Chapter - Lola

I've never been so thankful to be shifted. Our human forms are so much more emotional and indecisive and complex. Being my wolf is…peaceful, and moons know, I need that right now.

Because that touch.

A shiver racks my frame as Richard shifts in a flash of cracking muscles. His wolf emerges, swiveling his head to look at me. He's far larger than me in wolf form, his fur the same salt-and-pepper as his human form's hair. Those luminescent green eyes are as beautiful and piercing as ever. He stalks forward and rubs his cheek along mine, grumbling softly as he brushes his head and neck along my fur.

I don't think; I simply return the move as if we're the oldest of friends. But as the bar's front doors swing open again, I know we can't hide in here forever. I slap Richard with my tail before trotting toward the door. Rowan and another male stand there in wolf form, holding the door for us.

We jog into the moonlight, and the sight that greets me makes my heart skip with happiness. A huge group of wolves in every color mill around in the street with a few dozen centaurs. A handful of pegasi fly lazy circles above us. I've never been on a run with anyone but wolves. This feels…significant somehow. As if every resident of Shifter Hollow is so much a part of the pack, that even the other monsters run with us.

Richard stops beside me and lets out a howl to indicate the beginning of the run. Because this is such a big group, I wonder how often they do the pack run. We do a parade in Santa Alaya once a year because there are simply too many wolves to do a typical run. It's usually celebratory and done to commune with our goddess, Alaya. But it's also a way for our wolves to connect as a pack, to strengthen bonds with each other and our shifts.

Richard's Second, Connall, leads. He sprints up the street and into the pitch-black night. If this pack works like every other pack outside of Santa Alaya, Richard will be in the back, helping the pups, older wolves and any stragglers. His wolf looks over at me, green eyes luminescent in the night. He steps forward and snuffles my ear, scenting me as my wolf pauses, letting the pack alpha do whatever he wants.

And that's when I know I'll be at the back with him. I'm drawn to be by his side, to be there helping the young and old ones alike. To serve. To bring harmony.

I yip my excitement, and his wolf lets out a happy little chuffed response. We trot up the street after the pack, breaking into a lope as the clouds above us split, the moon's rays shining down in thick beams that spear the forest ahead.

Alaya is blessing us tonight, it seems.

The pack is silent save for the occasional thrilled yip or hoot. We run until we reach the glowing green wards that protect Ever from the outside human world. They form a bubble over the haven, like they do back home, although, I've only seen our wards a few times in my life.

At the ward wall, Connall leads us left, and we run and run and run under the moon. My wolf's bliss is palpable at being with this pack, at the nearly hundred bodies in front of us. The wolves run together, the centaurs galloping on swift hooves through the forest to our left. Hana leads that group, her mate Arkan at the back with another centaur who can only be his father—they look so similar. Above us, the pegasi flit gracefully through the trees, smiles on their faces as their beautiful wings beat the air.

Joy fills me at the connectedness of such a run. And, goddess, do we run. We run for almost an hour before the pups in front of us begin to slow. Richard and I nudge their tails, urging them on. They pick up the pace for a solid twenty minutes before flagging again. The youngest of pups typically remain with their parents, but the young children run at the very back in a group together—a move designed to bond the next generation.

One of the pups stumbles over a tree root and yips, tumbling into a pile as another falls on top of him. The pack continues on but Richard and I stop, sniffing at the pups to determine they're fine, just tired and getting sloppy. The pup who fell whines and flops onto his back, showing Richard his neck and tummy.

Richard's wolf nuzzles the exposed belly before growling at the pup to roll over. When he does, Richard picks him up gently by the scruff and glances at the second one. The pup jogs forward, but he's limping from the fall.

Without thinking, I pick him carefully up in my jaws and take my spot next to Richard. His wolf's green eyes flash at me, and then he's off again, sprinting through beautiful, twisty dark forest. We come to an old vintage-styled gas station with a highway that leads out of the wards. Ah, that must be how newcomers arrive if they don't portal in.

And then it's another solid hour of running, around a motel run by wraiths—the chill from their aura is tangible over my fur as we pass. I shudder as we round the forest outside the property itself. I've stayed at a wraith motel before, and I did not enjoy it. It feels wrong to be surrounded by the spirits of those who are long gone from their mortal flesh.

