Book 2 Not his Werewolf Read online

  When Ryota’s hands clasped on the file, Ken leaned in closer.

  “You better kill me first, because if you touch Betty, I’ll make sure it is the last thing you do.”

  The alpha’s eyes narrowed and lips parted as if to respond.

  Ken turned his back to him. Counting his steps, he made it past the threshold alive. Amazing. His alpha didn’t respond well to threats.

  Halfway down the hall, he heard the crash of dishes hitting the office door. Ryota must have flipped the table.

  Ken took the stairs to the floor below, which was reserved for him and his staff’s use. His assistant Benny watched the ceiling with wide eyes. Ryota’s office was above Ken’s. Benny was pack so he could clearly hear the alpha’s tantrum.

  Ken pulled out his wallet and handed Benny his credit card. “Order lunch for the staff. Today will be rough.”

  “You really pissed him off.” Benny was new to the area and still thought Ryota walked on water.

  The sound of wood cracking reached Ken’s ears. He hid a flinch. That table had been made of oak and weighed more than a car. “Better order dessert too.”

  Benny just nodded and blindly took the credit card. He eyed the space under his desk as if measuring if he could fit.

  “Don’t worry.” Ken patted the smaller shifter’s shoulder. As beta, protecting the pack was his priority. “He’ll bite me but just growl at everyone else. Just keep your gaze low if he comes in, and let him pass without question.”

  Ken entered his office and leaned against the door. Ryota had given him a home. One moment he’d been a little boy, the next a wolf cub chasing the social worker’s shoes. Ken was the son he’d never had. And he just threatened to kill him. Ken hung his head as the ceiling shook. With the amount of swearing that followed, the alpha must have punched a structure beam when he hit a wall.

  Why couldn’t his father be happy for him? He’d achieved a goal most shifters dreamed of. One Ryota hadn’t achieved himself. Maybe that was the sore spot. He’d found his soulmate before him.

  That was petty, but everything about being an alpha had to do with being the best. He’d had that hanging over his head for as long as he could remember.

  Ryota should be proud. Ken had finally outdone him.

  The noise above finally quieted. Ryota was either plotting his demise or eating food off the floor.

  Ken crossed the room and stared out the large windows. He hated to admit it, but Ryota had a point. If they accepted Betty as his soulmate, they’d be setting a precedent and other packs would object. Violently. He’d spend the rest of his short life fighting challenges to keep her safe.

  Everything had been so shiny and happy this morning. He wished he’d stayed trapped in that cage. Then she wouldn’t be in danger. How long before the other packs found out? With the internet, it would be hours. He rested his forehead against the window as Angie flew by.

  She paused at his window, like she usually did, and gave him a toothy smile. Unnerving but cute in a ‘don’t eat him’ kind of way. He was glad she found her happily forever with Eoin. To think, she hadn’t been able to shift either when they had met. They had all known she had a little shifter DNA in her, but it turned out she had been cursed. Now here she was flying around the city.

  No matter how much he wished for an easy solution, he knew Betty’s old pack must have done everything to teach her how to shift. He couldn’t imagine a pack slacking on those lessons. Every wolf made the pack stronger. Her failure to shift would have been devastating for all.

  Yet she pinged on his radar as a werewolf. The person that made his heart beat. A half-breed that couldn’t change shape shouldn’t be able to do that. He pushed away from the window and Angie, throwing himself into his leather chair.

  Fuck. How did he even approach the subject of shifting capabilities with Betty?

  Eyeing his office door, he willed Ryota to walk in and start a fight. Pounding on something sounded great, but he didn't have that luxury. He had a city council meeting to attend in an hour and had to go over his charts once more.

  Their new project, the development of a shifter oriented neighborhood, rested in his hands. Many pack members had invested their savings into this idea and he represented them.

  Taking a deep cleansing breath, he focused on letting go of his troubles. The muscles in his shoulders unknotted and his wolf settled into the back of his mind.

  He picked through the stack of files on his desk. Real estate contracts that had recently gone through and needed managing. A name caught his eye.

  Almost Home Rescue.

