The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Five

ANASTACIA

When | finish my bath | feel amazing, | hadn't had a sonk like that in fever and trying to keep ahead of the

hounds putout of a shower for a week. Enough mud coff ofto fill a swamp with and swear my skin is

two shades lighter now that I'm freshly scrubbed.

Stepping into Paul's room, | take everything in. His fluffy black pillows and indigo duvet, the gray walls, the black

velvet furniture... The space is dark with artificial lanterns lighting the corners of the room in soft orange light.

Gazing around, | notice he forgot to lay out clothes forto wear, so | go ahead and help myself to a couple of

things in his drawers. Selecting a pair of his boxer briefs that | tie together in front to keep them on, and a thin,

wom while t-shirt that’s as soft as kitten fur, | float toward the stairs in somewhat of a

trance.

Why had Paul and | been under the cold spray of the shower when | woke up?

Why had | been passed out at all?

When | was submerged in that heavenly warm water, with bubbles all the way up to my chin, | couldn't shake

the feeling that there was something | was supposed to be doing. Or something that | was supposed to

remember.

message?

But what? And from who?

The aroma of something cooking spirals up the stairs then into the room and my stomach attacks. Growling

ferociously and remindingthat it's been a while since I've had an actual meal Maybe Fil remember what it is

after | eat.

The shirt I've chosen smells delicious. Like papaya and frosted lemonade. A smell that makesthink of

cocktails on the beach.

ere was a bar in the living room. | wonder how well stocked it might be. Maybe | can make a couple of drinks.

There w

As | float down the stairs barefoot, | can hear him talking on the phone, so | pitter patter over to the bar and grab

a tumbler. Then... I listen as he talks about the hounds...

“Yeah. | had words with the Alpha chasing her as well. According to him, she killed his sister or something and

owes him her life, Paul

says.

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My jaw clenches in anger. What a fucking sneaky Merle War Drake is. First of all, he never had a damned sister.

I'm the one that has a sister.

“Wait a minute. You haven't even left the island yet?” Paul is saying as | stalk toward the kitchen needing to set

Paul straight. Pausing in the doorway to let him finish his conversation, | admire the lines of his back as he

moves. The ripples of tendons and flesh are itching to be explored. Goddess, he’s sexy. Despite the loose

sweatpants, the definition of his ass calls out to me. Every little more he makes dances with muscle. My mouth

goes dry just watching.

“Cane?” Paul asks.

Funny that he hasn't even noticed that I'm standing here. He's a wolf shifter after all. They're known for their

superior hearing. | can barely make out the voice on the other line, but | know this much, it isn’t female, which

for sreason pleases me.

“Fuck that. We don’t even know if it’s true,” Paul says, and my guess is whoever is on the phone suggested that

he giveup.

I'm not gonna lie, his passionate response has my core on the hat trot.

Still not noticing me, | eye him as he flips two steals in the pan, | begin to roll the tumbler between two hands,

trying to be patient as

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Five

Paul goes on. “Not yet. This is happened. She's still in the bath.”

Nope. Actually Fim behind you,

“What the hell? Fuck no, | wouldn't touch a witch asshole. Not for my son. Not even of she were my more.”

A ringing starts in my ears that’s so loud, for a moment | sway on my feet.

The sting of his words is immediate and much more powerful than I'd like to admit. Batting my eyelashes to keep

moisture from gathering. | prepare to make myself known, but something stops me.

Paul snorts and then insults me. They're creepy as fuck.”

A

surge of white hat anger engulfs my palms and the glass in my hands shatters withouteven dropping the

damn thing. Sparkling slivers shower my feet and although I'm shocked-because I've never had that happen

before my mind focuses on the blond bastard in front ofthat just calledcreepy.

Why creepy? How frocking awful/ be? | have never been called CREEPY in all my life.