Eventually we round a beautiful glassy lake, and then it's another short half hour until the now-familiar sights and scents of Shifter Hollow come into view. The silent pup in my mouth begins to wriggle when we get close. When a big white wolf circles back around and chuffs a thanks at me, I drop the young one. He runs over to her and she picks him up and carries him off into the trees.

Richard's pup begins to wiggle and yowl once we reach Shifter Hollow's main road. Richard sets him gently down, and he runs off into the milling group. Slowly but surely, the crowd dissipates as we watch. The pegasi disappear up into the treetops and the centaurs canter off in a herd.

Connall breaks off from the group and stalks through Bad Axe's front doors when she swings them wide for us.

We follow, reentering the bar and heading for the table where we left our clothes earlier tonight.

Connall shifts first, grabbing his clothing and throwing it over his broad shoulders. "Good run tonight. Thanks for your help, Lola."

I shift back to human form and nod, stretching against the well-used soreness of my muscles. "That was so fun. We don't do traditional pack runs in Santa Alaya, and even when we do, it's mostly through the town at a very slow pace. This was…invigorating."

Connall laughs softly. "We do a lot of things differently, I suspect."

Richard shifts and groans. "Damnit, I have no idea where my clothes ended up."

Connall snorts and gives his alpha a fake salute. "I'll leave you to sort that out. If you don't need anything else, I'm gonna head home."

"All good," Richard says. "I'll be at Leighton's parents' place in the morning with breakfast, if you want to go with me."

Connall nods. "I'll meet you there." Green eyes flash to me and wrinkle in the corners as he smiles. "Night, Lola."

I wave goodbye as he turns to go. When the doors swing shut behind him, I realize that Richard is sitting on the edge of a table, staring at me.

"What are you thinking about?" His deep, rumbly voice breaks through my thoughts.

I turn to face him. "I was thinking that I love how Connall calls me my name, and not my title." I glance around the empty bar. "Nobody here seems to care that I'm the princess, and I find that very refreshing."

Richard shrugs. "We care; we just don't care care, if you know what I mean." He jerks his head toward the ceiling. "I never can sleep after a run. Want to come up to my place and have a drink?"

Everything in me tightens at his words. He touched me earlier, and if people hadn't shown up, I don't know where he would have gone next. Is he hoping to do more of that now? I'm not sure, but I want to know with a longing so deep and painful, it nearly steals my breath.

Richard leans forward, bringing his mouth to my ear. "I'll take your shocked-looking silence as a yes." He says nothing else, his breath warm on my skin as I resist the urge to cock my head to the side and give him my neck.

My neck.

I've never shown a male my neck before. Goddess, I think Papá would have put a protective collar on me at birth if he could have. He beat the idea into me of protecting my neck from a claiming bite since I was a pup.

And here I am practically offering it to his oldest friend. After Papá sent me here to avoid another alpha forcing the very same thing.

I shrug that thought off like a wet blanket. I don't need that negativity.

Richard turns when I don't answer, stalking gracefully toward the front door as I stare at his powerful back, ass, and legs. Every inch of him is tattooed muscle. Even if I didn't know he was this pack's alpha, I'd know it from the supreme confidence that rolls off him with every step he takes.

At the exit, he pauses, glancing over his shoulder. "Coming, Lola?"

I grab my clothes pile and jog to catch up, sailing through the door when he holds it open for me. I'm well fucking aware that I'm still naked, but so is he. Maybe we'll stay that way, hang out in the buff like it's every day we chill without clothes on.

Richard stalks down the sidewalk toward the left, rounding the building and disappearing into a dark alleyway. I'm right behind him, sticking close. It's not that I'm afraid; it's that I want to be in this man's orbit—to scent him, be near him. Goddess knows I want to do more than that. I should be ashamed, maybe horrified, probably shocked. And I was for about twenty minutes the day I arrived. But I know my wolf, and Richard is the only male she has ever given a shit about. I can't ignore that.

The building bumps out at the back, a singular door visible at the end of the alley. Richard pulls it open and gestures me into a staircase that leads straight up to another door.

I turn in the darkness. "No centaur ramp?"

