Chapter 7

Seren

Rome's family didn't look the least bit like him. With the exception of Brooke's daughter, Zora, who had married into the family, they all had the same striking white-blonde hair. Although, Rome's mother's could have been a different color at one time. Now it was silvery white with age. Rome's younger brother, Kieran, alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and his two sisters, Briar May and Prairie Rose, looked so similar they might have been triplets.

About half an hour after they'd arrived, likely because Brooke had called them, Rome's family spilled through the cabin door. After introducing themselves to her and Waverly, Kieran explained that there were a lot of them, brothers and sisters and pack mates, but they didn't want to overwhelm the small cottage, so they'd come in shifts.

It had taken them just over four hours to get from Rome's condo to Brooke Wind's doorstep. By then, the night had been reduced to pitch. At the sweep of her headlights, a tiny woman who might be ancient or might be not so ancient, it was nearly impossible to tell, had thrown open her door. She didn't seem surprised to see them, and when she noticed the extent of Rome's injuries, all she'd done was click her tongue.

She was probably a witch.

It was a rude thing to ask someone pointblank, so Seren hadn't.

She'd thought that one day, having Rome on his knees, at her advantage, would be the sweetest payback. She hadn't liked playing hardball at the hospital, pretending to be mean when inside she was screaming and crying and just wanted to hug him because didn't hugs fix things and make people feel better?

It turned out that being the able bodied one in control sucked, but it was better after she didn't have to worry about finding the way and getting hopelessly lost, Rome and Waverly both depending on her in their own ways. It was better with Rome's brother and sisters, his sister-in-law, and his parents there to tell her and Waverly repeatedly, in different ways, that everything would be okay.

While Brooke worked on Rome in the back room, Seren had sat with Waverly. It was way past her bedtime, and she was overtired, so there was no chance of her sleeping. Seren didn't even suggest it. Not when she was worried about her papa. She'd need to see him resting peacefully when it was all over before she slept. Where, Seren wasn't sure. The cottage was so small it appeared it only had a living room, kitchen, and a back room. Brooke's bedroom was likely somewhere, but that seemed to be it from what she'd seen earlier.

Outside, there was a small shed. The yard itself appeared vast, with many different carefully tended gardens, surrounded by woods.

Zora was at home in the cottage, and she'd made them all cups of tea and mugs of coffee. Now, they were crowded into the small room. She was squashed on the couch beside Rome's two sisters, Waverly on her lap, while Kieran paced the room and Rome's parents sat in the upholstered vintage armchairs.

The whole thing felt very much like a Victorian era parlor meeting.

In a very tiny parlor out in the middle of nowhere with night sounds creaking and groaning and hooting all around them.

Waverly kept fidgeting, which ground her bones into Seren's legs.

She very much wished Zora would come back. She'd gone in to help her mom since she'd been well trained. The rest of them waited in agonizing silence. She got that no one knew what to say. Their anxiety over their son and brother was palpable. They had no idea who she was. Had they even met Waverly before? By the way the little girl clung to her, she wasn't sure they had.

No one scowled at her for being an outsider. They didn't make her afraid or unwelcome. They were all just in their own headspace at the moment, and she could respect that, no matter how it made her chest feel like it was caving in.

It was a tremendous relief when Zora swept back into the room fifteen minutes later, a weary smile on her face.

"The leg is set, and the shoulder has been put back into place. Mom checked him over for any other wounds, but it's mostly road rash. The hospital did give him morphine, at least as best as she can figure, but it's mostly worn off now. He's in a lot of pain, but we're going to make him some herbs that will help him sleep through the night. We don't do casting since shifters heal so fast, but he needs to stay very still for the next few days. Not something he'll like to do." She walked over and knelt down in front of Waverly. "It's a very good thing that you're here to keep Ro—your dad entertained. He'll know you're safe since you're with us here, so he won't worry."

"We all know that Rome will be up and trying to fight the minute his eyes pop open." Brooke stopped in the hall on her way to make up the potion.

She had to be in her seventies, but she was barely wrinkled. She was the poster child for the fountain of youth. Or witchcraft. How exactly had she let Rome's family know he was here? By the phone, or by telepathy? Carrier pigeon would have been too slow. Bats? Familiars?

Seren had never met a witch before, and she was a little bit awed and intimidated by Brook's presence even though she was tiny and radiated kindness.

And, okay, so, technically, she might not even be a witch.

"The herbs I'll give him will take him down for twelve hours, but nothing more than that. He's a fighter and he's been carrying some heavy burdens that he's not willing to set down just yet." It certainly seemed like Brooke knew everyone better than they knew themselves.

