CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 3

Adam

Visiting human-owned bars is a rare escape for me. Since I’m certain I won’t run into anyone from my pack here, it lets me relax and sip one of their weak alcoholic drinks in silence. I never expected such a lovely little wolf shifter to be sitting all by herself tonight. Even without catching her scent, the awareness within her, and her sharp reflexes, I knew what she was. She stood out like a sore thumb, but not because of her looks or her dress.

It was the sheer naivety in her eyes, the childish excitement.

After the grueling day I’d had, I should have avoided her, but I could see the way some of the men in the back were eyeing her. Or perhaps it was the sheer enthusiasm that I found so charming. Big blue eyes, pale skin, delicate features that were oddly familiar, and yet, she drew me to her. Her little game with made-up names made me want to smile.

My life has been consumed by work, by the drive to succeed. I barely get the chance to relax or to have fun. But this girl, she made it easy to laugh, to talk. She was like a glass of cool refreshing water after a day in the burning sun. My exhaustion faded after just a few minutes with her.

I should have realized then.

When my wolf rolled over inside me, rumbling in bliss, it should have been a warning sign.

All it took was a whiff of her scent.

Pure, lovely, and mine.

My fated mate.

I don’t understand why she doesn’t realize it. All female wolves know when their fated mate is before them. Her pheromones are all over the place, but she doesn’t seem to know what’s happening. I’m starting to believe she has lived a very sheltered life.

However, I can’t let her go.

I don’t even know her name.

My wolf refuses to let her walk away. Just her scent is enough to drive me insane. I need her!

But as she gives me a shy look filled with a confused desire, whispering something, my whole body seizes with shock.

’A virgin? My fated mate is a virgin?’’

Wolves are highly sexual, especially once they hit their youth. They don’t sleep around, but one or two sexual encounters are a given. But to come across my fated mate who is still untouched, it drives my wolf crazy with greed.

She’s mine! Only mine!

It’s easy to take advantage of her innocent, trusting nature. All I have to do is lure her in with my touch, and I can see how hard it is for her to resist. Perhaps if I were any other male, she would be able to. But I’m her fated mate. Her pheromones will keep her from thinking straight.

Satisfaction fills me when she finally kisses me back. It’s a clumsy attempt, but the kiss is so much sweeter than any I’ve had before. I’ve never experienced such raw desire before. I want to devour this woman. I want her spread before me as I teach her all the carnal pleasures. I want to taint her pureness with my mark.

I don’t know how I manage to get her to the hotel down the street. My mind is cloudy with desire, with her pheromones, making it hard for me to control myself with each breath. Inside the room, with the door locked behind me, I stare at the wide-eyed woman.

I can see the hesitation in her eyes, the wariness. She’s struggling to think past her own desire.

I immediately touch her cheek, comfortingly. "Tonight’s our night, isn’t it, Anna?"

Her lips tremble, and when she hesitates before nodding, I lower my mouth onto hers. She kisses me back, fumbling, trying to match my pace. It’s cute, and it makes me want to throw her on the bed and just kiss her all night. It’s a mixture of desire and affection.

This woman, this woman with her innocent and shy eyes, she’s going to be the death of me.

She tastes sweet, and I want more. I lick inside her mouth, and she doesn’t stop me. My hands grip the edge of her dress, slowly pulling it up, stopping when she freezes, and then resuming once she relaxes.

She wants this. It’s obvious. But her body has never experienced this sort of touch before, and I have to take it slow.

When my hand glides on her bare back from under the dress, I scent something other than desire. I smell fear.

And as I smell it, my fingers feel something long and bumpy along her back. Before I can ask, she stiffens. "The light. Please get the light."

I look down at her, and the desperation in her eyes makes me want to ask her why she doesn’t want me to look at whatever’s on her back. But that look in her eyes, it makes me reach over and flick off the light switch, shrouding us in darkness.

Her hands are gripping my upper arms, and when she releases a breath, my curiosity is piqued. It feels like scarring, an odd thing for a wolf shifter to have. It must have been a bad injury. Wolf shifters have quick healing. Therefore, very few of us have scarring.

