Page 3 of Axel (Belles & Bratva Beasts #2)

“For his daughter’s best friend?” Sire smirks. For a pastor, he’s quite the devil. “Yeah, we all know who Nash really wants, but he owes me and Wren. He needs to put his heart aside and put his dick?—”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t paint me a picture.”

Some of my brothers, like Sire and Grant, get off on sharing queens.

Some of us, like Nash, Nick, and I, do not.

Loch’s not allowed, and Jace puzzles me.

He used to love sharing women with Grant, but lately, he’s abstinent unless it’s a ritual.

Regardless, we meet our obligations to our queens, and Nash will meet his.

“We’ll initiate Wren, and then she’s all yours.” I insist, “I want a niece or a nephew in a year. Mom deserves her first grandchild.”

Sire winces. “Yeah, her first grandchild.”

“Alena is ours, but she’s not blood,” I remind him. I remind myself— she’s Nash’s daughter and certainly not mine . “And I fucked up my chance to be first, so now it’s yours.”

More ire twists my brother’s face.

Solemnly, he nods, and it’s odd; whenever the subject of my first queen comes up, Sire seethes like he feels my pain for me.

“In the meantime,” I tell him, “take this to Wren. She can mother some kittens.”

I lift the cat with my hands wedged under her forelegs, and Sire reaches to take her, but she hisses, her back claws swiping and scratching his inked hands.

“Alright. Alright.” Gently, he shoves the animal back to me. “She’s your pussy, not mine.”

“What the fuck am I going to do with a pregnant cat?”

“You still remember your way around pussies. Right?” The fucker smirks. “Figure it out.”

“Fuck you.”

I leave Sire laughing as he drives away, and I struggle with my arms full with an expectant animal I have no clue what to do with .

Once inside my home, with its dark wooden beams braced under historic, white plaster ceilings and creaking wide pine floors below, I aim upstairs to my bedroom.

“Here.” I set the cat on the foot of my bed, snarling, “Don’t have those fucking kittens on my white Frette linens.

” She purrs, staring up at me. “I’ll get you a goddamn litter box by the end of the day.

” Lazily, she circles a spot. “And I swear to God … if you sink your little claws into my duvet, I’ll put you under the neighbor’s porch. ”

Yes, I like fine linens and fashion. I was raised in an opulent Russian prison of a home until I was eleven. Then, we used my mother’s jewels and tenacity to rebuild our life here, and now, I spare no expense.

We give the money back to the victims we help and donate most of the rest, but we skim a little off the top for our services. You know, for operating expenses.

Suspiciously, I eye the cat as she curls into a golden fur ball at the foot of my bed, and I strip down, warning, “Don’t piss on my stuff. Deal?”

She closes her eyes.

“Hey!” She opens them. “Sparky, did you hear me?”

Yep, that’s her name, and she doesn’t listen. She wedges her nose under her foreleg like Shut up, asshole, and turn off the lights while I wait for the sun to rise.

It’s a little warm to zip on a grey hoodie with my black running shorts, but I like to sweat. Watching the time pass on my phone, I do my research on pregnant cats, then a nearby vet.

I’m not keeping this damn thing. She’ll have a new home by Monday.

At six twenty-three, my daily alarm goes off.

It’s stalking time.

With a final warning to Sparky not to fuck up my shit, I lock my door then gate, and aim toward my waiting place blocks away.

It’s behind a large oak in the park by the battery wall, braced against the wide river to the Atlantic beyond.

Shadows cloak my presence while runners and folks walking their dogs emerge, dotting the sidewalks.

Then, exactly where my stare is aimed at the fountain in Waterfront Park, Ruby appears.

Every time, she rips my breath away.

Every time, my heart pounds.

Every time, my cock awakens.

Was it lust at first sight with Ruby? Guilty. Was it love, too? I plead the fifth.

She thought I was interviewing her for a job as my paralegal, while I knew I was talking to my future wife.

A person knows when they meet their equal.

And a real man knows when she’s his soulmate, too.

God, she was beautiful.

From under the collar of her lilac dress, I could see the price tag. Making me suspect she couldn’t afford it and would return it?

But it was the way she proudly asserted her qualifications for the job. How she crossed her bare legs as I clocked a rivulet of blood drying on her scraped kneecap. Did she trip and fall in her high heels on the way to our interview? If so, it didn’t stop her.

No, she saw me note it, but she lifted her chin, looked me dead in the eye … and kept proclaiming her worth.

Damn, my heart started pounding as I licked my lips in recognition.

Ruby spoke like a queen.

Like my queen.

I couldn’t believe my luck that she had stumbled into my life.

That was months ago, and I can’t go a day without chasing her .

Why?

Maybe it’s love, but it’s one-sided. The woman loves to hate me. Honestly, I give her a shit-ton of reasons to.

It’s my plan. One day, her mad-at-me will ignite into madly in love with me. It’s the only way to catch a fiery woman like her.

So, yeah, it’s a chase. I lift my hood in case, for the first time, she spots me…

But as usual, she’s oblivious.

Ruby runs with earbuds in, her long auburn hair swishing behind her. Her curves tempt in those mint, high-waisted leggings and matching sports bra, making my cock swell as she darts past me.

Like a gazelle, she’s fast, navigating treacherous broken pavement, her luscious ass my target to follow.

I give her thirty seconds, and I do.

One day, I’ll let myself catch her, licking the sweat off her flesh, pinning her against a brick wall and…

Stop, you horny fuck. Running with a hard-on is hell.

We follow our routine—the same pace and route as locals walk their dogs, waving good morning, and she waves back. But I don’t.

I can’t draw attention. I always hide and never work alone, but for her?

Imagine my horror when I met Ruby and realized … I’m just like my father , a predator obsessed with a woman. I had to have her. I started stalking her. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but … fuck it.

She’s not my first woman, but she’s the only one who’s ever made me feel so base, so beastial. When I’m near her, instincts overwhelm me. To chase. To capture. To claim.

To love.

And the best part?

As I lurk down the block, hiding in a narrow alley, watching her. As she finishes her three-mile route. As she slows into a cool-down, nearing The Mercier Hotel. As the bellhop waves to her, admiring her ass— I’ll murder him for looking at my queen.

The best part is…

Ruby has no idea I’m stalking her.