CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

Standing before the vanity mirror as she slipped on her earring, Blair caught sight of Luke in the reflection as he entered the bedroom the next evening. In gray slacks and a blue shirt that matched the color of his eyes, he was so utterly edible her stomach did a little flip.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his gaze scanning her from head to toe, taking in the red dress and high-heeled strappy shoes that Elle had let her borrow since Blair hadn’t yet picked up the rest of her clothes. “But then, you always do.”

She smiled. “Thank you. You’re looking very handsome. My hormones are all in a tizzy right now.”

A low, wicked chuckle rumbled out of him as he curled his arms around her from behind, plastering his front to her back. “You ready to leave? The party will start soon, and we need to arrive before the guests.”

“I just have to slip on this other earring and then I’ll be ready.”

Nuzzling her neck, he lapped at her brand. “You don’t need to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, I’m …” She trailed off, not wanting to raise a subject that could spoil his mood.

His gaze darted back to hers. “You’re uneasy about something. I can sense it through our bond. What is it? Tell me.”

Both earrings now on, Blair turned in his arms. “There’s a chance my mother will turn up with every intention of ruining the party. She’ll know about it from Mitch. She won’t want it to go smoothly. And she’ll resent that it’s being thrown when she’s spent years trying to convince me that I’d never be fully welcomed by your pride.”

A hardness slid into his eyes. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“You always did your best not to let her antics succeed in causing drama. Did you really think that I wouldn’t do the same?”

He grunted, seeming disappointed that he couldn’t argue. “I know it’s possible that she’ll show, which is why I assigned two enforcers to guard the Tavern’s entrance. She won’t get past them, I can promise you that.”

Blair’s chest warmed. Really, she should have guessed he already had this covered. He always set out to ensure every ride went as smoothly as possible for her. “Thank you. I’m sorry she can be such a pain in the ass.”

“You’re not the one who needs to apologize.”

“No,” Blair agreed. “But she’ll never do it.”

“I don’t want or need an apology from her. I have what I want and need. You. That’s all that matters to me.”

Damn her chest warmed even more. He was going to turn her into such a girl.

“But I do regret that you don’t have the support of your parents. I had thought they’d eventually come round. Maybe one day they will.”

“I’m not holding my breath,” she muttered.

He gave her hips a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s get our asses to the Tavern. The sooner the party’s over with, the better.”

“Why?”

“Because seeing you in this dress only makes me want to strip it off your body so I can feast on every inch of you.”

Her lower stomach clenched, but she only said, “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” he echoed, his brow creasing.

“Kind of.”

He snapped his teeth at her cheek. “We’ll see if you still merely find it ‘interesting’ later.”

They walked hand in hand to the Tavern. Most of the pride’s celebrations took place there. It was also their local hangout and—being a bar, pool hall, and restaurant rolled into one—it had a little something for everyone.

Entering the Tavern, Blair was hit by the scents of leather and oiled wood. She glanced around. It hadn’t changed since she last came. Sports paraphernalia and widescreen TVs still hung on the brick walls. Bulky armchairs the same burgundy as the leather cushioned booths still dotted the space. There were also heavy tables, a small arcade area, a stage, and a row of pool tables.

The bartender, Gerard, stood behind the bar wiping glasses. The only other people present were the omegas—all of whom had organized the event. They were currently fussing over some of the decorations.

There were lots of decorations. Balloons, lanterns, garlands, votive candles, and cascading lights. The color scheme seemed to be silver, black, and champagne gold. A tinsel curtain had been attached to the wall behind the buffet table, and a balloon arch surrounded it while tissue pompoms and spiral swirls dangled from the ceiling above it.

Touched, Blair swallowed. They’d really gone all out. Maybe for her sake, maybe for Luke’s—it didn’t really matter either way to Blair. She was still grateful.

Spotting them, Bree smiled. “Hey.” She crossed to them and pulled Blair into a hug. “Love that dress.”

“Thanks,” said Blair. “Love the shoes.”

“They’re fabulous, aren’t they?” Bree gave Luke a quick once over, her nose wrinkling. “You’ll do.”

His brows flew up. “I’ll do?”

The omega snickered. “I’m kidding, you scrub up well.” Bree looked from him to Blair. “Right, everything’s in place. The DJ is ready, the karaoke machine has been dragged out—Elle insisted on it, so don’t blame me—and there’s enough food that there’ll be plenty even though we’ll have four wolverines in attendance. You two will position yourselves by the door so you can greet each person who enters.”

