Page 15
Story: Billionaire Wolf Needs a Writer (My Grumpy Werewolf Boss #7)
ARIEL
The helicopter blades thundered overhead as we lifted higher into the sky.
I pressed my palm to the window and watched as Huntington Harbor shrank below us like a miniature model city.
When Sterling suggested that we flee the media circus and Violet’s threats by taking a vacation, I jumped at the chance.
Except, I never factored in the fact that I had never been on an airplane before, much less a helicopter.
Sterling’s hand tightened around mine. His thumb brushed against my knuckles. “Breathe.” His command cut through the rotor’s roar like a knife.
Outside, the world transformed as we left the concrete jungle behind for jagged mountain peaks and the endless pine tree forests of Paradise Peaks.
The Hughes Hotel emerged like a mirage, its stone turrets and arched windows straight out of a Gothic romance.
This wasn’t just luxury. It was a fairy tale come to life.
The moment we touched down on the hotel’s private landing pad, I knew Sterling hadn’t just brought me to any resort.
A concierge team was waiting for us before the rotors had even stilled.
Their synchronized bowing was something out of a movie.
As they led us to the presidential suite, I gaped in awe at my surroundings.
Everything reeked of exclusivity and money.
The staff didn’t just greet Sterling, they catered to his exact demands.
The suite was impressive, an entire apartment with an unobstructed view of snowcapped peaks and the shimmering blue alpine lake at the foot of the mountains. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be staying in the same hotel as royalty and presidents.
Sterling watched with an amused expression as I explored the suite, my fingers trailing over the imported Italian marble surfaces and hand-embroidered silk curtains. When I walked into the bedroom, I stopped and stared at the package in the middle of the king-sized bed.
The gift waited like a promise wrapped in shimmering silver paper.
Carefully, I unwrapped the present without tearing the paper.
Inside, was a bound notebook with a buttery-soft tawny leather cover and thick creamy pages that felt like fabric.
Next to the notebook was a slender black box that contained a silver fountain pen.
My breath caught in my throat and my eyes grew wet when I noticed my initials etched along the barrel.
This gift was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me.
Sterling had noticed and remembered all the times I complained about the cheap dollar-store spiral notebooks I used.
They were perfectly fine for jotting down notes and book ideas, but it always felt wrong to keep my journal in something disposable.
I could never justify spending more for something better, no matter how much I had always wanted a proper journal.
But now, I had something worthy of my private thoughts. “Sterling, I don’t know what to say,” I breathed out.
He watched me from the doorway, all casual indifference, but his soft eyes revealed the truth. “You said your old one was falling apart.”
Even among the chaos and danger surrounding us, he took the time to find something that was perfectly me. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
That night we went downstairs to the hotel’s Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner.
After we had savored every morsel of the exquisite truffle tortellini and sipped wine that was older than me, we found ourselves drawn to the warmth of the crackling fireplace in our room.
The vintage Barolo had left us both pleasantly relaxed.
Sterling sprawled across the plush leather sofa first, his long legs stretching toward the hearth, while I curled up against his side. The flames danced hypnotically in the grate, casting an amber glow throughout the dimly lit room.
As the fire crackled and popped, I found myself mesmerized by the way the golden light played across Sterling’s features.
The fire highlighted the strong line of his jaw, the gentle curve of his lips, and most notably, the thin white scar that traced from just below his collarbone down the side of his ribs.
The dancing flames painted ever-changing shadows across that familiar mark, a permanent reminder of his nightmarish childhood.
I reached out with tentative fingers to touch the raised flesh. My fingertips followed the raised line of scar tissue, feeling the slight roughness where the skin had healed imperfectly all those years ago.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
I hesitated. “That I wish I could take away your pain.”
Sterling’s throat worked as he swallowed hard, his amber eyes darkening with raw emotion. “You have,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “God, Ariel, you have no idea what you’ve done to me.”
His large hands framed my face. “The mate bond has filled the constant aching hole that I’d carried for so long I thought it was just part of who I was.
” A tremor ran through his powerful frame.
“But you. Fuck. You filled every broken part of me with light. It’s like I can finally breathe without it hurting. ”
It couldn’t have been easy for someone like Sterling to bear his heart.
That made his confession all the more touching.
I rose to my knees and pressed my lips to his.
The kiss was soft at first, a gentle promise, but Sterling groaned low in his throat and yanked me across his lap.
His mouth moved against mine with desperate tenderness, pouring every emotion he couldn’t voice into this single point of connection.
Through the bond, a warm comforting sensation filled my chest. He was finally at peace.
The next morning, we got up early. Room service arrived with silver-domed trays, and we lingered over coffee and croissants, crumbs scattered across the white sheets. After we finished eating breakfast, Sterling suggested we go for a hike around the lake.
In the closet hung a new fleece-lined jacket, the tags still attached, alongside hiking trousers and boots in exactly my size.
The leather still smelled fresh from the box.
Sterling must have made a call during dinner last night.
A single message and the hotel anticipated our every need.
It was amazing the kind of service money could buy.
We walked in comfortable silence. The air smelled of frost and pine.
Each breath I took came out in a puff of steam.