Waverly leapt off Seren's lap so fast that pins and needles shot through her legs. She hadn't realized how numb they'd gotten. She tried to stand up and nearly cried out in agony as her feet refused to take a step.

Zora looked up at her, ready to help, but Seren shook her head. She was fine. Especially after what Rome endured. He hadn't once made a sound. Not even when they put the bone

back into place and set his shoulder. She would have screamed the place down.

"We're pretty similar sizes," Zora said, eyeing her up. "I can drive back home and get you some clothes. Pajamas and stuff. You probably didn't get a chance to bring a bag. Rome said you came straight from work to pick him up."

It was there on everyone's faces again. Who exactly was she? What did she mean to Rome? That's what everyone wanted to ask, but they were too polite to do it.

Thank fucking goodness.

She could hardly say that Rome had been a client up until she'd signed her body over to him and now, she was basically a sex slave, minus the sex.

"I didn't, but I'm fine. Really. You don't have to do that."

"Are you going back to the city tomorrow morning?"

Waverly whipped around and studied her pleadingly. How could she just leave when she was the only familiar thing Waverly had here? Rome was in no condition to take care of her. She was five. Seren couldn't just dump her on strangers. Even if she could, she didn't want to. She'd moved her clients. Running back to the city would be cowardly.

She scooped Waverly up and hugged her close, her heart melting when the little girl's arms came around her neck and her head nestled tiredly against her shoulder. "No. I'm staying as long as Rome and Waverly are here. I think he's planning on going back to the city as soon as he can."

The thousand other questions didn't come. Zora just nodded and looked at Kieran. Clearly, there was something on her mind, but she wanted her mate to do the asking. He looked like the type that could sniff out the truth.

Kieran cleared his throat and rubbed one huge hand along the back of his neck. "It's a full moon tomorrow night. That means we're doing a pack run. Would you like to join us?"

"Me?" Seren jammed a finger at her chest. Technically, at Waverly's back, but they got the idea. She nearly looked around to locate the real person he was asking. Surely, it couldn't be her.

Kieran and Zora both nodded. She whipped her eyes to Rome's sisters and his parents next, but if they were surprised, they all had insane poker faces. It wasn't their decision to make. It was the alpha's.

"But Rome's been banished," she started.

"You haven't," Zora stated softly. She opened her arms, naturally motherly, and Waverly reached for her. She touched her lightly on the nose. "Neither have you."

"I've never…" Seren cut herself off. They'd think she was pathetic. Doubly so because she was a shitty wolf and a sex slave.

Who enslaved someone and never wanted to touch them? Maybe she was more like a masturbation slave. Meat beating inspiration.

"I didn't grow up as part of a pack," she corrected, leaving her thoughts behind and being truthful about this at least. "I've never been on a pack run."

"Oh. That's great." Zora let Waverly reach for her long chestnut hair. She started to play with it, twisting the strands to try to make a braid. "Would you like to come too? You could meet your cousins and the rest of your family. Aunts and uncles. Members of the pack. You have so many."

"Yes!" The little girl looked so animated, but then her face fell. "Except, I can't shift. I haven't yet."

"That's no problem. You don't have to run with the wolves. It's more of an adult thing anyway, at least as far as the full moon goes. You'll have plenty of company with the other kids. If you'd like. You don't have to."

What would Rome think about that? Would Zora even extend the invitation without talking to him? Seren felt like he shouldn't get to dictate what she did outside the bounds of the contract, but at the same time, it felt incredibly disrespectful not to so much as ask him. He couldn't participate. He was barred from his own pack and his own family. Out of spite, she should have agreed immediately, but she found that she couldn't.

She just couldn't do that to Rome, and not just because he was down and out at the moment. Hurting him made her chest ache like she had the worst indigestion.

She was still hesitating when Brooke stepped in with a large mug in hand. "I have the herbs ready if you'd like to take them to him. Waverly and the rest of you can visit after. They'll take about thirty minutes to work anyway."

"Me?" She was asking that question way too many times tonight.

Brooke nodded. She didn't elaborate and no one said that it shouldn't be her. Not Rome's parents, who hadn't seen him in how long? Not his own blood family who should have been able to see him first. Her. The outsider. The one who no one had the faintest idea about.

She carefully took the mug. Even though she felt like she might fall over, half with exhaustion and half with disbelief that any of this was even real, she didn't spill a drop. Her feet turned to wood as she got closer to the small bedroom in the back. She passed two closed doors realizing the cottage was much bigger on the inside than she had thought, Rome's door was open, a cheerful light with an old glass fixture left on. The room was kind of spartan, with only a larger bed with a white metal frame and an antique wooden washstand beside it, but then again, it was probably used for patients, and the less that had to be cleaned and sterilized the better. The floors were wood like the rest of the cottage, old hardwood planks. She expected lace curtains at the window, but instead found heavy blackout drapes, which also made a lot of sense. If someone was meant to be resting in here, the room could be made light or full dark easily.