  That was why it had sounded familiar. He had closed a real estate deal last week and bought the property from some sleaze bag. A copy of the eviction notice sat on the top of the paperwork. He read over the form and crumpled it. The knots were back, tight and hard, so was his animal.

  He had to kick Betty out of her home.

  Claws punctured through his fingertips, shredding the paper. Sharp teeth pierced his gums. No. He fought for calm. Inner peace, inner peace—

  Fur sprouted from his skin. A thousand needles threading out of his pores. He grimaced as his bones reset and elongated. He put on bulk as his muscles grew. Material tore.

  Oh, crap, his new suit.

  He stood at his desk, palms flat on the surface and caught his breath. Shredded pieces of material hung from his back. He yanked the remnants of his shirt off then tossed the rags into the corner with the remains of his shoes.

  Over his shoulder, a pair of big blue eyes watched him. Angie clung to his window. Her jaw hung open.

  “Seriously, don’t you have a business to run?” he shouted through the soundproof glass.

  She jerked and fell away, winging toward her salon, Scratch Your Itch, where Beth worked.

  He pressed the button on his desk phone. “Benny, reschedule my meeting with the city council.” He released his hold and strode to the closet. Inside, he found a robe and empty hangers.

  Dry cleaning day. Dammit. He instructed Benny to always leave a spare suit. He returned to his desk. “Benny, I need more than a robe to wear.”

  “Yes, beta. I'll fetch your suits right away.”

  Betty sat in the center of her bed, legs crossed, back straight, and eyes watering as she watched the tornado of estrogen invade her home.

  Trixie and her sister, Ruby, held dresses one at a time separating them into maybe and no piles.

  Moonie, their cousin, worked curlers into her hair. Their eccentric hippy friend would have made an excellent dungeon master during the Inquisition. No amount of complaining touched Moonie’s resolve to make Betty’s dark, heavy mass of hair into luxurious waves. She had no mercy.

  “You do realize that tugging on my hair won’t make it longer, right?” A tear spilled over her cheek. The skin on the edges of her hairline felt tight as a drum. She bet a quarter could bounce off her forehead.

  “Stop squirming and I won’t have to pull so hard.” Moonie spoke around the hairpins tucked between her lips. She was the oldest of the four of them but the wildest. The only time Betty had been arrested was when she’d gone dancing with Moonie on an unforgettable Saturday night.

  That was how she would describe Moonie. Unforgettable.

  Her friend dragged her long nails through Betty’s hair and clasped some strands in her sadistic claws. “Once I'm done with this mop you call hair, angels will stop to ask you who your hairdresser was.”

  Trixie waved a red scrap of silk in Betty’s face. “Wear this one.”

  “I'm not a stripper.” Betty grimaced as her hair roots groaned.

  “Hey.” Ruby shook her finger at Betty. “That's my favorite dress.”

  “Exactly,” Betty mumbled under her breath. There couldn't be two sisters more opposite. Ruby's motto was if it had a penis, she wanted to touch it. Trixie… Well, she was still a virgin.

  Ruby frowned at the pile of shoes. “Betty's feet are my size but her tastes run more towards a Catholic nun.” She rubbed
her chin and scooped up a pair of silver sling back shoes. “How about hooker heels with…” She pulled out a yellow dress that had a flowing skirt from the maybe pile. “Modest school teacher dress.”

  “Oh, naughty and nice.” Trixie clapped. “I like this look.”

  Moonie peered over Betty’s shoulder at the outfit. “I could put her hair up and she can borrow my glasses. It will make her seem more intelligent.”

  “I'm not role-playing his fantasies!” Betty dropped her head into her hands. She had lost control of her life in Ken’s shifter version of romantic swoop this morning. It had only avalanched from there.

  She lifted her gaze to the eviction notice taped to her mirror. With this hanging over her head, she just couldn’t get excited about her date. She couldn’t fix some things, but maybe after this date Ken would realize his mistake and leave her alone.

  Ruby set the outfit aside, crossed the small room and read the letter. “You've got to be kidding me. You too?”

