The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

DRAVEN

I wake up not really knowing where I am. The bed beneath me is so soft I honestly wonder if I might be asleep at all. Maybe I’m not asleep, maybe I am dead and in heaven.

But then the doorbell rings.

Did I have plans this morning? I think I did. I’m almost sure I did…but what?

I open my eyes. “Shit! What time is it?!”

The doorbell sounds again, and I fall out of bed reaching for the things I wore yesterday. “Fuck! I’m coming! Hold the hell on!”

Stumbling down the stairs in my dirty clothes, I flip the switch allowing the shades to reveal the heavy fog of morning crowding the yard. The sight brings a contented smile to my face.

Wow…it really is beautiful here.

Ding dong!!!!

“Jesus!” I screech, opening the door. “The fuck is your deal?”

He stands there looking sexy as hell, the hint of a smile on his face. “I told you nine a.m. sharp.”

Domonic.

Of course. I forgot all about the breakfast appointment.

him smoothly, rubbing the sleep from my

sparkling with amusement. “You are late. It’s ten in the morning.

what?” I counter, crossing my arms over my chest and trying not to notice how crisp

I want to put my mouth on each and every

perfume wafts toward me

smell

can’t explain why, nor do I have the right to be, but I

wanted to roll around for a few more minutes

his smile disappears. “You

door in his face is thwarted by

you

him with a sweet saccharine grin.”No. We’re not.

amusment. A half smile quirking up as

laugh, “Oh yeah? Did she mark you

startles as I throw him a sarcastic frown. His face looks

mean, what?” I chortle, cocking my head at him warily. Then

questions get stupid

eyes

night,” I quip at him and

his neck nervously, glancing left and right as if someone might jump in and save him from my wrath. “I was going to but I-,” he stops,

I chirp sweetly, flashing him my cockiest smile. “And I do not have to have breakfast with you.” I attempt to close the door, but he pushes inside, and I throw my hands up in frustration. “Really?” I snap, stomping my foot in annoyance. “You’re just going to push yourself inside? You see? This is why I want to pay rent! So that I don’t have to let you in here and I don’t have to be nice to you.” I

face me, his eyes are shing with perverse pleasure. “You’re jealous,” he accuses, rotating his shoulders and sizing

giggle, dropping myself down on the couch with a laugh. “No. I’m not jealous. I just don’t like you or your bitch. I never intended to come to breakfast,” I lie. I was going to, but now that I know she only just left, I’m glad I slept

with himself about something, his eyes ticking back and forth as if he doesn’t know what else to say. They finally fall on me and he

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