Rome was on the right side of the bed, sitting up, but he seemed to take up the whole thing.

He was shirtless, sporting a bandage on his shoulder and down his arm. The smell of salve was pungent in the room, but even worse was the raw, injured, maleness of him. His scent was even darker and stronger, half animal and half dark delicacy, taunting her to sink her teeth into it.

It wasn't just his scent. It was the rest of him. She couldn't make her eyes focus on his face when his golden skin was all on display. A few bruises and scrapes, but his chest was mostly flawless. In every way. He was incredibly muscled, from his huge shoulders all the way down to the sculpted contours of his six-pack abs. The sheet was just low enough around his hips, where the elastic band of his boxers stood out, that she could also see his Adonis V.

She knew she was staring. She knew she was blushing, but she didn't have to worry about that for long. All the blood would disappear from her face and rush straight between her legs. She tingled there, shamefully wet and even worse, so painfully empty.

She nearly dropped the mug even though she held the thing in a death grip.

When she'd tattooed Rome, he'd worn a muscle shirt, and when she'd done his back, he'd removed his shirt when he was facing away from her. She'd been so focused on stenciling and on the work, and after, on bandaging him up, that she hadn't gotten a good look at his chest.

She could imagine Poseidon there, controlling a violent ocean, a ship pitching on the waves, or Zeus doing battle in a rage, with all his lightning and fury.

"You're staring at me."

Her eyes snapped up. She wished she could throw the mug at his smug face and run. She wished she could run away from all of this, but there was no escape. She had to find her courage. She wasn't going to surrender her pride, she'd promised herself that.

"Just trying to assess how much damage has been done to my work."

"I don't have any tattoos where you're looking." A pause, and then he proved how truly awful he was, as if she could ever have forgotten. "I can smell how wet you are."

She turned and slammed the door shut, then stormed over to the nightstand and set the mug down hard. She got right up in Rome's face, challenging him in a burst of rage that gave her strength. It gave her something more than that. She felt all the blood pooling exactly where she didn't want it to go. Her body buzzed with a terrible need. Rome couldn't move. He was supposed to stay still.

She imagined turning the tables on him, reclaiming all her power and being the one to command him. She'd strip slowly, torturing him until it was his blood that was boiling. Until it was him who couldn't take another minute. Until every single thing he'd ever thought he wanted and shouldn't want and cursed himself for was banging inside his head until it obliterated him. She'd climb over him, grasp onto that wrought iron headboard. She'd make sure he stayed absolutely still and that she didn't jostle him. She'd kneel over his face and direct his tongue. She wouldn't let him have all of her immediately. She'd make him wait. She'd make him tease her slit first before she gave him anything else. Her pussy was a prize and being inside her had to be earned. She'd make him hard. So hard that it was painful for him. She'd make him wait, make him feel like he didn't deserve to be the one touching her, make him feel like he was small and horrible and being used. She'd make him feel like he was the one for sale through harsh, mean commands, and then she'd deny him. She'd make him suffer. She'd be the one to derive pleasure from his pain and his surrender and his humiliation.

She knew she'd never do any of it.

She could fantasize about whatever she wanted, and she could be however mean she wanted. That was only fair. She'd never act on any of it. Taking back her power wasn't about denial. She was already locked in this twisted, messed up game. She was Rome's by contract, but if it was indeed a game, then she'd been playing it wrong.

"So what?" She lifted a shoulder in a shrug, refusing to feel the fear, shame, apprehension, and crushing anxiety of the unknown when it came to him. She was every bit his equal. That contract didn't change who she was. It wouldn't break her. She'd been giving him exactly what he wanted, and that stopped now. "You're hot, but I've seen better."

"Doubtful," he scoffed.

"Wow. Your arrogance knows no bounds. Not sure why that should still surprise me. Even if I did find you attractive, which I don't, the rest of you would ruin it."

"That doesn't explain why you've soaked your panties."

She let him see the evil side of her, even if her sneer was altogether forced. "You're right. The only explanation, given how distasteful I find you to be in general, is that it isn't your body. It's you like this. Helpless. Immobile. Weak. At my mercy. You had to call me for help. You relied on me . It's delicious."

Those coal black eyes ignited with the very lightning bolts she'd imagined angry Zeus would hurl. He hadn't wanted those kinds of gods. Nothing token. She could make him want her artwork. She could make him want her. He didn't want to touch her? She could shatter his resolve. She could turn that contract upside down. She could make him be the one to beg her.

