The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven

ANASTACIA

When Paul places a papaya-less Pina Colada on the table in front of me, he retakes his seat. He hasn't fixed

himself a drink and | ponder why for only a moment before | take a healthy sip and close my eyes, moaning with

pleasure.

“Mmm,” | murmur. That's really good.”

When | meet his gaze, his eyes are heavy lidded and his lips are wet. The ridges of his muscled forearms are

flexed tight and shifting under the light. He clears his throat, focusing on something beyondwhen he says,

“So tellabout the shadow hounds.”

“The first thing you need to know... is my Gran was a Mystic like me. She was super talented and wanted to

teacheverything | would need to know about my gifts but-“I pause, taking a bite of the steak and flushing

red when my stomach rumbles with furious hunger. “Im so sorry,” | say feeling stupid. “I haven't had a real meal

in-

“It's okay,” Paul replies, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “It’s cute.”

“Starving is cute?” | asked with a wry smile.

“Not that part,” he says somewhat seriously. “Your tummy’s little grow! That's what is adorable.

in my stomach. “Uh huh.” Are you sure you don’t mean creepy? 1 take a few more bites of my food to subdue

the chorus of gurgles erupting then I continue, “Like | said, Gran was a Mystic. My dad was never around. He

abandoned my mother when Chelsea and | were very young. so that’s when she decided to move us all with

Gran. Gran knew right away what | was, even though for the first few years of my life. my mother denied there

was anything different about me. My mother was born normal, and she was pretty resentful offor a long

time, but | loved her anyway. How could | not? She was my mom. However, she died only a year after we moved

in with Gran..

“When | was growing up, Gran used to tell us stories about shifters. Shifters that were good. Bedtstories

about true love and mates, Stories that any child would have been glad to hear Valiant wolves and brave lions.

Protective, devoted, bears and even possessive sharks. They were love storien..”

“Possessile sharks?” Paul asks, flinching “Your kidding? | didn’t even know there were shark shifters.”

I chuckle, watching him carefully. “Yeah, there are. According to Gran there are shifters of just about any kind.

His blue eyes are wide and guileless as he studies nie. “Right... but sharks? And how are stories about

possessive mates good for bedtime?”

I laugh, “Not sure. But the way my Gran told it, they were romantic. Besides, from what | can gather, all sifters

are possessive. Is that not

all.

He smirks. It's definitely true. But labeling the shark lone as possessive paints a pretty scary picture.”

| guess it does. Never thought of it that way. “You're right. She only tolda couple about sharks, but in both

cases the male shifters were pretty bloodthirsty when it cto the humun women they loved”

“Human women??? Paul snaps, shocked.

1. How does that even work? Imran what on earth?”

| giggle, taking another bite of my food and reveling in the way the stical practically melts against my tongue.

The man certainly knows his beef. Whatever he added to the marinade is fre for my palate. “You'll and they don’t

need to live as sharks all the time. The sas you don’t need to Ink as a wolf all the time. But one thing is for

sure. They re always near the ocean. You might even have a few out here.

He appears thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t know. As far as I'm aware, none of us have ever come

across any

“Fair enough” | say, starting in on my mashed potatoes, which are light as a cloud and deliciously buttery.

Anyway - it wasn’t until

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven

met Draco, that the started tellingstories about hounds.”

“Draco?” Paul questions, his e

eyes going to the shaded windows almost automatically. “Is that the Alpha?”

“Yes,” | answer with a nod. “Gran hated him.”

Paul's eyes widen with interest. “Smart

smart woman. They're the most despicable type of shifter there is. As far as | know, anyway. Do you any idea

what they do to their women?”

have

Biting my lip, | meet his angry gaze. “Yes. | mean - | didn’t. Not when Let him. But the first t| allowed him to

bringhome, my

Gran lost her shit.”

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“She knew what he was?”

Yes. She was talented that way. She could see things. So can I. She knew what he was just on sight of him. My

sister can do that too, but she doesn’t have any magic.”

“So your sister is still alive?”

“As far as | know. | haven't seen her in two years.”

Paul appears stunned, but he keeps the focus of his questions on the matter at hand. “So your Gran tried to warn

you against him and I’m assuming you didn’t you listen to her.”

“I thought he was different,” | say with a shudder. “He hadconvinced that he was. We dated for two and a

half years and not once did ever see any sign of his pack. He said he didn’t have one. That he didn’t believe in

the consumption of compatible mates. So | continued to see him, despite Gran tellingdifferent horror stories

about hounds every t| stepped in the door. Eventually, | gave myself to him and-" A loud growl rumbles from

Paul's chest and | stop speaking.

“Excusea moment,” Paul says, standing up. “I think | need a drink after all.”

| take a deep breath, closing my eyes against the unwanted memory of it all. The last t| saw my Gran

FLASHBACK

“Please baby girl, you have to listen to me. He is not your average hound. Normal hounds are bad enough!