He thumps my nose. "It's on the other side, smarty pants. Every home in Shifter Hollow has a centaur- and pegasus-accessible entrance. Every bar, every business is built with our taller residents in mind. I insisted on that when we built this haven."

"Santa Alaya has done a lot to make things accessible, but we've always got room to improve," I admit. Our haven was originally designed by wolf shifters for wolf shifters, but one of the things my papá insisted on was upgrading our infrastructure to accommodate other monsters and those with different needs.

"I learned a lot from Marco's programs," Richard says, stepping past me to ascend the stairs. "Everything we designed here is based on what he did back home. Plus, we've got an accessibility council that meets once a year to determine if any improvements need to be made."

"Love that," I say softly. I wink up at him. "As long as you don't fuck with the food or the music or the candy or the coffee or any of the other wonderful things we have back home, you'll hear no argument from me."

Richard opens the single door at the top of the stairs and waves me through. "Never, sweetheart."

I flush with joy at the new moniker. I'll admit to not having a very deep understanding of my preferred kinks—I haven't had much chance to explore them—but pet names and praise appear to be among them, based on the wetness between my thighs.

Blushing, I enter the open space and sigh at how perfect it is. A flat glass wall frames the front of the space where the street is. It's set to transparent, but if it's like most other havens, Richard can set it to translucent or even solid wall depending on his wishes.

Two oversized sheepskin sofas face one another, extra chairs flanking them on either side. A rustic wooden table in the middle holds a decanter of amber liquid and six glasses around it. To my left, a black-and-white kitchen is just as masculine as the rest of the room. A rustic chandelier hangs from the angled ceiling, chunky beams adding to the maleness of Richard's home.

He moves into the kitchen—still naked—and hunts around in the dark cabinets for something. I turn to continue admiring the beautiful surroundings.

"This is exactly what I'd picture a pack alpha's home looking like," I murmur, more to myself than anything, but Richard laughs from across the room.

"The nice thing about being an eternal bachelor is that nobody has opinions on the lack of pillows on my sofa."

When I glance over to see if he's serious, he's grinning at me with a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. "How do you feel about merlot?"

I cross the room and slide onto one of the metal and wood barstools. "Merlot is perfect."

Richard sets the glasses down and spreads the fingers of one hand wide. As I watch, long wolf nails slip out of the tips. He grins at me as he digs one into the cork, twisting the bottle with his other hand. All it does is accentuate the stacked, corded muscles of his forearms, biceps, and shoulders.

I watch in utter silence, past the point of caring if I'm staring at him. He invited me here—STILL NAKED—and now we're drinking. When he slides the half-full glass across the table, I take it and swirl it slowly under my nose.

My wolf has been at the forefront of my consciousness since Richard asked us up here. Like every time we're near him, he's her focus. She seems completely unconcerned about Papá and what's going on back home. She hasn't even been pushing me to play my guitar. It's all Richard right now.

Richard and the sweet notes of the merlot he handed me. He leans over the kitchen island countertop and takes a slow sip from his glass. His throat bobs as he swallows, drawing my eye there.

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him that he's beautiful, that I'm entranced by the energy between us, that I want to know everything about him. Every single thing. I want to hear about every moment of his entire life just so I can be aware of him.

He can probably tell by the scent dripping from me, but if he can, he doesn't point it out. He stands before I can formulate the words, holding his hand out to me. I rise and take it, a lump forming in my throat when he turns and pulls me toward a dark hallway. For half a second, I think we're going to his bedroom, and a shiver runs down my spine. But as soon as we enter the hall, he takes an immediate right and leads me up a skinny set of rough-edge wooden stairs.

Moments later, we emerge on a small rectangular rooftop patio. We're encased in treetops; no other homes or even the street below are visible. Above us, stars wink playfully through the translucent ward.

A giant puffy beanbag sort of chair sits in the middle of the platform. Skinny wooden tables run around it, forming a half-moon shape with the beanbag in the middle. Honestly, it's huge.

Like a nest.

I've only built a few heat nests in my life. My heat isn't predictable or frequent like some omegas. But this oversized, puffy bed-like structure that's big enough for five people? I'd nest the shit outta that thing. I can almost picture it now—mood lighting, candles, plenty of toys…this perfect alpha with his fangs buried in my throat, marking me, claiming me, taking everything.