However, feeling her relax in my arms, I turn my attention to the current situation. I kiss her again, this time trailing my mouth over her chin, along her jaw to nibble on her ear. "Should we get rid of the dress?"

She hesitates and then nods, quickly pulling it off in the process.

I press my lips together, closing my eyes, trying to suppress my laughter. She’s adorable!

My laughter dies, though, when I feel her perky breasts pressed against my chest. Her nipples are hard, and my hand covers one breast. It fits in my palm, and my cock hardens almost instantly. Her soft gasp drives all the remaining blood south.

Picking her up in my arms, I carry her to the bed before gently depositing her on it.

Even in the dark, I can see the face of the woman who wants me to call her Anna. I vaguely wonder what her real name is. It must be beautiful.

She clambers to the head of the bed, and I stalk her on all fours until my arms are beside her, my mouth inches from her.

I start with soft kisses, trailing them down her neck and her collarbone, sucking on her nipples, kneading the other one. Her fingers are clenched in the bedsheet, and she whimpers in arousal. I love the sound. I want her to make more.

I bite down gently on the hard nub, and her back instantly arches. I suck relentlessly on her chest, trying to get her to moan, to whine, to shift on the bed, trying to deal with these complex feelings. When my mouth reaches her pussy, she tries to pull away, whispering, "You can’t do that."

I grab her by her thighs, pulling them towards me, and watching her fall back on the bed, her legs in the air, ankles resting behind my head. "Yes, I can."

"W-Wait, that’s not––" her protest is cut off when I lick along her slit. I do it again and again, and she lets out a sound I’ve not heard before. It’s a pleading whine, and it’s music to my ears. I dive in, using my tongue to stir her into a frenzy. Her cries are broken whimpers and moans as I teach her what my tongue can do.

Her first orgasm has her screaming out the name ’Adrian’. I tighten my jaw. I want it to be my name. I want her to cry out my name. I want her to know whose hands are touching her. I bite down on her inner thigh in punishment, but she’s quivering from the aftermath of the orgasm and just sighs.

I have to take it slow so as not to scare her, but as I move up her body, I use my fingers, inserting one in. My finger glides right in since she’s wet and dripping, but the tightness of her hole makes me want to insert something else inside. She’s trembling, her eyes on mine, worry in them.

"Can you take off your shirt?" she manages to ask while my finger is still inside her.

"Why don’t you take it off for me?" I suggest.

As she moves forward, her lips part in an ’o’ sound, my finger now deeper in because of how she moved.

"N-Never mind," she moans.

"Fuck, you’re sexy," I whisper hoarsely, grabbing her by her nape and slamming my mouth down on hers. As I kiss her, I free my hands and tear off my clothes one by one. When I finally have her ready, I push myself inside her, slowly. She stiffens for a moment, her pleasure-hazed expression being replaced by one of discomfort. My hands busy themselves on the most sensitive parts of her, my eyes greedily taking in her expression as I take my fated mate’s innocence.

As she takes me inside her, she looks breathtaking. I move slowly, letting her get used to me. She’s so tight and wet that it’s taking every ounce of restraint within me not to take my pleasure. However, her expressions make me want to move even slower. As a look of helpless pleasure forms on her face, she whimpers, and I want to see it again and again. There is such innocence in her movements, such curiosity and desire that I want to show her the world.

It’s when her nails dig into my arms that I know she’s ready.

Her cries as I move faster and harder are delicious, and my mouth descends on her neck. I can feel the urge to mark her. I’m her first, and I want to be her only. It’s a backward mindsight, but when wolves are faced with an untouched fated mate, male or female, the desire to mark them is much stronger. It’s hard to resist, and I gently press down on the spot where she would receive my mating mark.

As soon as I do, she grows wild, wrapping her legs around me, her pussy tightening around my cock. My mind turns blank as I hold her down, thrusting into her, mindlessly, seeking my pleasure, chasing hers. She breaks first, and when she does, she screams my name.

It’s the wrong name, but I don’t mind anymore.

