Page 39 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Miley

I’m two pages from the enemies finally becoming lovers when a knock sounds on my apartment door.

Rude.

Lowering my paperback with an annoyed huff, I glare toward the door like I can make whoever’s on the other side go away through sheer force of will, but of course I can’t be that lucky.

Another knock comes, and I toss my novel onto the coffee table with a heavy sigh, pushing up from the couch and stomping over to answer it.

Odds are, it’s Jordan– and if she’s interrupting my reading time, she’d better have brought sugary snacks.

Three more sharp, authoritative thuds sound at the door moments before I flip the lock and yank it open, my blood chilling in my veins when I meet the pair of cold grey eyes staring back at me from the other side.

Oh fuck.

I’m half tempted to drop to the ground and pretend I’m dead, but for some reason, I don’t think my father will be convinced.

So instead, I just stand there staring at him with my mouth hanging open for a long, torturous moment until I finally manage to get my bearings and step aside to allow him entry.

Because the only thing worse than an unexpected visit from Alpha is making him wait.

“Miles,” he greets in a clipped tone as he sweeps past me into the apartment, surveying the interior with the same eye he uses for boardroom takeovers and pack meetings .

My guard immediately slams up, heart beating out of rhythm as my mind spins to piece together what could have possibly brought him here.

The man never set foot in my last apartment– not once in the entire three years I lived there.

So, his sudden appearance at this one is more than a little unsettling.

Is he looking for some clue that this is all a lie?

Did we leave something lying around that could tip him off?

Or is this about what happened at the preserve yesterday…

My brain rapid-fires through a litany of worst-case-scenarios as Alpha strides into the living room, his disapproving gaze flicking over the rumpled blanket on the sofa and my romance novel tossed haphazardly on the coffee table.

Then he pivots back in my direction, and when those assessing eyes land on me, I feel fourteen again.

Awkward and braced for correction. I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep my composure, resisting the urge to smooth my hair or tuck in my t-shirt.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors,” I say dryly, which is code for you didn’t call, so what the hell do you want?

He nods once, a faint smile ghosting across his mouth. “Clearly.”

Dickhead.

“Ares isn’t here,” I add, assuming that’s who he’s really here to see since he’s never paid me a personal visit in the past.

“I know,” he replies, folding his arms over his chest. “I sent him on an errand. I wanted to speak with you privately.”

My pulse skitters. “Okay…”

He steps over to the couch, unbuttoning his suit jacket and dropping down in the center like he owns the place– which I guess technically, he does.

I move into the room and lower myself onto the far edge of the coffee table across from him, one foot planted on the floor and the other perched on the frame like I’m ready to bolt.

Let’s be honest, I totally am.

He sits with the confidence of a man who’s never been told no, leaning back with one ankle draped over his knee and his arms spread wide over the backs of the cushions.

His posture is casual, but everything about him radiates threat.

He could snap my neck with the single flick of a wrist, and both of us know it.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks, and the tension grows so thick that it’s hard to even breathe. Then, he finally says, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here. ”

I try to play it casual, inclining my chin and cocking my head to the side. “I assume you want something.”

He almost smiles again. Almost .

“You always were the sharp one,” he remarks, but I doubt he means that as a compliment. He swipes a hand over his chin, a frown pulling at his lips. “Ares is still refusing to submit for his procedure.”

My stomach lurches, but I school my features into neutral. “So?”

“So, I’d appreciate it if you could convince him to comply,” he replies, tone smooth as glass. “It would make things much easier for both of you. And the pack.”

There’s an implied ‘or else’ hanging between every word.

I look down, tracing a swirl on the wood grain with my thumb. “Things are different where he’s from,” I murmur. “He’s not… accustomed to the way we do things here.”

Alpha watches me for another beat, then exhales a shallow breath.

“I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here, do I?

” he asks, but of course, it’s rhetorical.

