Chapter 6 Lucas: Gala (II)

LUCAS

I stare down at my phone, reading Kellan's texts with a furrowed brow, tapping my foot against the seat in front of me. I have yet to enter the ballroom, because I don't like dealing with this kind of shit. The annual fated mate hunt, where barely legal women throw themselves at you in hopes of finding that mystical connection. Fuck that.

[KELLAN: The Blackwood wolves are here, just as we suspected. There are definitely two daughters. The rumors might be true. I'm going in.]

[KELLAN: Keep an eye on the younger daughter. Something's off about her relationship with her family. Grey just about threw her away when I came up, and he's trying to get the older one in my pants.]

I'm surprised. It would make more sense if they had aimed for me, as the alpha, but to send Jessa Grey into Kellan's arms…

Unless they wanted another daughter. If Grey didn't want Kellan anywhere near the other one, perhaps it was because he had another target in mind.

If both his daughters were mated to the alpha and beta of my pack—yeah, I can see the appeal, if I was a two-headed snake like Grey. He would probably be running my pack within the year, if I were stupid enough to let something like that happen.

young, as if we can only think with our dicks. Unfortunately for him, I've never been tempted to dip

my heel. Smoke wafts out of the car door before I slam it shut,

ballroom, I keep to the shadows, avoiding the gazes of the other attendees. The last thing I need is to be accosted by some desperate she-wolf looking for a quick lay or a mating bond. I

to spot them. Grey stands tall and proud, his chest puffed out like he owns the place. His son, Phoenix, hovers nearby, his expression stoic and unreadable. And then there's his daughter, Jessa, draped over

The Blackwoods are so transparent in their attempts to force an alliance between our packs. As if I would ever allow that to happen. I may be young, but I'm not stupid. I know better than to trust a pack with a reputation like

attempt to take it over in the next generation. The real

out my phone and shoot off a quick text to

daughter wearing? I don't

wait for his response, my gaze continues to roam the ballroom. And that's

off to the side, almost hidden in the shadows. Her dark blonde hair falls in soft waves around her face, and her thick-framed glasses only seem to enhance the

an elegant little number in black, with the barest peek at the swell of her breasts. My fingers twitch as the fabric swirls gently

Classy. Sexy. Mine.

never heard before, a primal recognition of something I can't quite put my finger on. All I know is that I want her, and I want

to get closer. Instead, I stick to the shadows and keep my eyes on her. She's uncomfortable, and walks as though her shoes are foreign, but she's clearly a little older than most of the first-time she-wolves who attend this

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