I just know that I won’t be satisfied by just one night with her. I want to taint her purity with the darkness inside me. I want her a disheveled mess. I want her under me, around me, and I don’t know how to fulfill all these urges. This isn’t enough. I want more. I want everything.

I hold my own climax back as I drive her over the edge again and again. She’s panting and pleading, exhausted, but I don’t give her any reprieve. I bite down on her shoulder when I finally climax, but as I drag her trembling body on top of mine, I smooth back her dark hair, smiling darkly at her now relaxing form.

She thinks we’re done.

We’ve only just begun.

***

I stir and roll over on my back.

Opening my eyes, I stare at the ceiling for a few seconds.

I feel satisfied, almost as if a missing part of me has finally returned. When I roll over, however, there’s no one there. A frown on my face, I touch Anna’s side of the bed, and it’s cold. Her scent has close to faded, and when I look at the open window, I realize it was a deliberate act.

Did she really just leave?

She should’ve been in severe discomfort. How did she manage to walk out of here?

Or maybe I’m wrong. I’m already striding toward the bathroom as the desperate hope strikes me, but she’s not inside. There’s evidence of someone having taken a shower, though.

I stumble back to the bedroom and sink heavily onto the bed, running my hands over my face.

As my eyes drift to the side table, I see an odd sight.

There’s a hundred-dollar bill folded neatly and tucked under the lamp. Blinking, I take it out to make sure I’m not seeing things. It really is a hundred-dollar bill. My eyes close and incredulous laughter splutters out of me.

She left me money?

I don’t know whether to be insulted or amused over the fact that she left me money like I’m some sort of hooker or that she thought I was only worth a hundred dollars. The very idea of being paid for sex by my own fated mate is beyond ludicrous, and despite the situation, I can’t help but bury my head in my hands as I sit on the bed and laugh. There’s nothing else I can do aside from that.

But when the shock of the matter fades, it hits me that I don’t know anything about this woman, not even her name. How am I supposed to find her?

Shoving on my clothes, I make my way down to the lobby and see the same clerk from last night.

"Hey." I head over to him and he looks up from his magazine.

"Yeah?"

"The woman who came with me last night, when did she leave?"

The clerk shrugs. "Around four? I offered to call her a cab, but she refused. She looked like she was panicking."

He seems curious, which is probably why he’s sharing so much information.

She left at four? Meaning she never slept. She must have waited for me to pass out before leaving. A strange tension fills me.

She could be anywhere right now, and aside from how she looks, I don’t have anything else to go on.

Why didn’t she stay?

After the night we had together, how could she walk away so easily?

My hand tightens around the bill in my hand, and I have half a mind to give it to the clerk, but something stops me. This is all I have of her.

"I see," I mutter.

Fine, if she wants to play hide and seek, I’ll uncover every stone in this city until I find her.

***

It’s been one week.

One week, and I’ve not even been able to discover what Anna’s real name is. To make matters worse, I’ve had my people poke around, but there’s no female shifter who fits the description that matches my fated mate.

I stare down at the photographs before me and toss them at my quivering assistant. "Do any of these women have pale blue eyes?"

"N-No, sir." Gerald looks like he’s about to pass out.

"How hard is it to find a woman with long black hair and light blue eyes?"

"I’ve looked everywhere, sir," Gerald says, his voice unsteady, "but these are the only females in our pack who match this description."

I stare down at the last photograph on my desk and frustration fills me. It’s been days! I should have some idea of who this woman is. If she’s not from our pack, then that means she belongs to another wolf pack. She did tell me I wouldn’t see her again. Did that mean she was simply passing through the city? If that’s the case, then it’s going to be harder to track her down.

My heart sinks and my lips press together.

If I had known she was going to be such a flight risk, I would have focused on getting some information about her rather than sleeping with her.

"Sir?" Gerald suddenly says. "What about the meeting with the CEO of Jayborn Industries? His secretary has been calling every hour."

I look toward my assistant, irritated.

The door opens, and someone enters. I hold up my fingers and stare at my assistant.