  Betty’s spine straightened. “What do you mean?”

  “This corporation has been buying out buildings and businesses around this area. The bar I work at is closing its door because they are renovating the place.”

  “You’re losing your job?” Trixie sat on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t tell me this.”

  “Nah, it’s more like a layoff. I’m eligible for unemployment and I’ll have my job back once the place is open again.” Ruby fingered her jewelry box. “If you need a place to stay Betty, you can crash at my pad. I just can’t have pets.”

  “Thanks.” Nobody in their right mind would rent Betty a home with this many animals. “I wonder what they’re planning to do with the area.” The neighborhood could use an influx of new money and a facelift.

  She shrugged. “Probably upscale it. I heard they donated a ton of cash into the local police station. Maybe they’ll get rid of the seedy bars and put in coffee shops or boutiques. Maybe I should train to become a barista and give up on bartending.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. There’s nothing wrong with coffee.” She held out her empty cup. “Why don’t you practice?”

  Ruby rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll make a pot but you put on this outfit so we can judge your ass and make dirty suggestions.”

  “Careful with the rollers when you dress. You knock one out and I’ll have to start all over again.” Moonie followed Ruby to the kitchen.

  Trixie sat on the bed next to Betty. “Stop worrying. This can’t be fixed in one day. Who knows, maybe this Ken guy is Mr. Right after all and has a big mansion on the West River where all your animals can live.”

  “I doubt it. With my luck, he does have a mansion but is so in debt that the repo-man will arrive the day I move in and I’ll have to support Ken.” She undressed, careful not to mess the rollers. She didn’t want to face Moonie’s wrath.

  With Trixie’s help, she slipped on the dress Ruby had chosen with the heels.

  Wow, those were really high and her balance was not that great.

  Trixie aimed her at the full-length mirror that hung on her closet door.

  The woman in the reflection was stunning, even with curlers on her head. A stranger to Betty’s eyes. She blushed, shy to meet her own gaze. Dog drool and fur was more her style lately. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d gone on a date.

  “Perfect.” Trixie purred. “Now let’s work on make-up.”

  Chapter Eight

  The day dragged from project updates to staff meetings to vetting pack issues. Ken’s business suit felt too tight, his hunger unsatisfied, and his scalp itchy. At one point, he found poor Benny stress eating his way through a whole pizza. The tension between him and Ryota effected the whole office. Ken swore, while devouring lunch, that he saw the minute hand on the wall clock go backwards.

  He glanced at the torn copy of the eviction notice taped to the top of his computer monitor for the hundredth time. How would he fix this? He couldn’t stop thinking about the problem, but no matter how many laps his thoughts took around the issue, a solution evaded him.

  Fate didn’t want him to have Betty. He must have been a very bad wolf in a previous life to be punished thusly. Soulmates were a sure thing. It was why shifters desired them so badly. True love guaranteed. Who wouldn’t want that?

  Apparently, his soulmate. He kept picturing her face as she had handed him a glass of water when he’d awakened in the dog kennel. Have a rough night? That attitude, that sense of humor, even while taking care of his thirst. He was a goner.

  His jaw cracked with the mother of all yawns. He had had a rough night and a worse day, but he wouldn’t trade a second of it because that meant he wouldn’t have met Betty. All he had to do now was convince her they were meant for each other, evict her from her home, and keep his alpha from killing her.

  Ken rose from his desk and straightened his tie. Just another Monday, except it was Thursday.

  He pressed the Benny button on his desk to call his assistant. “I’m leaving for the day. Did you exchange cars with Beth?”

  “Yes, beta.” The shifter sounded wrung out.

  Ken grinned. “Did she give you a hard time again?” Being new to the pack, Benny was still figuring out his place within the ranks. Submissives and omegas took longer to figure out their relationships than dominants. Their more aggressive counterparts tended to just pound the shit out of each other to solve their problems.

  Humans had trouble understanding pack hierarchy and tended to think omegas were submissive wolves. There was nothing submissive in Beth. She was the heart of the pack by knowing how and when to open the release valves when the pack stress was high. She did it with social events, phone calls, or what Benny called social interventions. As a submissive, Benny didn’t care where he was in pack hierarchy. He just wanted help and Beth took advantage of it.

