Page 4 of Take Two (Valleywood: Season Three)
Chapter 4
Declan
Tearing out back into the cold, I slammed a fist on my brow.
“Why?” I asked the universe. “Why can’t something go right for me?”
There was no answer from above.
My dreams were dashed, or that drunken asshat had crushed them in his trembling fingers. I pictured him as a kid on his birthday, dressed in the superhero suit he’d begged for from his parents. At his party, when playing football, the other children were more interested in tackling, hoping to take possession of the ball. Or challenging one another to a new game on a pair of tablets.
Not being the center of attention, my mate’s behavior had become more outrageous than shouting, from elbowing to jumping off the top of the swing set, and finally, to crushing a tablet and tossing the football into the neighbor’s yard. Cue the end of the party and him not having any friends for the remainder of the school year.
That’s a lot. My wolf wasn’t impressed by the guy, but he was guided by the mating instinct.
Sure, I’d made up a life story for my mate based on him trying to chat me up. He was the sort of alpha who’d drag an omega into the back room for a quick fuck. Or when he’d had too much to drink like today, he might have hurdled the counter and had sex behind the bar.
I was in pity-me mode. My life sucked before I left the pack, and now it was falling down around my ears, drowning me in depression and debt. I could have dealt with Father’s anger and the failing business if I’d been mated to my one true love. If the universe hadn’t given up on me and granted me a mate I could admire, I would have been okay.
Instead, whether I looked forward or back, my life was shit.
You shouldn’t have kicked him out . My beast was longing to mate because that was his purpose in life. He enjoyed hunting, but if we didn’t mate, his life would have no meaning. Or that was how he perceived it.
Maybe . But if he’d stayed, I’d have been subjected to more tales of his supposed bravado. I sniggered, thinking of my mate in a red cape jumping off the counter and spraining his ankle. He might have had redeeming qualities, but like ancient pirate treasure, they were buried so deep inside him, they might be impossible to find. Or they didn’t exist.
I was wrong and Father was right.
Huh? What brought that on? I sensed my wolf had hope we’d return to pack life and find a wolf mate.
I can’t see the way forward. Perhaps I was always destined to follow my father’s wishes and to mate with an Alpha of his choosing for the good of the pack—one who would ensure an ancient treaty was upheld—forfeiting my own happiness.
No. That Alpha wasn’t our one and only. You’d never be happy .
Like human princes and princesses of old, I’d be used to ensure the safety of the pack, forging relationships and loyalty by intermarriage—or in the case of shifters, inter-pack mating. And I’d be the stranger, mated to the Alpha but never fitting in, viewed with suspicion and expected to produce pups.
Few Alphas in the twenty-first century used their children like that. But when my omega dad died giving birth to me, Father held me responsible. Me, a newborn, who’d just taken his first breath. But I took away my father’s beloved mate, and he’d never forgiven me. I was brought up by pack aunties, passed around from house to house like secondhand baby clothes. If he could have adopted me out as a child, he would have. Seeing me reminded him of what he’d lost.
I shivered, despite the inner shifter heat that humans lacked. It was freezing out here, and I strode inside, brushing snow off my shoulders and stamping my feet in the doorway.
As the bar was so quiet, I pulled out the zippered file that contained my unpaid bills. My usual routine was to shuffle them around, putting them into piles of 1) urgent, 2) ignore, hoping they’d go away, and 3) pretend they didn’t exist. I had to pay Wren at the end of the month, not that I had a physical bill for that. And it was necessary to pay the electricity. I tried to economize and used the fireplace as much as possible, but the middle of winter wasn't the best time to be reducing how much power we used.
The door opened, and I glanced up, hoping a group of movie extras were in a good mood, having been paid for a day’s work, but they did nothing other than nap because of the shitty weather.
But it was him , the guy whose mate had given birth in here. A first for The Wolf’s Den. There’d been no way to capitalize on it. Advertising that the bar was the perfect place to give birth during a blizzard wouldn’t tempt any pregnant omega to say, “Goody. Book me in for a C-section on the 25 th .”
“Back so soon?”
The guy, Deimos, was an ass, but his mate had had nowhere else to bring their little one into the world. I’d left them to it, keeping out of their way, but stayed close enough in case they needed something. Not that I kept a supply of diapers or onesies, but I’d provided hot water and a stack of towels as they did in the movies.
“Can’t keep me away.”
I glanced over his broad shoulder. “Your mate not with you today?”
“Home with the baby.”
I studied his face and a memory flickered. Not of the birth, but he reminded me of someone. And his scent had a hint of the familiar. Had he been around my mate? It was possible they’d passed one another in the street, but instead of enticing, his aroma was repellant.
“What can I get you?” The guy had bought a celebratory bottle of champagne after the birth.
“This place.” He leered at me, and his lips curved in a sneer.
I reeled away, not wanting to scent his breath in case it was sour, much like his demeanor. “Planning another celebration?” He didn’t strike me as the party type, rather he was the kinda guy who enjoyed causing discomfort and pain. Maybe he was so flush with cash that he wanted to rent the bar because his child had been born here. A little memento.
“Nope. Or should I say, not until after I buy The Wolf’s Den.” His eyes slid right and then left. “After I change the name, the decor, and fire the staff.”
My wolf seethed inside me. Not that he loved that his shifter was a bartender. But like me, he sensed this man, who was neither human nor shifter, wanted to hurt me. Or at least crush my resistance until I agreed to a deal that favored only him.
“It’s not for sale.” I busied myself cleaning a non-existent water stain off the spotless counter.
“Oh, please.” He pulled out his phone, tapped it, and flipped it around me to show a figure with so many zeros, my breath caught in my throat.
“Nope.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” He adjusted the price. Upward.
Shit! With that kind of money, I could go somewhere, a beach maybe where the sun always shone and decide what I wanted to do next. I’d be beholden to no one, especially not my Father. If I gave up on my mate, I was designated to be alone anyway. Better to be single with a healthy bank balance than living from paycheck to paycheck.
And yet I loved The Wolf’s Den and refused his offer again.
“Look.” He waved the phone under my nose. “Forget your stupid pride. With a healthy bank balance, you could buy another bar, not this shithole.”
Maybe Deimos was used to people being charmed by him and agreeing to whatever he offered. But that wasn’t going to work on me, especially when he maligned what I’d created here. I was determined not to be dazzled by the zeros, and I stood firm.
“I’m not selling. To you or anyone else.”
He waved his hand around the almost empty space. “The bar should be full at this time of day and yet look around. It's a dump. A failing dump.”
Deimos’s hand shot out and grabbed a pile of my bills. He was quick, and my shifter reflexes were no match for his. He crushed them before uncurling his fingers and allowing them to flutter onto the counter.
“You’re a fool.”
“That may be, but I’m not selling.”
“Come on,” he scoffed and wagged a finger. “You’ll lose it if you don’t sell to me.”
“Not going to happen.” If he didn’t shut up and walk away, he’d be the second person I’d tossed out today. One more and it’d be a record.
“Look at these bills. What happens when you don’t pay them?” Deimos sideswiped them, and the tiny pieces of scrunched-up paper fell to the floor. “The bank forecloses.”
He folded his arms, a self-satisfied smile on his face and leaned in close. His breath wasn’t foul, more numbing cold that reminded me of icicles.
“And then I’ll get it for a steal.”