"I told you. Tell him I’m not interested in their offer."

"I already did that but––"

"Then get it into his thick skull." I give Gerald a sharp look. "I have more important things to focus on."

"Sir, but you already missed two meetings with them. They want a face-to-face––"

My head whips around to face him. "Do you work for them? Do you?"

"N-No, sir," Gerald stammers. "I just––"

"As my assistant, you represent me!" My voice is hard. "If you go around bending over for every Tom, Dick, and Harry in the business world, you’re giving me a bad name. Tell them no, and make that the end of it. Otherwise, I’ll get someone more competent to do it."

Gerald pales, and when he gives me a jittery nod, hurrying out, I close my eyes, leaning back in my chair.

"You know, you attract more flies with honey than vinegar."

I open my eyes at stare at my childhood friend, scoffing, "Says the man who drives off his secretaries with a stick. How are you enjoying being an Alpha?"

Robert Montgomery is a tall, good-looking man, and one I grew up with. Half of his face is badly scarred from an incident in his childhood where his half-siblings held him down and tortured him. His father, who had been Alpha at the time, had not wanted his first-born son to succeed in his position, so he refused to get him the help he needed. And now, although Robert got the last laugh by having become the Alpha, he still has to live with this scarring for the rest of his life.

Robert walks over and pulls out a chair, sinking into it. "For your information, I now have my younger brother working for me. He’s an excellent secretary."

"You mean the seventeen-year-old you adopted into your pack?" I raise a brow.

"Harry’s quite competent at following my instructions. It’s a pity he still has a year left in high school. I plan to hire him full-time immediately after he graduates. Besides, I never made my assistants cry like you do. You know that one’s probably packing up his desk as we speak, don’t you?"

"I’ll find another one."

"You need a permanent one. Specifically, one who can keep up with you and your demands."

I run my fingers through my hair, sighing. "That’s the least of my worries right now."

Robert grins at me. "This wouldn’t happen to do with a dark-haired woman, would this?"

I immediately straighten. "You found her?"

The reply is disappointing. "No. But the sketch artist you worked with… I don’t know, Adam. The girl is oddly familiar. I just don’t know where I’ve met her."

Hope renews within me. "So, you have met her."

"I think so. I just… I can’t place her." Robert’s brows knit together as he concentrates, trying to jog his memory. He then shakes his head. "Anyway, maybe you can pull yourself out of your own head for a minute and figure out what to do about your brother. His assistant has been calling every day for an appointment with you."

"How do you know that?" I stare at him.

Robert sinks into the visitor chair, shrugging. "I’m nosy. I also had the pleasure of meeting your brother. He’s a piece of work. And I thought mine was crazy. I’ve never seen a more deluded man in my life."

"Mom always spoiled Norman," I sneer, my fingers tapping on my desk. "And ever since Dad and I had our differences, Dad put him on a pedestal. Although the nerve to try and go for an acquisition of my company takes some hard brass balls."

"Why go through any of this at all?" Robert questions. "Just tell them no. Why let them think you are interested?"

I get to my feet, walk over to the floor-to-ceiling window, and stare outside, my hands tucked in my pockets. "Every once in a while, I need to remind Norman of his place."

"You want to hurt him?" I can feel Robert’s gaze on my back, and I scoff.

"I’m not interested in his feelings. I want him to understand that he can never surpass me. He was always like this, even as a child, arrogant to a fault. Even now, my father’s company has fallen to this state because of Norman. Ever since he came on board, KDL Foods has lost out on numerous contracts, suppliers, and customers. Their quality has taken a hit and their reputation is in shreds. I never thought my father would be so foolish as to let his personal feelings get in the way of his business. But he’s grown conceited. I guess like father, like son."

My gaze is heavy as I stare out at the darkening night sky.

My father’s and brother’s greed is endless. They carved a path for me that was filled with hatred and anger, but it was a path I held onto. Even now, when I proved to the man who sired me that I can exist outside his realm of control, he’s adamant about seizing everything from me, as if he believes I will fall in line and hand over the company I built with my own two hands just because he wants it. These demands for acquisition meetings are just a formality for my father and brother. Knowing their deluded arrogance, they expect me to hand over my years of hard work simply because they wish it.