Blair nodded. To date, she’d met every member of the Olympus Pride at one point or another. But tonight, it would be different. She’d be meeting them as their Beta, not merely Luke’s mate.

If any were dubious about having her as Beta female, she hoped they hid it well. Not that she needed to feel she had anyone’s approval, let alone everyone’s—Blair didn’t seek validation from others. Also, she understood it would only be natural for some to have their doubts, given her age. But it would offend Luke, and she didn’t want that.

“Thank you for the effort and time you put into this,” Blair said to Bree.

The feline smiled, flapping her hand. “No thanks necessary. It’s only right that we welcome you to the pride in style. Let me formally introduce you to the other omegas before everyone else arrives.”

Luke watched as Bree called the small group over to them. His insides relaxed when the omegas were nothing but sweet and friendly toward his mate. He felt her restlessness begin to ease.

Blair might claim she wasn’t particularly nervous about the party itself, but he wasn’t convinced. He wondered if, on a subconscious level, Noelle’s dark whispers were now playing on Blair’s mind, making her expect negativity where there’d hopefully be none. After all, if someone told you something often enough, the concept could start to slip into your thoughts and muddle them.

Honestly, there were times he longed to throttle Noelle even as he understood her motivations. He knew about loss and grief. He knew that the death of someone close to you could make you overprotective of your other loved ones; could make you desperate to keep them close. Much of his need to cosset Blair admittedly stemmed from that. But whereas he worked to ensure that he didn’t subsequently smother Blair, Noelle quite simply didn’t allow herself to acknowledge that that was exactly what she was doing.

“Let’s go order some drinks,” said Luke, curling his hand around Blair’s arm.

Gerard gave her a small salute as they approached the bar. “Well if it isn’t our new Beta female,” he said, approval and acceptance radiating from him. He eyed Luke. “Man, you seem tense. It’s that dress she’s wearing, ain’t it? It’s giving you all sorts of ideas—none of which you can currently do anything about.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at the male’s teasing tone. “Don’t make me hurt you, Gerard.”

The guy chuckled and set his fists on the bar. “Well, what are you drinking? Lucky for you, Blair, you’re not subject to human laws so I can serve you alcohol even though you’re not yet twenty-one.”

“I’ll have a beer,” said Luke.

“Shot of whiskey, please,” she said.

Hearing the creak of hinges, Luke turned to see the Alphas stride into the Tavern with Bailey, Aspen, and Camden close behind. All five crossed to the bar. Hellos were quickly exchanged, and then the group ordered drinks of their own.

Tate’s gaze darted from Luke to Blair. “You both ready for this?”

She nodded. “I can’t lie, I’ll be glad when the greeting part is over. There’s only so many ways you can say ‘hi, nice to see you again’ before you simply sound repetitive.”

Gerard slid Luke’s beer and Blair’s whiskey across the scarred surface of the bar.

Luke handed her the glass. “Here.”

She knocked the contents back, downing it all in one gulp. “Much obliged.”

Havana’s brows inched up. “You can handle your whiskey.”

Blair shrugged. “My mother had a way of driving me to drink.”

Tate snickered. “I can imagine.”

Luke had no sooner finished his beer than the guests began to arrive. He and Blair took up a position near the door as planned. There were nods, handshakes, hugs, and cheek-kisses. Aside from a stiff and awkward Finley, they were all friendly toward his mate. Some were a touch reserved, though. He made a mental note of who they were, intending to keep an eye on the situation.

If it wouldn’t undermine her strength, he’d do more than monitor things. He’d fight every battle for her. Then again … she’d likely throat punch him for that, so maybe not.

The evening quickly turned rowdy as drinks flowed and the DJ took things up a notch. People danced, laughed, mingled, and descended on the buffet.

He and Blair ended up gathering near the long bar with the Alphas, Aspen, Bailey, Camden, Deke, and Elle.

At one point, Blair leaned into Luke and said, “Damian’s girlfriend is so cute. They look good together. And very loved up.”

Luke settled his hand in the crook of her neck. “I think it’s more serious than they let on,” he said, swiping his thumb over the petal soft skin of her nape.

“Which is a problem,” Elle commented with a sigh.

Blair frowned. “Why?”

“Mating him would only lead to her doom.” Elle scratched her temple. “I don’t know how to break it to her that she’s dating the Antichrist.”

Luke shook his head. “You’ve got to drop that sometime and learn to get along with him.”

