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The subtle, mocking lilt to her tone isn't lost on me, yet I find myself powerless to muster the indignation to call her on it. Not when my entire being is focused on the tantalizing sway of Jenna's hips as she moves.
My wolf snarls possessively, every fiber of my being aching to claim her, to press her against the nearest wall and taste those ruby lips. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess to tear my gaze away, to keep from devouring her right then and there.
To mark her as mine for all to see.
???
The Howling Wolf is alive with the raucous laughter and clinking glasses of my pack members when I arrive with Jenna and Hannah. The dim, smoky interior embraces us, mingling scents of stale beer and woodsmoke with the earthy musk of my kind. I scan the crowded space, my wolf immediately on edge amidst the chaotic energy.
"Let's get drinks!" Hannah's voice cuts through the din, her excitement contagious. Jenna follows her with a smile as they head to the bar.
I spot Marcus leaning against the scarred oak counter, a bottle of beer dangling from his calloused fingers. He offers me a subtle nod of greeting, his hazel eyes narrowing as he picks up on my inner turmoil. I know he senses the struggle to keep my baser instincts in check around Jenna. A part of me bristles at the unspoken disapproval in his gaze, but I can't entirely blame him.
Chloé, one of the younger, more submissive members of our pack, approaches with a drink in her petite hands. She dips her head respectfully as she sets a tumbler of amber liquid in front of me. "Alpha," she murmurs, her voice barely audible above the throbbing bassline.
I offer her a curt nod of acknowledgment, already distracted by the way Jenna's hips sway as she walks toward a booth. Hannah links arms with her, the two of them laughing conspiratorially.
“Thanks for the drinks,” Marcus nods to Chloe. “Go ahead and have some fun.” She offers a shy smile and heads toward the dance floor.
The thumping bass of a new song fills the air, and I watch as Jenna, Hannah, and Chloé take to the small dance floor, their bodies swaying in sync. Jenna is a vision, all tousled auburn curls and bright smiles, utterly unaware of the effect she has on me.
Jenna's movements are fluid, graceful. She's a vision, all softness and light amidst the harsh angles and shadows of our world. The wolf claws at my insides, aching to pull her flush against me, to mark her as ours in the most primal way possible.
The beast rumbles its approval, a low, possessive sound that seems to reverberate through my very bones. Yes, this woman will be ours, no matter what stands in our way.
A low, appreciative whistle from somewhere behind me has my hackles rising. I whirl around, lips peeled back in a feral snarl as I search for the source of the offensive sound. A pair of human males, likely college kids out slumming in the supernatural part of town, are leering openly at Jenna's swaying form.
Before I can take a single step in their direction, a firm hand clamps down on my shoulder. "Easy there, Alpha," Marcusrumbles, his deep voice cutting through the red haze of possessiveness clouding my vision.
I shrug off his restraining grip, a wordless growl of warning vibrating in my throat.
"Well, well, if it isn't the great alpha himself, slumming it with the humans."
The mocking voice comes from behind me, and I turn to find a trio of shifters leering at me with undisguised contempt. At their center is a wiry blond kid I recognize as Liam Blackwood, Marcus's little brother and a low-level member of my pack with a chip on his shoulder the size of the Appalachians. Flanking him are two burly males whose scents mark them as members of Theodore Waverly's pack – my cousin, the deserter who turned his back on our pack years ago.
"I don't remember inviting Waverly's dogs into my territory," I growl, fighting to keep the wolf at bay as its hackles rise. The last thing I need is an all-out brawl with these mutts, no matter how satisfying it might feel to put them in their place.
Liam sneers, taking a bold step forward as if he has any right to challenge me. "Last I checked, this was neutral ground, Thorne. Or are you too busy playing puppy dog with your new human bitch to remember the rules?"
My wolf snarls, outraged at the blatant disrespect. It takes every ounce of restraint to keep from lashing out, from asserting my dominance over this insolent pup. Only the thought of Jenna's presence holds the raging beast at bay.
One of the burly males beside Liam lets out a crude guffaw as his eyes latch onto Chloe. "Well, lookie here boys. It's a little Whispering Pines bitch all dressed up." He leers openly at her petite frame.
My wolf bristles, hackles rising at the crude insult directed at one of our packmates. The urge to rip out this fool's throat is nearly overpowering.
Chloe shrinks back, her pretty features pinched with discomfort as the other male steps up beside his friend. "Don't be shy, darlin'," he drawls with a lecherous grin. "We all know submissives like you live for a big shifter's attention."
A vicious snarl rips from my throat, the sound feral and menacing. I can feel my restraint slipping, the wolf straining to tear free and put these disrespectful curs in their place.
"Everything okay over here?" Jenna interrupts.
The soft lilt of her voice instantly cuts through the bloodlust fogging my mind. My wolf calms, soothed by her mere presence as I turn to face her.
I find her standing with her arms crossed over her chest, hazel eyes alight with a quiet strength that momentarily steals my breath. Even with her petite frame and delicate features, there's an undeniable aura of power about her – a quiet, unshakable resilience that calls to my very soul.
"They were just leaving," I growl, the words little more than a guttural rumble from deep within my chest. I allow my gaze to linger on Liam for a beat, silently conveying the consequences should he choose to escalate the situation further.
With a disdainful snort, he gives a curt nod to his packmates before brushing past me, his shoulder connecting with mine in a final show of disrespect.