"I don’t believe in that phrase," Robert disagrees. "I believe everyone is a special kind of asshole. You and I didn’t take after our respective fathers. Anyway, I really do think you need to nip this in the bud. Just let them have their meeting, twist Norman’s balls, and then throw him out."

My lips press together.

"Yeah, I probably should."

This whole acquisition issue is getting to be a pain in the ass now, but I have to get it over with.

Pressing the intercom, I say, "Gerald, set up a meeting with KDL Foods for tomorrow morning. Shift my meeting with the investors from Holan to the afternoon."

A pause and then, "Yes, sir."

Robert studies me. "So, are you treating me to dinner today, or do you plan to bemoan your lady love again?"

"I’m not bemoaning anything." I scowl at him. "And why do I have to get you dinner?"

"Because I came all the way here from my office to yours. It was a long drive. A full five minutes. I deserve a meal for my efforts."

I roll my eyes at him. "Sure. Then you’re getting coffee."

Our conversation tapers off to light-hearted banter. However, as the day goes on, I’m still as distracted as can be. The thought of my fated mate is eating at me. It bothers me that I know next to nothing about her. If I had her name, at least I would have something to work with. A part of me is growing frantic that I might never see her again. There is not a single trace of her. I even went back to that bar, but they told me that their CCTV footage was recycled every three days. The motel never had a working security camera.

I still have that hundred-dollar bill tucked in my pocket. As the day draws to an end, I stand in front of the large glass walls and look out into the glittering city of Seattle. Taking out the bill, I stare at it.

"I’ll find you," I murmur. "Even if I have to search the corners of the earth."

Her every sigh, those breathy moans, the way her face flushed when I touched her, it’s all imprinted in my brain. I can’t sleep at night without hearing her voice in my dreams. My wolf is getting restless as am I.

Patience, I warn the animal inside of me. We’ll find her.

****

The next morning, I’m in a state of annoyance.

Unable to sleep because of the same dream over and over again, I’m cursing myself for setting the meeting with Norman and his people early in the morning. Seeing my brother’s face when I’m already cranky is not going to do any wonders for my mood.

"Sir." There is a knock on the door, and Gerald peeks in. "Mr. Moore and his team are here. Should I put them in conference room three?"

I nod.

"About refreshments––"

"Not even a glass of water." I glare at him.

Gerald sighs. "Yes, sir."

I watch him leave and close my eyes briefly. Robert bet me a thousand bucks and a beer that Gerald will quit by the end of the week. Finding a new assistant is going to be an incredibly painful and drawn-out process. I’m not looking forward to it.

Getting to my feet, I make my way downstairs to where the conference rooms are situated. As soon as I get off the elevator, a familiar scent rubs my nose, and I go still.

It’s not possible…

There is no way I’m mistaking this scent.

She’s here! My fated mate is here!

My feet are moving, following the scent, and I’m standing before the conference room door, my hand on the door handle, when one of the lawyers from my team who is outside the room clears his throat.

It takes that small sound to bring me back to reality.

She’s here.

I stare blindly at the door.

She’s behind this door. But if she’s behind this door, then that means…

Is she one of Norman’s people?

"Sir, is everything okay?" one of the lawyers asks, and I tighten my jaw, unable to grasp what this emotion is inside me.

"Let’s go," I breathe, my hand tightening around the door handle.

Right now, the worst thoughts are flittering through my head, none of them flattering to the woman I thought was mine.

Opening the door, I step inside, my legal team right behind me. I’m hit by that sweet scent, and it’s as if no one else exists in this room. There is only one female. My eyes meet hers, and for a moment, I see a steadiness in her gaze, only for it to be replaced by pure shock and horror. That’s all it takes for me to know that our meeting that night was accidental.

Her hair isn’t inky black. It’s a gorgeous silver color, tied in a loose bun. Without her makeup, she doesn’t look plain, but she looks simple and sweet. Her dress is conservative, and her posture is rigid.