Elle did a slow blink. “I’m supposed to get along with the bringer of the apocalypse? The instrument of our destruction? The creature who feeds on my pain and anguish?”

“Well, yeah,” said Tate. “Luke fed on mine, but I made my peace with him.”

Luke’s brow knitted. “Are you shitting me?”

Tate cocked his head. “Did you not repeatedly injure, scar, and attempt to kill me when we were kids?”

“It was a two-way street,” Luke insisted. “You were far more of a bastard to me than I was to you. Remember the time you tried to make me drink turpentine?”

“You shoved me in front of a bus.”

“It was idling at the curb. And I only did that because—”

“Hey, isn’t that Mitch and his mate?” asked Elle.

Blair tracked the redhead’s gaze, and she felt a smile split her lips. “It is.” She hadn’t been so sure they’d come, suspecting that Noelle might make them feel guilty for doing so. “You’re here,” she said as the two bush dogs approached.

Mitch’s brow creased. “Of course we’re here. We told you we would be.”

Delighted, she hugged them both. They said their hellos to Luke, who then introduced them to the others. Greetings were exchanged, and drinks for the newcomers were ordered.

“Wow,” said Kiesha, scanning the space. “The pride’s bigger than I thought.”

“It’s predominantly made up of pallas cats,” said Blair. “But there’s a small bunch of other breeds.”

Mitch put his hand on Blair’s shoulder. “They’re being good to you, right?” His scowl made it clear that he’d cut a bitch up if the answer was no.

“They are,” Blair assured him, deciding that Finley simply didn’t count. “Luke would tolerate nothing else.”

“Pool,” Bailey suddenly declared. “We should play pool. Who’s up for it?”

Several were, including Luke, so they all migrated to one of the pool tables. Blair was happily ogling her mate’s ass as he bent over to aim his cue when Kiesha leaned into her.

“Have you had anymore contact from … you know who?” the female bush dog asked, her voice too low to carry to the others.

“Nope, I haven’t heard a peep from him,” replied Blair. “I told Mitch that over the phone yesterday. Didn’t he mention it?”

“Yeah, but I wondered if there’d been any activity between the phone call and now.”

“No, none at all.”

“Good. Then we’ll drop the subject so you can enjoy your party. Plus, I gotta ask … Who is that woman over there staring at you?”

Blair followed Kiesha’s gaze, almost snorting when Finley quickly looked away. “Ah, that would be the enforcer I told you about who thinks she should be Beta female.”

“Oh,” said Kiesha, drawing out the word, a dark note to her tone. “Can we play with her a little?”

“It’s on my schedule. Because it doesn’t seem like she intends to heed the warning I gave her.” Finley had been civil on arriving at the party, but not deferential—silently communicating that she hadn’t accepted Blair as Beta.

“She’ll soon regret testing you,” said Kiesha before taking a sip of her Cosmo. “You know, she’s not the only one who keeps firing looks your way.”

Yeah, Blair had noticed. “Don’t tell Mitch, but not everyone is sold on me.”

Kiesha’s brows snapped together. “Why not? Is it just because you’re a bush dog?”

“Is what because she’s a bush dog?” asked Bailey, appearing at Blair’s other side with Havana and Aspen in tow. “Something wrong?”

“Blair keeps getting weird looks,” explained Kiesha. “Not bad looks, just … well, I don’t like it.”

Blair sighed. “They’re not convinced that an eighteen year old can handle the role of Beta female.” Personally, she was just glad that the only enforcer with that attitude was Finley.

Bailey scoffed. “What does age even matter? In truth, you could be ninety-five.”

Blair felt a frown tug at her brow. “No, I really couldn’t be.”

Bailey placed one hand on her hip. “Who says our age should be truly decided by how many times we’ve orbited a glowing, spinning, hot sphere of gas?”

“Scientists,” replied Deke, coming up behind the mamba.

Bailey spared him the briefest glance. “They say all kinds of shit. Like, hey, we have nine planets. And then later they take it away like, no, there’s actually eight.” She sniffed. “I find science unreliable. And boring.”

“Probably because you don’t care for logic,” said Deke.

“You could be right, Eye Candy.”

“My name is Deke.”

“So?”

He ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring.

Tilting her head, Aspen looked from Blair to Kiesha. “Is it true that bush dog shifters eat snakes?”

“Yup,” replied Kiesha.

“Even venomous ones?” asked Havana.