While I'm silently admiring it, Richard sets his wine down and leaps gracefully in, flipping onto his back. He hums happily as his body sinks, supported fully by whatever the nest is made out of. He grins and pats a spot next to him as I struggle not to stare at his dick.

I've caught a few glimpses, but we weren't alone, and I couldn't stare. Even now, should I?

"Come here."

Richard's command hits me with all the power of a pack alpha's directive. It's like he can reach into my body and pull me toward him on an invisible tether. Without conscious thought, I set my wine down and crawl in next to him—not touching, but close enough that his sunshiny scent fills my nostrils.

My eyes drift over his body, the hard planes and lines of him. His chest is covered in tattoos—compasses, north stars, pine trees, wolves. If there's a shifter-themed tattoo, it can be found somewhere on his upper body. But even the dark ink can't hide the dips and valleys of thick, packed-on muscle. His chest is broad, coated with a fine dusting of dark hair. His abs are outlined in detail, a muscular vee leading down his belly like a damn homing beacon.

"You're staring, omega." Richard's wolf is present in his voice, and when I look up, his eyes flash green. "I know you've seen naked alphas before."

A flash of heat runs through me. "Of course." But they weren't you, I want to add.

He stretches both arms above his head, tucking his hands behind his neck. "I spoke to your father before the challenge. Nothing new at home."

Papá…riiiiight.

I flop onto my back next to Richard, sighing as I sink into the comfortable surface. "Yeah, I spoke with him earlier today as well. Sounds like I'm here for the foreseeable future, until he feels comfortable bringing me home." Then it's back to my typical grind.

Do I sound bitter?

Richard rolls onto his right side, propping his head up with one hand. "You sound bitter, omega. Talk to me."

I roll to my left, matching his position as I shake my head. "I'm bitter about being a political pawn, about having to think about the repercussions for my father of every step in my life. I am bitter, at least a little bit. I don't know what it feels like to be free of the pressures of our court."

Damn, I really laid it all out there.

Richard is quiet for a moment. "When your mother was alive, Marco was different. She was like you—artistic, creative, kind, wise. She never really cared about climbing the political ladder. Marco was always more interested in it. But when they were newly mated, he didn't focus on it so much."

This is news to me. I scratch at the space between us, my fingers needing to do something to dispel a sudden need to know every single thing about my mother that Richard can tell me.

He smiles as if he can read all of that in my expression. "Your mother tempered him. She was the peace to counter his supreme dominance."

I pick at the beanbag's fuzzy surface. "It's hard to imagine that since I don't remember her."

Richard shakes his head. "When Maria died, Marco lost all appetite for the things she loved. I think it hurt him too much, the memory of her. So he threw himself into politics, rising fast. By the time he became king, I hardly recognized the pup I grew up with." He looks at me with a remorseful expression. "He's a great alpha, but losing your mother broke something in him that he's never taken the time to heal. Which is why he's so cautious with you. And I suspect why he tries to keep you from the music. She loved it like you do."

I grit my jaw at hearing my father described this way. I've gleaned most of this from living with him my entire life. I knew Mamá loved music too. "He doesn't really talk about her," I admit.

Richard reaches out and places his hand over mine, his palm warm and comforting. "What do you want to know, Lola? I knew Maria well, and I'd be honored to talk about her."

Tears fill my eyes. Papá never wants to discuss her for more than a moment. What do I want to know? Suddenly, I can't think of a single thing. My mind's gone blank, too filled with processing emotion to consider what I could learn from Richard about her. Not to mention the weirdness surrounding the fact that the male in front of me, the male I'm lusting after, was friends with my parents before I ever existed.

"Another time," I whisper.

"Alright," he rumbles, the luminescent green from his eyes fading.

Come back, I want to shout. Let me see you.

But his wolf has gone, probably leaving because emotional chatter isn't really their thing. Our wolves are pure instinct.

"Your wolf disappeared," I tease. "Guess he's not really into feelings and moms."

Richard groans and removes his hand from mine to rub at his chest. "I've got to go see Arkan's father, Vikand, soon. I've never felt so disconnected from my wolf."