But as we reached a rocky outcrop, the hairs on my neck stood up.
The forest had gone eerily quiet. The birds had stopped singing.
Not even the buzz of insects broke the silence.
Our footsteps seemed as loud as an exploding bomb in the stillness.
“Sterling,” I whispered. “Something’s wrong.”
He stopped, his body coiled tight as he scanned the tree line. “Stay close,” he muttered.
Then a twig snapped.
Sterling whirled, shoving me behind him just as Rafe stepped from the shadows. He wasn’t alone this time. A menacing group of men followed him. Wolf shifters, I realized, as their eyes glowed unnaturally.
Rafe’s sneer was all teeth. “Running away, brother? How unlike you.”
I clutched Sterling’s arm, my pulse hammering in my ears. Rafe looked worse than I remembered. His eyes were bloodshot and he moved with a twitchiness that put me on high alert. This was a wolf pushed too far.
Sterling’s voice was steel. “Last chance. Walk away.”
Rafe barked a laugh. “Or what? You’ll write me out of your little fairy tale?” His predatory gaze slid to me. “Though I do like your damsel. Maybe I’ll keep your bitch. After I break her.”
Something hot and fierce surged through me. I stepped forward, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my chest. “You’re pathetic.”
Rafe’s smile vanished. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you say to me, human?” he snarled.
“All growling and snapping because you’re jealous,” I continued, my voice rising. “Sterling built something an empire. You? You’ll always be your mommy’s little pet, too scared to think for yourself.”
Rafe’s roar was filled with inhuman rage.
His shift was instantaneous as he lunged.
So was Sterling’s. Before my eyes, he shifted into a massive black wolf with molten amber eyes.
He collided into Rafe with a crash. Claws swiped faster than I could follow.
Sterling’s powerful jaws locked around Rafe’s throat, but the other wolf twisted free, leaving behind only tufts of torn fur and the blood that dripped from Sterling’s snout.
Rafe’s answering strike caught Sterling across the ribs, claws carving deep furrows that had him snarling in pain and fury.
They circled each other now, hackles raised, lips peeled back to reveal razor-sharp canines. When they clashed again, it was with the devastating force of two freight trains, all snapping teeth and slashing claws, each determined to tear the other apart.
I didn’t hesitate, knowing I had to help Sterling in any way I could.
I grabbed a sturdy fallen branch and recalled the self-defense training.
As one of the wolf shifters broke around Sterling and lunged at me, I swung the branch with all my might.
It connected with a sickening crack, sending the wolf sprawling.
Another shifter, this one still in human form but with eyes glowing yellow, charged at me.
I ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as his fist missed my face by inches.
I drove the end of the branch into his stomach, using the momentum to knock him off balance.
He stumbled, giving me enough time to land a solid kick to his knee.
Sterling fought like a force of nature, his massive wolf form was a blur of fangs and fury. He took down one shifter after another, but they kept coming. I kept my back to a large tree trunk, using it as a makeshift shield while I fought off the remaining pack members.
As Sterling dispatched the last of the Nightfang pack members, Rafe made his move. I dashed forward, the branch still in hand, and swung at Rafe’s hindquarters just as he was about to make contact with Sterling. The branch knocked him off balance and gave Sterling the opening he needed.
Sterling pounced, his massive form colliding with Rafe’s in a brutal clash. The two wolves rolled and tumbled, their snarls echoing off the cliffs. I stumbled back, my heart pounding as I watched the ferocious battle unfold.
In a final, crushing move, Sterling surged forward, his powerful jaws clamping down on Rafe’s shoulder.
With a mighty heave, Sterling threw Rafe off the edge of the cliff.
Rafe’s howl of pain and rage echoed through the mountain air, fading into silence as he plummeted to his death at the bottom of the cliff.
The forest fell silent, but it roared louder than a scream. Only the distant rustle of leaves and Sterling’s heavy breathing, as he shifted back to his human form, could be heard. He stood at the cliff’s edge, his expression unreadable.
I approached cautiously. “Sterling.”
He didn’t turn, his gaze fixed on the abyss below. “I didn’t want it to come to this.”
“You didn’t have a choice. He would’ve killed us both.”
Sterling’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “I know, but he was still my brother.”
As the frenzy of the battle subsided, I felt a mix of exhaustion and relief. The adrenaline that had coursed through my veins began to fade, leaving me shaky.
Back in our suite, Sterling cleaned up while I sat by the fire, the leather-bound notebook untouched still.
The words still wouldn’t come, my mind replaying the events of the day.
But as Sterling emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and a fresh shirt clinging to his frame, I felt a sense of calm settle over me. He crossed the room and sat beside me.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.
I nodded. “Just processing.”
His gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You stood up to him, Ariel. You didn’t back down.”
I managed a small smile. “I had to. I couldn’t let him win.”
Sterling’s thumb brushed over my knuckles. “My fierce mate. You’re incredible, you know that?”
Heat crept into my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. “So are you.”
“What happens now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Sterling’s fingers traced idle patterns on my arm. “We go back. We finish what we started.”
I tilted my head to look at him. “And your family?”
His jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. “Violet won’t stop. Not after this. But I’m done running. I’ll face her. On my terms.”