“Your absence at the last full moon ceremony caused quite a stir. There were whispers of pack members questioning your loyalty. Questioning my leadership.”

“And I’m sure you silenced them quickly and efficiently,” I mutter.

“Of course,” he quips, lifting his chin with pride. “But it’s imperative that this upcoming ceremony goes smoothly. For the good of the pack.”

For the good of him , he means.

“Absolutely,” I reply with a tight nod, the part of me that wants to survive doing exactly as it’s told, while the part of me that wants to flip him off and tell him where he can shove his pack politics dies a quick, silent death.

“And part of the ceremony going smoothly means conducting it as we always do, sealing the bond with our usual method for efficiency,” he tacks on.

“Understood,” I say, clasping my hands together to hide the tremble in them. Something about the energy radiating off him chills me to my core, my wolf pressing forward as my fight or flight instinct kicks in. “I’ll talk to him.”

He nods, evidently accepting my words as a victory.

“There will be a spotlight on you at the gala the night before the ceremony,” he continues, shifting gears without warning.

“You’ll need to make the rounds, remind the pack of your commitment to tradition.

You’ll be fitted for your dress this Saturday. ”

“I already picked one out,” I say.

I actually didn’t , but I can’t help but try to grasp for a little bit of control over something at this hellish event I’m being forced to endure.

He ignores that statement as if I didn’t even speak, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket with mechanical efficiency. “I expect you to discuss the procedure with Ares before the weekend, as we have him tentatively scheduled for Monday.”

“Okay,” I breathe, nodding numbly. “But I can’t guarantee that I’ll change his mind.”

He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re his mate . Surely he’ll want to do everything in his power to please you. If your bond is as strong as he makes it out to be, then you should have no trouble swaying him.”

“Right,” I mumble, nodding again. I feel like a damn bobblehead at this point.

Alpha’s heavy footsteps echo through the apartment as he starts for the door, pausing in the entryway to glance back at me. “Don’t disappoint me again,” he growls, the words scraping like claws down my spine. Then he leaves, the door shutting behind him with a soft, final click.

I just sit there frozen for a few minutes, perched on the edge of the coffee table and staring at the spot he vacated on the couch. My palms are sweaty, my heart’s beating a mile a minute, and all I want to do is scream into a pillow.

Instead, I pick up my book and read the sentence where I left off before he interrupted. The words blur for a second, but then I force myself to focus.

Because there’s nothing more satisfying than watching the enemies become lovers and burn it all down, just for each other.

By the time Ares gets home, I’ve reread the same chapter six times and still haven’t retained a single line. My hands keep trembling, so I’ve got them wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, hoping the sweetness will anchor me.

It doesn’t .

If anything, it tastes like anxiety.

I hear his key scrape in the lock, the sound jagged and too loud in the silence. Then he pushes the door open, stepping inside with a heavy sigh and kicking off his boots. He looks over at me, and as soon as our eyes meet, he goes eerily still.

“What’s wrong?” he growls, shoulders instantly bunching with tension.

I quickly avert my gaze, staring down at the mug in my hands. “Nothing. Just tired.”

For a second, I think I’ve gotten away with it. That I’m playing it cool enough to throw him off the scent. But this is Ares we’re talking about, and the man doesn’t miss a damn thing.

“Bullshit,” he scoffs, eyes pinned on me as he stalks into the room with the type of predatory focus that makes me want to claw my own skin off. “You look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.”

“Seriously, Ares, it’s nothing,” I reply flatly, leaning forward to set my mug down on the coffee table. As I retract my hand, he catches my wrist, prompting me to lift my gaze to his.

“Don’t lie to me, Miley,” he says, softer this time. “We lie for each other, but never to each other, remember?”

“I don’t recall making that agreement,” I mutter, tugging my arm out of his grip.

He exhales slowly, shaking his head as he sinks down to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of me, putting us at eye level with one another. “I thought it was implied,” he murmurs, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Tell me what’s going on, babe. Who do I have to kill?”