I know it’s her.

There is no mistaking that scent and those eyes.

And I also know who she is.

Dad’s little sponsor project.

It angers me. It infuriates me that the woman meant for me is no more than that pathetic little charity case girl whom my father always kept close to him. No wonder I couldn’t find her. Cynthia Rose is my father’s pet project. She doesn’t so much as breathe without his approval. She’s also the reason his business took off a couple of years ago. Dad’s secret weapon is my fated mate.

It must be my anger driving me because I tear my gaze from her and turn my attention toward my younger brother.

"Norman." My voice is cold. "Why must you make a nuisance of yourself? You really have no self-awareness. I’ve had several reports of your little tantrum in my lobby last week."

"You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, Adam," Norman sneers. "And it’s not my fault your staff is so incompetent they can’t even differentiate between important visitors and the normal ones."

"You’re not a VIP here, Norman." I take a seat at the head of the table. "Now, do you want to tell me why you’re wasting my time today?"

Norman tosses a file my way, and it lands on the table, skidding forward. I raise a brow at his rudeness, and I catch Cynthia wince.

"Is this supposed to mean something?" I ask, blankly.

"Well, pick it up and see," Norman orders.

"You," I look at Cynthia who flinches, "pick up the file your boss threw at me and hand it to me properly, or you can all just get lost."

She moves quickly, and as she picks it up, the edges of her ears redden. When she hands it to me, I take a discreet sniff of her scent, and my wolf purrs in approval. She’s washed off my scent, but there’s enough lingering for me to feel satisfied. She hands it to me, and I notice her simple cut nails. There is no glaring red nail polish that made those thin fingers stand out.

I hand the file to one of my lawyers, and he goes over it quickly.

He shakes his head at me a moment later, and I shrug, "Too bad. We don’t like your offer."

I get to my feet, adjusting my jacket. "Now, if that’s all––"

"What the fuck do you mean you don’t like it?" Norman snarls. "You’re lucky I’m offering that much for your piss-poor excuse for a company."

My lips curve. "If it’s so piss poor, why are Father and you so desperate to get your hands on it?"

"Listen, you basta––"

"What Mr. Moore is trying to say," Cynthia immediately interjects, her voice calm. She’s not meeting my gaze entirely, but her posture is firm and confident now. "Is that, this is just the starting ground. If you have a demand, we’re willing to go over it and begin negotiations."

I open my mouth but don’t trust myself to speak for a few seconds. When I do manage to get the words out, I say, "At least one of you has a brain. We’re not selling this company, but we are looking for investors. So come up with something reasonable, and I might not consider it a waste of my time."

Saying that, I walk out, my legal team on my heels.

"Sir––”

I wave off my counsel. "I have something to do. Send me a report."

I get into the elevator, and as soon as the doors close behind me, I let out the breath I had been holding. She looked so different from the woman at the bar. The woman I met and took to my bed was confident, flirty, and naive. This woman is sharp but wary. Striding into my office, I stand by the glass wall to look outside. Just as I suspected, not five minutes later, Norman and his people exit.

Norman seems to be in a bad mood, and Cynthia is walking beside him. He’s saying something to her, his movements exaggerated in his anger. That was what Norman always did. He liked to intimidate those smaller than him.

I watch the way she moves. From her body language, it’s obvious she doesn’t want to be around him.

They stop in front of a car, and she says something, and before I can react, Norman lifts his hand and slaps her. Hard.

She falls to the ground as I begin to snarl.

He grabs her by the neck, half strangling her and bashing her head against the car wheel.

My wolf roaring, I’m about to rush downstairs when two members of Norman’s legal team intervene, pulling him off of her. Norman is shouting at her now while the men surround her protectively. But none of them look surprised by this treatment.

Fur sprouts along my neck as I begin to lose control of my wolf. They’re helping her into the other car while one of them tries to talk to Norman.

It takes everything within to keep myself standing there.

Abuse.

Norman is abusing my fated mate, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Yet.