The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Three

DOMONIC

There is something disturbingly wrong with me today and although I don’t want to admit it, I know what it is.

The girl. Not the one presently kneeling in front of me as she expertly sucks my dick.

But the one from this afternoon. The one from the bar.

Draven.

An image of her long black hair and bright green eyes fills my vision and suddenly, my chest is aching again. The way she looked at me – the pleading in her gaze, then the disappointment in her eyes when I told her she had to leave – has me haunted. Leaving me with a burn in my chest that feels like my heart might explode.

I’m done with this bitch in front of me. Try as I might, I’m just not into her anymore. I guess I never really was. But now, since meeting Draven, I can’t even pretend to be.

First, Margo looks nothing like Draven, and suddenly, that fiery girl that I just sent out on the train is the only woman I want on my dick.

Fuck!

“Get up,” I hiss, and she smiles. Lifting off her knees and reaching for my neck. I shake her off, “No. Don’t touch me. I’m not in the mood.”

She jerks back, her blond hair swinging with her breasts as she shakes her head at me. “What is the matter with you baby? You’ve been acting funny all day.”

I roll my eyes and head for my bathroom to clean her mouth off my cock. “It’s nothing,” I say, rubbing at my chest and the bruising ache there.

It’s not nothing. But it will be soon enough.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I’m ashamed. I’m probably never gonna see her again. That girl. I’ll never know any more about her than I did today. I won’t get to feel that pull I felt earlier either. The way every hair on my body stood up when she entered the bar and the wolf inside of me purred as the world fell away at my feet.

When I was growing up, my mother always told me that one day she would find me… my mate. Mom said that when it happened no one else would matter for me, but her. Then mom would pretend to be jealous of the imaginary human just to hold me in her arms and make me promise to never to grow up. I guess I never believed it could really happen.

But it did today.

Relax. She’s gone. It will get easier.

It had better.

“Hey Dom! I was talking to you,” Margo snaps, stepping into the reflection of my mirror, her large breasts still unbound and heaving with sexual energy. “I want you inside me. Please?” She reached for me and I grab her hands in mine, forcing a smile on my face.

a shower. Let’s head to the bar. I need to talk to Bartlett about

out in a way she

I snap before heading

is gone, this fucking ache

it might just get

DRAVEN

minute. After a quick and pleasant tour of the establishment as well as the apartment above it, Bart left me to prepare

I was freshly showered, I brushed the tangles out of my long black hair and decided to leave it down to sway past my ass. It fell straight and shiny without even the possibility of curl, but I usually wore it braided and wrapped into a tight bun. A habit I developed to keep it from being easily grabbed. Now that I was free, I could wear it any way I

and a tight long-sleeved black turtleneck, much like the white one I arrived in, I smile at my reflection. Despite the bags under my sparkling green gaze and the

lips and a two-brush coating of mascara over my long lashes, I am ready

to find Bart standing there with a tiny purple crop top in hand. The

wants me to wear that tiny thing, I just know

mouth falls open in

I’m guessing you want me to wear that.” I grimace, my teeth flashing with a tight open mouthed

eyeing me suggestively.

of my hair, as is my habit sometimes when I get nervous. “Can it wait until, say a week from

falters. “I would prefer it didn’t, but I suppose it could. Any particular reason why?

I’m wearing and

at me and refusing to move. Rolling up the sleeve of one arm, I

goes momentarily red with anger. “I’m

my breasts and turning around. I allow him a moment to view the

shit,” he bellows. “Your stepfather did

did.” Then deciding a bit more honesty can only help

is always hard to get

growls out. “how fucking old is the

“My age.”

and the situation being what it is – refused to allow my using my

it for

he has only just met me, I didn’t exactly understand the strength behind it. He looks ready

has a thing

you asked me where the

I was… “I really would have gone there to apply. Just not right away. Can

he interrupts, tossing the shirt at me so that I can pull it over my head.

know I never will. “Thanks,

“Bartlett,” he corrects me.

as I saunter