown, and my eyes, the money-makers, the baby blues, looked manic.

I looked feral, a wounded animal, ready to kill. Which, mind you, I literally was.

But I didn't expect to see the face behind me.

I screamed; I couldn't help it. I'd seen that face before, I'd seen it screwed up with hatred. Green eyes, so brilliant they must've melted heart. They stopped mine with terror. I couldn't move, my hands sat frozen over my gun. This time, I stared at him. He was big; big like Nico, his muscles jutting under his plain white shirt. His sandy hair was parted neatly, cropped short.

"Don't try to run," he said.

My wolf shrank. I could feel his panic, thick, like sludge replacing the adrenaline in my veins. When I breathed in deep, I still mostly only smelled my own blood, but the dark void of his scent filled my lungs up and up. I glanced desperately back at the safe; the door had swung closed by its weight, just as it was designed to do.

"Y-you must be Seth," I said. I hated the sound of my voice, hated how small it was in his presence. I felt small in the presence of an alpha. A real alpha of a big respected pack. And not the sweet Nico who would bend over backward to make me feel good and safe.

"Y-y-you," he said, lifting his voice in his s**t attempt at mockery. He curled his lip back into a sneer. "You call yourself an alpha. You're pathetic."

I reached for the gun, but there was a sick feeling building in me. I couldn't shoot him, looking at him gave me the same feeling I got when I looked at a tiger in the zoo. The werewolf in front of me was something beautiful, something powerful.

And I kicked his ass. Whoops.

"What do you want? Why are you here?" I asked. My leg hurt. That's all a part of my brain could dedicate itself to, that my leg had a big ol' tear in it that was bleeding out more and more while I sat there. "Get out."

Seth laughed. There was something in me that itched when I thought of him and Nico together; two powerful alphas like that, maybe he was right, maybe the Moon Goddess did make a mistake. Maybe they were perfect for each other.

"Or what are you going to do?" he asked.

I picked up the Ruger. I took aim. Right at one of his brilliant green eyes, everything in me wanted to put it down. Especially when a big grin stretched across his face, pretty on his sharp features.

Although muscular, he looked lean, defined. There was a strange elegance to the way he moved, much more than what I saw originally when he tore into Nico's room. The elegance of his penmanship, the coolness of the way he spoke, compared to the animalistic rage he carried when we he fought, it made my stomach turn. It didn't feel right.

"I'll shoot you," I said.

"Oh," he said. He smiled, all teeth. "Then why don't do do it then?"