“Very funny,” I snort.

But he doesn’t laugh. He just stares back at me, deadpan, like he’d absolutely go out right now and murder someone in my name. And as much as I abhor violence, the thought of him avenging me without question is weirdly hot .

We stay locked in a staring contest for a long moment, and I already know I’m going to lose this game. The longer I stay silent, the deeper he’ll dig. Might as well just rip off the bandage.

“Alpha stopped by today,” I say coolly, dropping my gaze to my lap and examining my manicure.

Ares sits up straighter, his jaw clenching. “Did he hurt you?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous decibel .

“No,” I reply quickly, shaking my head. “He just stopped by to issue some threats, remind me of my place.”

“Your place is here ,” he declares, staring into my eyes intently. “With me .”

It’s the kind of thing that should make my heart melt. Instead, it makes it thump erratically, like it can’t decide whether to be touched or terrified.

“He wants you to undergo the extraction procedure,” I say, the knot in my stomach tightening. “And he expects me to convince you to do it. Said it would make things run smoother for the pack on the night of the ceremony.”

Ares blinks, surprise flickering across his face. Then he snorts a laugh. “ That’s what he’s worried about? The pack’s feelings?”

“He knows people will ask questions if the ceremony doesn’t go off without a hitch,” I say, forcing a wry laugh of my own. “He wants to make sure I’m good and mated before I have another chance to embarrass him.”

Ares shakes his head, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll do it if you want. If it keeps him off your back…”

“No,” I blurt. “Don’t.”

He arches a brow. “Why not?”

“It’s… it hurts,” I whisper, tracing my tongue over my gums as if I can still feel the ache there. “It’s not like the ceremony’s actually gonna happen, so you don’t have to put yourself through that.”

He lets out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his copper hair. “You’re worth a little pain, sweetheart.”

I shake my head. “It’s not just that. Once I’m gone, he could use it against you. Force you into a bond or something.”

He scoffs a laugh. “As if he could force me to do anything.”

I give him a sharp look, wanting to tell him he’s an idiot, but there’s no point. This conversation is a non-starter.

“Just… don’t worry about it,” I sigh, waving him off.

Ares shifts closer, reaching out to slide a palm up the back of my neck. I don’t pull away. Not even when he leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, so gentle it almost breaks me.

“I’ll keep you safe until we can get you out of here,” he murmurs. “I promise.”

Something in my chest cracks wide open. I want to thank him, or apologize, or say that I wish things were different. Instead, I just stare at him, hoping he’ll read everything in my eyes so I don’t have to say it out loud.

Then I do what I always do, pushing him away when things get too real.

“We’re almost to the finish line, Ares,” I say dryly. “You don’t have to do the whole hero thing anymore.”

He sighs and drops his hand from my neck, retreating from my space. “This isn’t about the plan. I give a shit about you, whether you believe it or not. So if it’s easier for me to undergo the procedure, I’ll do it. But only for you . Not him .”

“It’s okay,” I rasp. “We’ll just keep pushing it off, and he’ll have to get over it.”

Ares sighs as he pushes up from the coffee table, shifting over to sit next to me on the couch instead.

He tosses an arm over my shoulders, pulling me into his side, and I let myself sink into him.

His heartbeat is steady, his warmth grounding.

For the first time all day, my wolf actually settles, and things feel like they’ll be okay.

We sit there together until the world feels a little less sharp, a little less likely to cut me open. I could stay here forever, pressed up against him and pretending this is real.

But it’s not. It can’t be.

I abruptly pull away, popping up to my feet so fast I get a headrush. “I have to study,” I grumble, snatching my mug off the coffee table and turning to retreat to the bedroom.

“You can’t keep running from me forever, sweetheart,” Ares calls after me in a light, teasing tone.

But I can. And I will. Because it’s the only way both of us survive.