The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter One

“There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t find you. You are mine. You will always be mine and I will plant my seed inside of you, so that you will never be free.”

The words of a monster that is sometimes a man.

DRAVEN

When I got off the train at the Port Orchard Station, the first thing I noticed was the thick fog surrounding the town. Like wisps of smoke in a heavy blanket, branching like arms from a single cloud, it stretched everywhere. Wrapping around the evergreen trees and up along the mountainside. Settling over the ocean shore and the docks of Port Orchard, Washington.

The sky above loomed a deep gray despite that it was mid-afternoon, and a fine sprinkling of rain danced in the air. It was beautiful, and now, it was my home.

I had applied for a job at one of the few bars in town while I was still living in Florida. I’d been saving for the last three years awaiting the day I would finally disappear from Miami, forever. About two weeks ago, I got my chance. And I took it.

Then again, not sure if you would call what I was doing before, living. I guess, it was more like existing.

And…

Suffering.

Shrugging off the memories of the people I left behind, I step onto the mildly crowded street. Port Orchard wasn’t the largest of towns, but for whatever reason there were a lot of people out on the streets. Picturesque shops line the block I am on, with towers of old-style cottage homes climbing up the hillsides behind it. To my right, I could see the fresh fish market near the docks and to my left, a bustling marketplace full of charming townsfolk selling their wares.

Lovely.

I had studied the map of this city on my phone before I busted it to smithereens, back in Miami. I was happy to see the pictures of this place were pretty accurate. Online it looked like a virtual heaven. For someone wanting to escape into rain and fog, it seemed perfect. The reality did not disappoint.

head toward the docks

Not for the wages they were offering. Besides, this was not a town riddled with ritzy cars, and boujee customers. When I applied over the internet at the library in Miami, I didn’t really think I would get the job. It was

apartment located above the establishment. Two birds with one stone there, so of course, it was the highest on my wish list. The owner wanted someone who could not

a Mister Draven Piccoli, I wasn’t going to correct this miscommunication until I arrived. Which is what I was about to

in a motel or something until I found employment elsewhere. Now that I am here, like actually here, I am completely charmed

in a modern font of purple

this time of day. The dim lighting and retro leather interior give the place an almost mafia vibe. Stepping further inside toward the long wooden bar, I pull off my hood and glanced

there and each of them look up the moment I walk in. One

it is as if I recognize him. As

in a short ponytail and eyes the color of burned coal. Deep and gray and… somewhat penetrating. The other two men appear more basic, and not nearly as intimidating as the

my chin and

Fuck you too, fellas.

bar, I ring the little bell next to the cash register, hoping it might catch the attention of whoever is in

be overly built and impossibly muscular. The guy’s mouth twitches upward as he checks me out. His gaze roving over me from

little lady?” He asks

nod, “Are you

cloth rag he pulled from

is. The moment

Piccoli. I’m supposed to start

the corner, then shifting back to me.