Rone

Chapter Four

I sat on the steps of Rone's porch with an unlit cigarette rolling between my lips as I glared out at the dark forest. The front door was ajar behind me, washing my back with golden light from within the warm cottage. I dragged in a long breath, trying to get a handle on my erratic breathing and failing.

Security, I reminded myself, a new home.

I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth and broke it in half.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe being a rogue wasn't so bad. Maybe I just wasn't meant to settle down.

The smashed plate on Rone's dining room floor told me so.

"Don't litter," Rone's voice sneered from behind me. I looked down at the cigarette halves I had tossed off the porch and shrugged. Rone growled lightly. "You didn't have to smash your glass and your plate."

"You annoyed me," I snapped, drawing my knees into my chest. "Just like you're annoying me now."

"You manipulated my Beta into bringing you back here to my territory and—"

"No, I didn't," I retorted, spinning around to glare at him where he stood in the doorway. The soft light made his rough features almost pleasing. Unfortunately, his sneer ruined whatever chance he had at being endearing. "Daniel came to me on his own," I countered, "it just so happens I'm likeable."

"Not to me," Rone deadpanned.

"I am to everyone else," I boasted.

Rone snorted, folding his arms across his chest. "I don't believe that," he murmured, eyes drifting just inside the door where you could see my shattered plate and splattered dinner. If I had cared enough, my cheeks would've burned. Luckily, I didn't care at all—I'd smash every plate in his house if it meant he'd remain silent.

I stood and pocketed my cigarettes before walking right up to him, close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck. "I'll prove it," I murmured back, pushing closer until I could reach around him and snag my jacket from inside the house.

His indigo eyes narrowed as he watched me shirk it over my shoulders. I turned and stomped down the porch stairs before heading towards the nearest cottage. Rone waited for a few minutes before he trailed after me, eyes glinting in the darkness.

Within twenty minutes I had a dozen people rallied—including Daniel, Rone's disturbingly huge enforcer, the lookouts I had threatened, and a solid number of complete strangers. I lead the group towards town, smirking as they broke out into friendly banter behind me.

Rone hurried around the group until his pace matched mine. "What does this prove exactly?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It proves that your pack likes me more," I informed him. "I just got a dozen people together to go drinking on a moment's notice—half of whom I haven't even met before." I put on a beaming smile and pointed to it. "This just isn't something the average person can resist."

Rone lifted his chin and I hurried to interject before he could remark just how far above average he was. "Anyways," I continued, "this is step one to my evil master plan of pack domination."

He didn't find this funny.

"Get the pack to like you again," I said softer, "show them that you can be normal—or at least pretend that you aren't some information cyphering cyborg who was programmed incorrectly and therefore cannot connect with humans."

He didn't find this funny either.

"Information cyphering cyborg," Rone repeated slowly, "that's what you think of me."

I gestured down at myself. "Soulless whore from hell," I countered, "is what you think of me."

We lapsed into silence as we walked and soon Rone's pace dropped off until he hovered around the back of the group. I hurried to fall next to Daniel, bumping my shoulder to his to announce my presence.

"We haven't gone out to Britton in..." Daniel shook his head and gave me a coy smile. "This was a nice idea, Vivian," he complimented.

I shrugged. "It only arose because I threw a plate of pasta at Rone's head and missed."

Daniel laughed, thinking I was joking. I didn't correct him. "And the fact that Spencer is coming with us..." he shook his head, "you're already making great progress."

It was another twenty minutes of hiking in heels before we got to the edge of town. The sun had set only an hour before and already Briton's main street was buzzing with people in search of something to satisfy their thirst.

I lead the group as we stalked towards the main club in the small town. Garrett chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder as he joined the line already forming outside the doors. This was where we first met and I pressed a knife to his gut.

"I like the way you think, Red," he complimented. I smiled as I fell into line behind him and his buds, Daniel just behind me with Rone at the end of the line completely. I motioned for him to join us but he stood still and fast, pretending as if I weren't there at all.

I rolled my eyes. "His stubbornness is going to drive me to drink," I muttered to Daniel.

The handsome wolf raised an eyebrow.

"Okay," I conceded, "I'd probably drink even if he wasn't stubborn."

The line shuffled ahead slowly, the closer we got the more Daniel started to shift on his feet. I watched as his eyes darted sporadically, tracking every person who passed us. I laid my hand on his bicep and he jumped.