Perversely wishing for justice was one thing. Turning herself into a sex goddess who couldn't be dominated, commanded, or the least bit mortified over her own power was another. She was forty and she still hadn't discovered that long promised transformation of her thirties.

Bile splashed at her throat. She was disgusted with the act she put on, horrified at her words. She wasn't used to being mean. Rome took it in stride. If she'd shocked him, he didn't let on. He certainly wasn't hurt.

"Don't mistake healing for helplessness. Even in this state, I'm still very dangerous. It's not wise to taunt a wounded animal, especially when one owes so much to that very same being."

"This again?" She took the mug back up and brought it forcefully to Rome's mouth, pressing it hard against his lower lip. "It's getting old. I know what's owed, but that's a business arrangement. Short of that, you have no hold over me."

"You're thinking that you can beat me at my own game, but this isn't a game, Seren."

"Right." She tilted the mug, and if he didn't want to wear the minty smelling concoction, he'd have no choice but to open. An unbidden shiver lifted the hairs at the back of her neck. Her nipples stiffened, rubbing painfully against her bra under the black t-shirt with the alien cat head. She'd knotted it just above the high rise of her jeans and that's where the shiver settled, bursting like a toxic bomb. "Just drink this and go to bed, Rome. I'm tired of it. You've got to be exhausted too. It takes real effort to be this obnoxious all the time."

His eyes narrowed. He stared at her and his thoughts, for once, were clear. You've changed.

He didn't open his mouth, even when she tipped the mug so its contents were dangerously close to spilling all over him. All that liquid shimmering over his gorgeous body. It might be lovely, but it really was the truth that it was wasted on him.

"Your family invited me for their pack run tomorrow night. I think I'm going to go. Waverly wants to meet her cousins and aunts and uncles. I know Zora wouldn't have asked me unless she'd already asked you, so there's no pretending that you're butthurt about it."

His hand shot out, tackling the mug away from her. His fingers brushed against hers and she backed away immediately, her blood heating with a wicked electricity. Rome was all dangerous darkness and thunderstorms.

"Do whatever you'd like." He was in full control of himself, even though he had to be in serious pain, even though he was at a disadvantage. He was a master at flipping the tables. If she was playing a game within a game, he was better at both. "It won't change the fact that tonight, you'll be sleeping in this bed right beside me."

"What?" Her palm itched to smack him, but she abhorred violence. Hitting people was wrong, even if they asked for it, and Rome was practically on his knees begging.

"I implied that we are a couple. You're here with me. It's the logical inference. My family likes to think that I'm reformed, or at the very least, doing better. I like to let them worry less. What I did brought them heartache and trouble and I like the idea of them finding peace again."

"I'll tell them we're not," she threatened, hating Rome's calm as she backed away a step. How could he be so deadly when he was at his worst?

"You won't."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because then you'd have to deal with the fallout. You'd have to make the truth known."

"I'll go straight out there and tell them everything."

"No." He tipped the mug and drank a long pull, but even as his throat worked with every swallow, his eyes never left hers. "You won't. It's not even about your pride which you so stubbornly insist on clinging to. It would be so much easier if you would just give it up to me. Let me break you. Become fully mine. It's what you want, in that little secret black heart of yours. You like being bossed around. You like being owned by me. But that's not why you won't tell my family. Not out of pride or shame, but because, for the first time in your life, you want to know what it truly means to be a wolf. You want Waverly to know. You won't do anything to ruin that, but above all, you won't hurt a child."

"You're wretched."

"On every level." He finished the tea and set the mug aside.

Seren stared longingly at the pillows stacked up beside Rome. She wouldn't have the strength to smother him now, but maybe in his sleep. It might be the one perk to being forced into the bed beside him. It might be the only real place to sleep, but she'd gladly take the floor or any spine-bending couch over this new form of torture.

She gave him a look that she hoped scared him. She searched his face boldly, in open defiance. She wanted him to realize that there was nowhere he could hide from her, just as he'd stripped her equally as bare. She was coming for him whether he believed it was possible or not.

She was going to turn this around. She was going to be the one who broke him. She might not know how, but she had five and a half months to figure it out. Let this be the first step. At the end, he'd be the broken one. He'd be the one who craved her. He'd be the one following orders.

"Seren?"

"You're right." Let him think that half destroyed her, and half pissed her off.

She turned on her heel and left, shutting the door too hard behind her.

Suddenly, she was determined that she'd find a way to win. She'd be the victor even if she had to raze herself to the ground to do it. She was there anyway, picked apart, cornered, made base by this man just because he could. Because he was rich enough to hold all the cards.

No. She'd thought so, no. He only had any power because she let him.

No matter how much it hurt, she was going to wrest it away.

It might not be so bad. Maybe he was right. Maybe secretly, she craved the pain.