Shadow hounds not only drain your life, they drain your magic! He'll keep you as a slave and slowly drain you

until he’s consumed all of your gifts and then he will kill you. It’s what keeps them alive,”

“Enough, Gran! | don’t want to hear any more of it! I'm leaving. | just cto say goodbye.”

“lease angel, don’t go. It’s what he wants. To get you alone-"

“STOP IT! | won't

t listen to this

this shit! He loves

and | love him. He's proven it toalready.”

Please!

tell me

haven't been with him! Please tellhe hasn't shared you with-"

“That's it! I'm out of here! Mom was right about you. You just want to control everyone in your life.”

“He’s not the one you think he is. There is another and he is out there waiting.”

“Oh please! Enough with the fairytales. You don’t care about what makeshappy. Not really.”

“If I never see you again. Anastacia, just know that | love

you

mad | forgive you.”

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy Seven

Therra no mend to forgive me, Adraise for not sorry

END OF FLASHBACE

gathered in pry eyes by the tPa

Is Draco the only man you've ever been with? Pad

ripting with energy and are beautifully tensed

I mod, staring at him quizzically, and my antwet jedy appears to make His eyes are brighter, One daytbus,

they are new alment fronted was show

Aim. To him. A man you don’t

A man | dont belong to? What?

“I guess you could say... | belonged to him at the time:

“Not be spift the end of snarl, “No, you did not.”

the time.”

No, Anastacia. Not him. You were never his,” he growls, bis

turken. Why does he lost

th what looks like p

“Okay, okay, fine, | was never his,” | whisper, placatingly and he finally seems to relax. Studying him for a long

moment what | see there is farmiliar in a way that cannot be real. It’s almost as if should know him. Like he

should know the the reason | can think of for something like that to be true.

Oh my God.

Visions, or flashes of memory suddenly assault knelt at her feet and begged her forgiveness.

Itfrom every angle. Of Gran alive and in her Irving room of her talking to

But what memories are these? They didn’t happen.

“Oh my goodness,” | say as | realize. “Oh wow.”

“What?” Paul says, alarmed. “What is it?”

| stare at him, the beauty of him. The power in him. Gran’s words from our visit surround me, making me

lightheaded.

...someone has finally breached Draco’s barrier over your heart. You are free now

“Oh my God,” | say to myself, forgetting for a moment that Paul sits right next to me.

... true mate has set you free...”

| shake myself, turning to face Paul and seeing

im with

new eyes. “It's you,” | whisper. “You're him.”

“What?”

“A true mate has set you free... That's what my Gran said toin my dream. She said... that I've found my true

mate and... | think she was talking about you.” Warmth and happiness floods my body and suddenly | don’t care

about any of the things | heard him say on the phone. All | want is to have him holdclose.

Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven

Me? Pad diffent, his eyes naftowing.

I nod happily, reaching

or his face. “You're my true mate.”

No, Paul hath and |

an almost hear my beart shatter. “No | am not.”

Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Eight

PAUL

The way the purple practically drains from her gaze does something to me, sending a wave of alarm through my

body. It slices right through me. The violet of her orbs appears to wilt, or... close nfl Like a flower in the winter

preparing to hibernate. Or a Venice flytrap, once it has an insect in its grip. It dissipates into the black of her

pupils with frightening clarity. The show of it is shocking and thrums through my veins cold as death.

That one statement | made, my denial of her, seems to have done somellsing irreparable to her charming eyes.

Even her coloring pales, the natural flush of her skin disappearing completely and her throat bobs as if she’s

working to capture her air. Hands that were reaching for my face just a moment ago jerk backward so quickly

that I'm forced to grab the back of her chair to keep her from toppling backward.

But that’s not the worst part.

The light overhead glistens off the moisture beneath her thick, willowy lashes and liquid fire burns behind my

chest.

“Ouch,” she chokes out, blinking rapidly. The sound of that one word sends a spike of longing through me.

Something inside churns with regret, begging

ingto fix whatever thread | have severed.

“Anastacia,” | whisper, struggling to keep my hands at my sides. | want to touch her so badly | can hardly stand

it. I'm practically aching to lean in and capture her lips in my own, but... | don’t.

“Ana,” she corrects me, her voice quivering so slightly

htly that I'm forced to shake my head against it.

She looks so sad. So last. Fuck

*Why did you callthat? Why would you say that?”

She swallows thickly, tuming away. | must have been mistaken. | guess-1-1-"

“Just quit it,” | interrupt. “Stop playing with me. Mates are sacred for wolves and pretending to be my mate is

wrong”

“I'm sorry!” she shouts, slamming her eyes shut almost as if she doesnt want to look atanymore. “I-I

shouldn't have called you that. I- | was wrong. | mean... | must have been.”