Blair nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Aspen’s brow pinched. “But … your bodies can’t neutralize snake venom, right?”

“Right,” Blair confirmed. “I think that’s only a bearcat thing.”

Bailey’s nose wrinkled. “So, how do you not, like, die?”

“We tend to sweat out the toxins,” said Blair. “Usually get a fever, too. We sometimes blackout for a few minutes as well, though that’s rare. But we’re fine after an hour or so.”

Luke sidled up to Blair, a beer bottle in hand. “What are we talking about over here?” He guzzled back some of his drink.

“Butt plugs,” replied Blair.

He choked on his beer and coughed. “That was mean.”

She grinned. “Totally.”

Camden materialized and passed a fruity cocktail to Aspen, who thanked him with a sweet smile.

Bailey frowned at him. “You didn’t get any of us drinks?”

Camden’s brow furrowed. “Why would I?”

The mamba folded her arms. “Oh, I don’t know, to be polite.”

“He’s a tiger,” said Havana. “He doesn’t do ‘polite.’ Neither do you. And what does it matter? You have a drink on the table over there.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” said Bailey.

Aspen’s brow creased. “You don’t care about principles. You have none.”

“Not seeing what that has to do with anything,” said Bailey.

Camden grunted at her. “Be grateful for what I do give you.”

The mamba blinked. “Which is what?”

“The honor of breathing my mate’s air,” he replied.

Bailey snickered. “It’s cute how much you hate sharing her.”

“How is it cute?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t question these things.”

Blair shook her head, her mouth quirking.

More time passed as they drank, ate, played pool, and even danced.

Later on, as she and Kiesha were heading to the restrooms, Blair silently swore at the scene they came upon. Two females were up in each other’s space, pointing and cursing and engaging in a plentiful amount of colorful smack talk. Words like “whore,” “slut,” and “skank” were being thrown around.

From what Blair could gather, they were each competing for the same dude and neither liked that the other wouldn’t back off. This wasn’t the first time she’d caught them arguing over the years. Rhonda and Lucille simply didn’t get along.

“This ain’t gonna end well,” Kiesha predicted as the two women went nose to nose.

Blair’s inner female stiffened as Finley came into view, walking toward the arguing women with a mask of determination etched into her face.

Catching sight of Blair, Finley slowed. A calculating glint entered her gaze as she said, “I was going to step in but as you’re here, well, I’m assuming you want to handle it.” She folded her arms, clearly fighting a smirk.

“Ooh, she thinks she’s setting you up to fail,” said Kiesha, her face hard. “We need to definitely play with her at some point.”

“We will. But first …” Blair stalked toward the arguing cats, who now looked mere seconds away from unsheathing their claws and taking swipes at each other. “All right, enough, break it up.”

They spared her the briefest of glances before going back to yelling at each other.

Her eyelid twitching, Blair licked her front teeth. “I can’t tell you how much I dislike repeating myself. Break. It. Up.”

They didn’t. In fact, they completely ignored her this time. Blair’s inner female snapped her teeth, slicing out her claws.

“What the hell’s going on?” asked a male voice from somewhere behind her. Isaiah.

Blair sighed. She’d hoped to take care of this without an audience—having Kiesha and Finley present was quite enough—but she suspected she’d soon have one. “Last warning,” she sang.

Lucille tossed her a sneer.

“Mind your own business, bitch,” snarled Rhonda, who then promptly went back to shouting at Lucille.

Blair coughed, annoyance clogging her throat. She really loathed being dismissed. Her equally affronted inner female demanded retribution. Oh, she could have it.

Blair flexed her fingers. And then dislocated the tip of one. Then another. And another.

The arguing began to ease off, but she continued. There were pops and clicks, followed by a loud crack as she dislocated her shoulder.

Lucille cringed away from her. “Oh my God, please stop!”

One hand covering her mouth, Rhonda gagged as she took in all the unnaturally angled bones. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

It wasn’t the first time Blair had garnered that reaction. “Now, if you’re quite finished letting down not only yourselves but our entire pride by disrespectfully engaging in a confrontation at a celebratory event, maybe we can have a little chat.” She began sliding joints back into place, enjoying the women’s winces and shudders. “Had you just stopped arguing when I told you to, you could have escaped this situation with a verbal slap on the wrist. But you didn’t do that, did you? In fact, Rhonda, you called me … What was it again?”

“A bitch,” Kiesha helpfully supplied, her voice cheery.

