OLAMIDE

Man, I was sure that was it for me. Thought the world done heard the last of Olamide Armstrong. I did not expect to wake up, and sure as hell not like this—naked, cold, and confused. My eyes kept flutterin’, tryin’ to focus, tryin’ to figure if these hands touchin’ me were angels or somethin’. Maybe I died and this was heaven prep or whatever.

“Where am I?” I croaked, pushin’ at the hands of a woman scrubbin’ my lathered body.

“Shut up and let us do our job!” one snapped, short black hair slicked to her head, eyes cuttin’ through me like I was some headache she didn’t sign up for.

Maybe she was right, maybe I was makin’ her life hell, but I still didn’t get why I was bein’ cleaned. Did the monster from before got some twisted kindness, keepin’ me alive? Nah. I shoved that thought away.

I tried to scramble up out the tub but that short-haired chick grabbed me with an iron grip and slapped me hard enough to sting.

“Keep actin’ stupid and you gon’ end up dead regardless of your status as the first mate. If you smell like rotten eggs, even Jason won’t have mercy on you.” She threw the sponge back into the milky water. Her steel-blue eyes flicked at the other women in the bathroom—three of ’em. “Leave her. She awake now. She can wash her own damn self.”

They bowed, dipped out, leavin’ me alone with this girl I nicknamed Hellfire in my head, ’cause that glare she gave me was pure hate. Then she stormed out too.

I fished the sponge out the water, my mind blank. Instinct said run, but I was butt naked in enemy territory. The maids, the monster, they all worked together. I couldn’t even begin to guess what they had planned. I slid out the tub on my toes, tryin’ to reach the door quiet when voices drifted in.

“…She cannot adjust to this life. What was Jason thinking? Second mates exist.”

Sounded like that same woman. “Mate?” Bile rose in my throat. What the hell did that mean? Incubator? Breeder? God, no. The man who took me wasn’t human. Maybe none of ’em were. And if I was right, I was beyond screwed.

“…Nah. Sounds like you just jealous the goddess ain’t choose you as a mate for Alpha Jason.”

The second voice. Him. My captor. The word “Alpha” sent bad pictures runnin’ through my mind—sex ring, trafficking, being passed around till nothing left.

“…Speak of the devil,” I heard him say.

Jason. The name. The door opened. I dove back into the tub, shakin’ all over, heart slammin’ in my chest. An attractive man in a tailored suit walked in, my captor followin’ behind him like a shadow.

So that’s why he spared me. He’d kept me alive for this man. Even dressed slick, I saw through it. He was danger wrapped in silk. He might’ve been the one keepin’ me alive, but that didn’t make me safe.

“She looks cold,” Jason said. “Get her a robe.”

My heart pounded louder. Not ’cause of what was happenin’, but because I caught the bulge twitchin’ in his pants. I was doomed. He crouched down in front of me, smile warm, almost fine if he wasn’t a kidnapper’s partner.

“You okay?” he asked.

Wow. Dude was good at the good-guy act. I wasn’t sure what game he was playin’, but he stayed in character. Maybe he was just as twisted as the throat-slitter hoverin’ behind him.

“I wanna go home,” I pleaded.

He ran a finger past his lips, then through my hair like he ain’t even hear me.

“Curly,” he said, commentin’ on my hair, ignorin’ my words.

I wasn’t that easy to throw off. Matter fact, death was startin’ to sound better than gettin’ violated by some creep.

“Please let me go home,” I said again, my voice breakin’. “I won’t tell nobody what I saw.” I looked at the killer in the corner. “He knows where I live. I ain’t gon’ run my mouth.”

Jason studied my face like he was readin’ a book.

“I wish I could,” he said slow. “But it’s not that simple. I might’ve accidentally kissed your soul and you, mine. Even if I let you go, word already spread. Hawks are out there watchin’ your family, your friends, waitin’ for the perfect chance to hurt me.”

That’s when I noticed the three deep marks on his neck, like claws had raked him. My stomach turned, flashin’ back to what these people could do. They lived by violence. They were violence. He caught me starin’.

“These,” he said, pointin’ at the scars, “were inflicted by a rival pack I hurt pretty bad. He wants revenge, and I fear what awaits you when he comes.”

Too much. My mouth moved before I could stop it.

“What are y’all?”

He smiled. “What if I told you I’m a werewolf? And soon we’ll be bonded… telepathically, emotionally, eventually physically. Inseparable, as long as we both live?”

I fell back into my worst habit. Denial. Wanted to laugh it off, tell myself this a bad dream. But deep down I knew it was real. Then I realized, his mouth never moved. His eyes glowed bright red, a crazy contrast to before. I shrank back into the tub at that unholy sight.

But he wasn’t done.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he sent to me again, his lips still. “You’ll be safe here.”