Sorrow fills me for him. I can't imagine that.

"He speaks to me," Richard says softly.

I stare in shock. "Hearing your wolf is supposed to be the highest level of connection shifters can have. I've only ever known a few shifters who could do that."

Richard's eyes shift to the stars as he considers my confusion. After a minute, they drift back to me. "Turns out Big Daddy and I don't agree on much."

It takes a moment for what he said to sink in, and then a hilarious cackle leaves my mouth. It turns into a snort, and then his eyes flash green again as his wolf reappears.

Between giggles, I manage a word or two. "His name…is…Big Daddy?" I roll onto my back to laugh as Richard starts growling, an unhappy noise threaded with his wolf's deep rumble.

"Don't laugh; I'm serious," he whines. "It's a problem!"

That sends me further over the edge until I'm full-on cackling, tears streaming from my eyes. "That is the least serious name I've ever heard!" I snort again, unable to keep it down. "I thought those lucky few who got to talk to their wolves got names like Grey Swiftwind and shit like that."

Richard lets out an otherworldly growl, and that's when everything goes sideways. One moment, he's on his side grousing at my reaction. The next, his enormous body is on top of mine, my wrists in his hands and yanked above my head. His face is inches from me, lips drawn back to reveal twin fangs. He's hot, so incredibly hot, his skin searing mine like a flame. His hips roll, his hard cock resting against my thigh.

Everything in me tightens, pulse racing as I stare up at him. His eyes are full green, glowing as if lit from within. Some deeply innate sense I have tells me I pushed him, but not too far. No. I think he could do with a little more.

"Hey, Big Daddy," I murmur. "Nice to officially meet you. It's kind of a mouthful, though. Is there a shorter version of your name? Maybe…BD or, I dunno, Daddy?"

A ripped snarl raises the hair on the back of my neck, my breasts rubbing against Richard's perfect, broad chest. His mouth is so close to mine, our breathing rough and heavy, our bodies pressed together.

"Alpha," he commands. "What you call me should only be ‘Alpha.' Say it with me, omega."

I force back a smile. "Yes, Alpha Daddy."

He releases one of my wrists and threads his fingers through my hair, yanking my head back so hard, I yip. The move forces me to expose my neck, his breath warm on it. Fluttery tingles radiate out from my core, my body clenching and tightening at his dominance.

The next wolfy growl pebbles my nipples as I hang on the precipice of desperation. I need a touch, any touch—his tongue, his lips, those damn teeth.

I don't get any of that, though.

Instead, something else happens.

My scent. It blooms and soaks the air with pheromones as I perfume for him. I can't control it any more now than I could earlier when he and Rowan fought. It's a natural response, but the moment it happens, he lets out a ragged groan, dipping lower until his mouth brushes my neck.

"That fucking scent," he murmurs, his voice roughshod.

His words drive me to the point of no return, energy building along my skin as I arch into his frame. "Please, Alpha."

Soft lips hint at brushing my neck. "Please what?"

I can't voice what I need. I'm throwing every possible signal at him. Is he going to make me say it?

Richard releases my hair, returning my gaze to his. Big Daddy's green shows through as I reach up and stroke my fingers down the bridge of his nose.

His eyes scan my face. I'm not sure what he's looking for, but I can't take this heat any longer. Propping myself up on my elbows, I lift my chin and brush my lips across his, just a taste, just a tease. Richard hovers frozen above me, eyes flashing wide as I do it again, nipping slowly at his plump lower lip. For a moment, I see him war with unnamed emotion even as Big Daddy's green burns brighter.

His lips open, and I close my eyes to wait for the maelstrom to unleash.

But…it doesn't come.

Richard lifts off me and off the beanbag completely, rising to a stand as he runs his fingers through his hair, staring at me like he doesn't know me.

The shock of what I just did and the sting of his rejection hit me all at once. For a moment, I lie there, chest heaving, staring at him as he stares at me. There's an entire chasm of unspoken things between us, but the only thing I can focus on is the fact that he pulled away.

He pulled away.

It's so wrong and horrible, I could cry. So, I do what any sane omega would do when rejected…

I run.

I run down the stairs and across his beautiful home to the exit. And then I shift into my wolf to stop feeling so very much.