“Thank you, Kiesha, yes, that was it.”

Rhonda grimaced. “I was pissed at Lucille, and you just wouldn’t butt out.”

Blair took a slow step toward her. “I don’t have to butt out. In fact, what with my being the pride’s Beta, it’s the very last thing I should do. If you’d wanted to keep things private, perhaps you shouldn’t have caused a public scene. Just a thought.” Blair ate up her personal space. “And you really, really shouldn’t have called me a bitch.”

She snapped out her fist, catching Rhonda on the temple. The cat’s head whipped to the side, her eyes glazed over, and she hit the floor with a thud. Knowing she needed to make a statement, Blair delved into her purse, fished out a few items she kept for such occasions, and then got to work.

She wrote “dumb but pretty” on Rhonda’s forehead with a sharpie, wedged a tampon in each of the cat’s nostrils, and dipped a third tampon in a pot of stale crusty moisturizer, which she then stuck it into the side of Rhonda’s open mouth cigar-like.

Blair looked at Kiesha. “Gonna need some water.”

Her friend nodded and then hurried off.

Blair lifted her hand, unsheathed her claws, and then coated them with sanitizer gel. She didn’t look at the murmuring crowd, aware courtesy of her peripheral vision that some were snapping photos. Not one person addressed or approached her. Not even Luke. She knew he was there; sensed him watching; felt his amusement through their bond and … something else—a low buzz of arousal.

Kiesha reappeared. “Here ya go. I unscrewed the cap.”

Blair took the offered bottle. “Thank you.” She tipped water over Rhonda’s crotch, leaving a nice big stain in her jeans, and more photos were quickly taken by the crowd.

As expected, the pallas cat began to stir, her eyes fluttering open.

Blair squatted in front of her and smiled. “Hi, welcome back.” She shoved her sanitizer-coated claws into the cat’s thigh.

Rhonda arched with a loud cry, lines of pain streaking across her face.

“Stings like a mother, doesn’t it? Well, hearing you call me a bitch stung. Okay, not really. It’s not actually that easy to offend me. But it did piss me off nonetheless, and I can’t let your behavior go unaddressed. No Beta would.”

Tears welling in her eyes, Rhonda spat out the tampon, grimacing at the taste of the moisturizer. “I-I’m sorry,” she said, yanking the other tampons out of her nose.

Blair withdrew her claws. “I do hope that’s true, because it means we won’t have to go through this again. And Rhonda … round two would go much worse for you, just to be clear.” Blair slowly stood and turned to Lucille, who was gaping down at Rhonda, her face pale.

Lucille’s gaze flew back to Blair. “I didn’t call you names, I—”

“Sneered at me,” finished Blair. “I didn’t like that. I also don’t take kindly to being ignored. It’s a pet peeve of mine.”

“I’m sorry.” The apology bubbled out of Lucille as she lowered her eyes. “It won’t happen again.”

Blair tilted her head. “You know something? I believe you. I think you truly are sorry. So your punishment will be a little different. You’ll take Rhonda into the restroom and help her clean up. Yes, I know you would prefer to eat your own vomit than assist her with anything at all, but you’re gonna do exactly that. Or I make my point a whole other way.”

Lucille licked her lips. “I’ll help her.”

Valentina sauntered forward. “So you have some common sense, then. Perhaps there is hope for you.” She glared down at a sobbing Rhonda, who was putting pressure on her puncture marks. Valentina rolled her eyes. “Oh, get up, foolish woman. It is just little wound. You still live.”

“It’s the gel,” said Rhonda, her voice breaking. “It hurts so—”

“No more blubbering,” ordered Valentina. She closed her eyes. “Lord, I despise weakness. Someone get her up.”

Deke helped Rhonda stand and then passed her off to Lucille.

Bailey tossed an arm over Blair’s shoulders. “I think you and me are gonna get along amazingly well. I mean, we have so much in common. We like to mess with people. We like whiskey. We like vengeance … The list is endless.”

“Then why did it stop at three things?” asked Deke.

Bailey didn’t even glance at him. “You still here, Eye Candy?”

His eyelid twitched. “Must you keep calling me that?”

“Not really. But I will.”

Feeling the weight of Luke’s gaze, Blair looked his way. She sucked in a breath. His eyes were hot, hungry, and filled with promise, leaving her in no doubt of what was going to happen the moment they were alone.

Excitement burst to life in her stomach, and she shot him a little smile. The party couldn’t end soon enough.