She’s a witch, Paul. A charmer. And she’s playing games with you. She knows about mates. She knows what

buttons to push

This is not real.

But..

My phone chirps and for the moment 1 ignore it. Anastacia and | are sitting so close to one another, should be

able to feel her heat, but | can’t. Her body has gone cold and she’s practically shivering.

“Where am 1 to sleep?” she asks as she resumes eating her meal. “I'm sure you want to head out early

tomorrow.”

“No.”

“No?” she chortles, taking a hefty bite of her potatoes.

“Do you really think I'm just going to drive you a hundred or so miles away and set you free? Just so the hounds

can find you again? You still haven't finished tellinghow shadow hounds are different from pegular hounds.”

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Eight

She laughs humorlessly. “What Ho you care if they findagain?”

“I shouldn't,” I snap. “But | do. So, you're not going anywhere until

yo heen dealt with.”

I'll figure it out,”

Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm

“Well | don’t need you to care about me. I've been taking care of myself just fine up Ill

Like hell if you will. I'm the one that is supposed to

1. no. No I am not.

I'm not him. I'm not.

The fucked up part is that | wish it was true. Despite the messed up shit that | said to Rainier about witches,

Anastacia is hands down the most beautiful creature I've ever cacross and to have her as my made

wouldn't be any kind of hardship. It would be... perfect. But how would | ever know it was real?

You could mark her. Duh. Then you would know.

With a hefty sigh, | do my best to explain. “All I'm saying is that you don’t have to charminto keeping you

safe. You don’t have to pose as my mate to getto-”

“I said stop it!” she shrieks, the sound echoing through the room and causing the light bulbs above us to flare as

bright as the sun before burning out completely.

My eyes shoot upward, then around. The only light available to us now comes from the open-concept

kitchen. “What the fuck?”

“Oh!” she gasps, obviously just as shocked as | am.

“Fucking witchcraft,” | complain, shaking my head.

She trembles next toand when | study her grip on her fork | see that her hand is shaking. Damn it. She's

either a damn fine actress or I've really upset her feelings.

Watching as she finishes every single bite of her dinner is like torture. Her plump lips drag across the fork with

every bite, opening and closing of her mouth painting pictures forof what it might feel like to have it close

around my shaft.

“It’s probably best if we stick together through the night,” | say before | can stop myself.

She laughs, then swallows the rest of her pifia colada in one gulp. “So, it’s the couch forthen?” she asks,

spinning in her seat until ber knees press into my outer thigh.

Fuck.

My eyes are drawn downward, toward the apex of her thighs and my chest rumbles before | can stop it. “Do you

really want to be so close to the front and back doors? With nothing but bricks and wood between you and those

hounds? Wouldn't you feel safer with a wo!! separating you from whatever fate they have planned?”

Her chin lifts haughtily. “Would | be safer? Or would | wake up to find myself tied to a stake in the yard?”

That image brings a suggestive smile to my lips and my eyes saunter over her body from her head to her toes.

My dick pulses in my pants and | say, “You might awaken tied up to a stake, but not in the yard.”

Her color comes flaming back and she inhales sharply, her eyes narrowing onas she crosses her

beneath her chest. Her nipple

sharpen to points, poking like diamonds against the thin fabric of my shirt that shes wearing, and | growl Fucking

hell, | forgot she wearing a bra

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy Eight

My madli sealers fun night shed just as | decide to day face it,

anarls and greeds sound from out in the sends annend the horse. | loved to my hot, my the direction of the front

door,

“What?” the whispers, oliviously not alde fra hear an mall as | can. “Wha

A four possessive honed riots thangd

“Go upstairs,” | tell her, “Lock yourself in my room and don’t ci

nummands, standing

“Why?” she whines, grabbing my forearm and lighting a fuse with her touch. “Don’t pre into her front is pressing

into mine. Her nipples are still hard as pearls and Tran feel them so well that the need to have them in think

abad for moment. My dick spikes, thrinting upward annow and pointing pragir for nec

| smile down at her, peeking into the open neck of my shirt just long mor to inspire a groan of envy at the cotton

des wean

The strangest soothing glow begins to billow in my chest, and its difficult, but | pull away from her hakking

myself of her mother and stepping toward the hall. “Do as | say, Anastacia. It'll be alright.”

“No! | don’t want you to go out there! The shadow bounds-they don't just feed on flesh. They led on mage. Ther

normal hounds.

My head jerks her way. “They feed on magic? What?”

She shudders, her gaze lowering as if ashamed. “My Gran once toldthat Draco meant to keepat a slave

and drain my mage sowie

| want og to the day the it’s what keeps Draco young | didn’t believe her because he hid his true self fromfor

two long year

“When did she die?” | ask warily.

“One week ago. The same

sday | started running”

“Why did you start running?” | ask, although | think | already know.

She gazes atas if she’s ashamed. “Because he introducedto his pack. The pack he claimed didn’t