Paul spins afound, the sound of the tumbler exploding catching his attention. His gaze lands at my bare feet and

the glass dust all around me. His eyes sweep upward slowly, the bulge behind his pants swelling in the space of

an instant. Creepy my ass. Fuck you, Pretty Paul

He reaches out for a moment when he sees me, almost like he wants to grab for me, but my throat is tight and

my eyes are hot with anger. So | shake my head no as my chest begins to heave with rage and disappointment. |

suddenly feel so out of place that | don’t

ven know what to do.

| wish | were at home. At Gran’s old place. With my sister.

Leme. You should leave.

And run again? No fucking thank you. | need a good night's sleep at the very least. After that, maybe I'll be able

to figure a way home. Maybe Ill have this idiot in front oftakeall the way back to Louisiana. | doubt the

hounds will be able to follow his jeep on a two and a hit thousand mile trip.

“Fuck,” Paul hisses into the phone. “I've got to go. Callwhen you dock.” Then he hangs up and we simply

stare at one another. To my immense pleasure, Paul looks like he just swallowed a toad. He knows he just fucked

up. He knows. He mumbles, “I-I didn’t... | mean I just

“No!” | choke out. “Don’t you dare apologize. I'd much rather know how you really feel than have you pretend

I'm welchere or pretend you're attracted to me. Then my eyes wither downward, where his cock is still hard

as stone. “Creepy indeed.”

“Pretend I'm attracted to you? Who said that | was attracted to you?” His handsface flushes and then he

smirks down at his crotch. “Uh. Doesn't look like pretend to me.”

“Oh, fuck off,” | snap and he loses his smile, his jaw clenching angrily.

I hate that he’s so handsome.

His words echo in my head | wouldn't touch a witch asshole. Not for any reason. Not even if she were my mate.

That declaration alone sends a rip of pain right through the center of my chest, though | can’t figure why.

Why does his dismissal ofhurt the way it does?

I've always known that Wolf Shifters have mates. I've never wished to be one. So why does it feel like he just

crushed my heart in the palm of his hand?

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Five

| snort my disgust at him and at myself as | start to back away, but he lightning fast so he’s ontin the tit

takesto gap, Staring down at me, his blue eyes swirl like the turbulent sea. “Don’t more until | can get that

glass up.

| sneer at him, despite that his sudden nearness has my downtown damsel damp with anal, Ni, A. Bant get all

CREEPY on Jim non,

He steps around me, heading for a hall closet and grabbing a handheld yacim from inside. Returning to me, he

bends over and fin granted a close up view of his grand derriere while he sucks up the gla. Finishing up the

chore, he sets the vacinin on the breakfast nook to my left and then reaches forso quickly that | don’t have

tijne to protest.

At least, not until I'm in his arms and being carried brid

bridal style mer to the sink. “I can walk, you know,”

“No,” he says simply, not meeting my y eyes. “That glass exploded at your feet. Letwash it off.”

No! | want to scream, but | don’t. The truth is, being this close to his powerful chest is soothing in the strangest

way. Even if | do disgust

him.

He setson the cold counter so that my feet are in the sink, then he uses the sprayer to remove all traces of

glass from my ankles and soles. The water is warm so | relax a bit, staring into the drain as the remaining glass

dust swirls down the pipes, all the while ignoring his eyes that | can feel boring into the side of my face.

Shutting off the tap, he grabs a towel from the cupboard above the sink and pats my feet dry, then his thumb

grazes my that heat floods my core. He inhales sharply, his eyes going nearly black as he gazes down at me.

A tiny smile turns his lips. “You like me.”

skin so gently

| swallow thickly, my eyes snapping toward the stove at his back. “You're burning the food.” He ignores that, his

hand leaving the towel to stroke five Engers up the side of one ankle. Again | feel my pusy thrumming. Dawn

him. “And you need to stop touching me,” | grumble. “I know how much you hate it.”

Chapter Comments

Jacqui Rossouw

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Just asking for a friend.....where is the next chapter.....??? Lol......I need my fix, Jaylee.