Chapter 11

After Tak finished drying off from a quick shower, he tossed the white towel on the motel room floor. "What the hell were you thinking?" he asked his reflection. "You have no business hitting on a woman like that."

Not just because of her lush beauty, but high-ranking women in his tribe were off-limits to that kind of invitation—especially from him. Though Tak was an alpha, he would never attain the rank of a Packmaster within his tribe. That made him less of a catch, but it didn't stop a few of the wild ones from knowing him intimately. He enjoyed the companionship of a woman in bed, but nothing more. Anyhow, Tak didn't know how to impress a woman like Hope. Leaving her shop with his tail between his legs only proved that point.

He grabbed a clean pair of black cargos from his bag and a grey cotton shirt that fit him snugly. While he hadn't bothered to wash his hair, he'd removed the rubber band so that he could braid it again the right way.

"You should have never stuck around," he said, chastising himself. "See what you get? You're lucky her father didn't walk in and see you in that dress." Tak pulled the shirt over his head, wondering why it mattered what her father thought of him.

The more he stopped trying to think about her, the more she invaded his thoughts. Hope's duality fascinated him, as did her independence. Did a woman like her even require a man in her life? She had her own source of income, and not everyone could be business savvy. Tak had learned by watching his father that it required intelligence, motivation, and a certain kind of decisiveness that not everyone possessed.

Just as she'd been decisive about having the good sense to reject his offer. When he implied she had a lot in common with her jewelry, her befuddled reaction left him wondering if she'd taken it as a compliment or an insult. Her pieces were beautiful, rare, and deserving of a worthy owner. That was the meaning behind his remark, but an explanation would have embarrassed him since it was on the heels of a rejection.

"Jackass," he muttered, relaxing on the edge of the bed.

And worst of all, he liked her. She was the whole package. Her thoughtfulness, sensitivity, and family loyalty were qualities he most admired. There was something about her face that made it difficult to look away. Not overly feminine or traditionally beautiful, but soulful and expressive. Her lips were plump and inviting, and damn if she didn't have the prettiest eyelashes. Hope was the kind of woman he imagined himself with in another life. She made him feel protective. She brought out the warrior in him.

Tak put on his pants and stood up. He lifted his black comb from the nightstand and ran it through his long hair, which was tangled from the night before and still carried a wave. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach when he thought about their interaction in the store.

Did he really believe that Hope would have accepted his offer? No respectable woman would go against the wishes of her blood, and he respected that. Tak wanted resolution with Lakota—he needed to find out how much of that friendship had been genuine. Lakota didn't know about Tak's past, and that made their bond special. It wasn't that Tak didn't have friends; he got along fine with the men in his tribe. But tension existed beneath the surface. In most nontribal packs, one alpha lived under the roof and led the pack. However, the Iwa tribe expanded territories and formed small subpacks. While each Packmaster headed his own group, they worked together as a sort of Council with Shikoba as their leader.

Even though Tak had the power and entitlement of an alpha, he held no rank.

He never would. Not with his tribe. Tak would always be the wayward son to his father and to his people.

That displacement made room for conflict. Betas saw him as weak and often challenged him with words to assert their dominance. It was common behavior for wolves to create a pecking order amongst each other, and Tak was fair game since he'd never hold a Packmaster's rank. It became difficult to control an escalating situation—betas would criticize him or refuse to comply.

Perhaps that was another reason why Texas was a welcome respite. No one knew him here. Men on the streets who sensed his alpha power looked upon him with suspicion and fear. He liked it. Tak had put up with the derision from his own packmates for too many years, and though he was the type of man who got along with everyone, it hadn't dawned on him how much it had beaten down his spirit until this short little trip.

Tak took his time braiding his hair. His tribe was the only home he'd ever known, but it was also a place he didn't belong. When Lakota had left town, Tak fell into a state of depression. He felt trapped again, so maybe this visit meant something more than just mending a friendship. Tak was standing on the precipice of a life-changing decision, and if he wasn't careful, he might wind up choosing the wrong path.

Tak stared down at his callused hands, which ached to have someone to hold. Sometimes the loneliness made him want to turn back to the bottle. As much as he wanted to get shitfaced and forget about his best friend ditching him and a beautiful woman rejecting him, drinking would only make him a weaker man. It had been a long road to recovery—not just from the emotional trauma of his past but also the stigma of being a recovering alcoholic. They didn't have AA meetings or recovery programs in his tribe. Tak had overcome his demons alone, and sometimes he wondered if the door to his hell was still open just a crack.

Thoughts about his past and future conjured images of the present. After shifting last night for a brief run, his wolf had led him right back to Moonglow. Wolves don't understand pride or honor; they're motivated purely by instinct. He'd skulked in the shadows, watching her. Guarding her. He wasn't convinced that the city offered any measure of safety, especially knowing how rogues preyed upon the weak or unguarded. Females living outside a pack were vulnerable, so Tak had communicated to his wolf that they were staying put until she was safely in her car. At some point, Tak must have grown tired and blacked out. He couldn't remember anything about the lump on his head. One minute he was watching her help a customer, the next he was lying on her bedroom floor.

Tak grabbed the laminated guide from the dresser and scanned through it. He spotted a familiar brand on the leaflet—the universal symbol identifying Breed establishments. He flipped it over and a place called Howlers caught his attention. The last thing he wanted was to stroll into a Vampire bar; he needed to be around his own kind. Maybe find a woman to make him forget the emptiness inside. Tak knew how to make a woman laugh, and he also knew how to make her hot and needy.

The small print said that Howlers had drinks, games, music, and good food.

"Sounds like my kind of place," he said, tossing the guide on the bed. "Might as well see how these city boys like to party."