  She had resorted to torturing Benny with outrageous demands that his instincts wouldn’t allow him to deny. Benny was a giver. If Beth didn’t back off soon, Ken would need to step in.

  “Always. The car is parked in your spot.” Benny growled.

  Being submissive didn’t mean Benny wasn’t a fighter. It just meant he didn’t care about power. He would fight for pack, but didn’t want to lead. The younger wolf could bench press a Volkswagen filled with clowns, but then he’d set it carefully aside and help them out of the car, making sure each had a balloon. Not all wolves had killer instincts, otherwise they’d have all killed each other off. A pack had to be diverse to thrive. The weak balanced out the strong so they didn’t become serial killers. Benny was the ying to Ken’s yang.

  Maybe that was what Ryota needed. A yang to keep his ying from flipping tables. They could use a few more Bennies.

  “Beta?” His voice had an edge to it.

  “Thank you, Benny.” He grinned as he heard Benny growling under his breath through the wall.

  Taking the back stairs from his office, he avoided any further delays to his ultimate goal, his date with Miss Betty. He drove to Scratch Your Itch and parked illegally by the front door.

  Beth sat at the receptionist’s desk and quirked her eyebrow at his entrance. “Nice suit. Better than your other ones.”

  He glanced at his attire, having not paid any attention to what Benny had picked out. A chef wore an apron, a nurse wore scrubs, and a businessman wore a suit. It was just a uniform. “So I shouldn’t change for my date?” He had planned on jeans and a collared shirt.

  Angie stepped out of one of her scratching rooms, drying her hands with a towel. Hair cropped short and a wicked smile, she appeared relaxed for the first time since he’d met her. Mated life suited her. She assessed him from head to toe. “I heard the good news.”

  Beth offered an unapologetic smile. She had told everyone like Ryota had predicted.

  Angie adjusted his collar. “You smell nervous. You’re never nervous.” She chuckled. “Explains the explosion of fur I witnessed this morning.”

  “About that, is Eoin going to stop an
tagonizing Ryota? It’s putting strain on the pack.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “The Alpha needs a vacation.”

  “I’ll talk to Eoin.” She patted his cheek. “Don’t seduce her on the first date.”

  “Why not?” He’d been waiting all fucking day. If his skin got any tighter he’d bust a seam. He needed to touch her, smell her, taste her. Waiting sounded like death.

  “Don’t get all wolf shifter on me. You’ll destroy this nice suit as well.” She winked.

  “You’re a terrible friend. Seriously, where’s the support?” He had helped her when the dragon had been sniffing around her shop.

  Beth lifted a notepad from her desk. “Right here. All the details for your first romantic date.”

  “You let Beth plan your date?” Angie smacked the back of his head. “You’re supposed to do that.”

  “She offered and I had meetings all day.” He smoothed his ruffled hair. Did he have a smack my head sign on his back today? Beth, Ryota, and now Angie. Next person who hit him would lose fingers. “Beth is better at this stuff. I want everything to be perfect—romantic. Something Betty will remember forever.”

  Angie shook her head. “At least your heart is in the right place.”

  “Says the girl who picked muck out of a dragon’s scales for a week so you could hook up.”

  “He paid me!”

  “That’s supposed to make it better?” He liked how her face flushed red and smoke puffed out of her button nose.

  “It all worked out, all right?” She deflated in front of his eyes and he could almost see little heart-shaped bubbles popping around her head. “Are you going to the orphanage fund raiser this weekend?”

  “Of course. Ken’ichi Inc. is a sponsor this year.” He gave her a little bow.

  It had taken some serious footwork to pry the money out of Ryota’s claws. Without the orphanage, he and Angie wouldn’t have had a home after they had lost their parents. He didn’t even remember them, just vague emotions. He’d been abandoned at the orphanage as a baby. No note. No name. No history. That was why they had raised him as human those first few years. He would make sure the place was well-funded so future orphans had a home.