"When was the last time you went out drinking with friends?" I asked.

"Never?" Daniel mused, "I don't think anyone ever organized a trip like this into town."

I found that hard to believe, especially considering how willing people had been when I offered. They had been so willing in fact that they'd barely stopped to ponder who was asking them. Rone had a pack that instinctively wanted to organize—he just didn't see it.

"You'll be fine," I assured him, patting him on the shoulder as the line dwindled and Garrett was flashing a burly smile at the bouncer. I peeled out of the line and joined Rone at the back. We stood together in silence for a long moment before he turned to me.

"I don't see how this is going to be productive," he said tartly.

I elbowed him and pointed to the young wolves I had recruited. I wanted him to see how they were laughing and tittering with nervous anticipation. I wanted him to see how they were starting to bond together, how a night out made groups territorial of their members. I wanted him to notice how the women would judge each other's potential suitors and the men would watch out for the group's wellbeing whilst laughing and fumbling at dancing.

"People who have fun together, stay together," I answered.

"Did you have fun with your last pack?" he asked coldly.

I turned my eyes up to his. "No," I answered plainly, "I survived with my old pack."

Rone's jaw jumped.

"Whatever you must say, save it," I snapped as we took two steps forward. I spun around to face him, pointing my finger in the centre of his chest. "You have been wildly misinformed about me and you're pissing me off."

Rone leaned down. "Misinformed?" he mused, his confidence in his intellect irritating. "I have heard first hand accounts from the sorry wolves you seduced and manipulated. I have heard long tales of the beautiful redhead who uses her body to do her master's bidding."

I gritted my teeth. "He's not my master."

"What was he then?" Rone asked, his voice completely detached from any sort of emotion. The only thing I could see in his eyes was a flat interest. "A boyfriend? A mate? A pimp—"

"None of your busin—"

"ID please."

I turned around and felt my cheeks flame as I encountered the bouncer with tattoos once more. I looked down at his nametag and read CHET. Of course. Tattoos—Chet—grinned down at me. "You again," he purred, flexing his biceps oh-so-subtly.

I curled my lips into a smirk. "Hello, handsome," I greeted.

Chet stared down at me with a mixture of lust and infatuation. "Do you want me to watch again tonight?" he murmured, thinking he was speaking low enough for only my ears. It was almost painful for me to think of how unaware humans were.

I snapped my teeth right by his ear. "I always crave attention."

He gave a throaty chuckle and motioned for his colleagues to hold the door for me. I dropped one eye in a wink and then sauntered forward, giving my hips a deep, sultry swing before I offered a coy smile over my shoulder.

Rone stood with his hands in his pockets, completely calm and composed as he offered his driver's license to Chet and waited. The bouncer nudged his chin without a word and Rone was in, following behind me without a word or indication that he had noticed the interaction between myself and the bouncer.

I bit down on my own lip to stop myself from explaining—or excusing—my behaviour. Instead, I parted from Rone as soon as I could and beelined for the bar. I ordered two shots of tequila and discarded the lemon wedges and salt as I pounded them back to back.

"Let me buy you another one," some guy slurred as he sloshed his beer on the bar top. I waved him off and he stumbled away, tossing some insult over his shoulder as he left to find some other girl.

I peeled my eyes over the bar, looking for the group and catching only Daniel as he stood by the wall with a beer in his hand. I watched him for a long moment, noticing his head turning every time a man passed by. Right before I was about to head over, Garrett slammed his empty glass on the bar top and grinned down at me.

"You owe me a proper dance, Red," he said, "especially as you nearly stabbed me last time we were here together."

I squeezed out a laugh and took his outstretched hand, allowing him to spin me as we moved onto the dance floor. We danced for a few songs but I grew agitated at Garrett's insistence that I spun around every eight beats. It baffled me still why men wanted girls to spin so often—especially considering that heels and tequila shots made me very unwilling to do so.

I excused myself from Garrett's dancing, claiming I needed a drink as I moved to the bar and hailed the bartender. The other girls I had rallied for the excursion came up to me with their phones out and demanding I wait for them to do my next shot. We laughed and picked out the cutest boys before drinking another two tequilas.

I waited by the bar as my head rushed with the buzz of alcohol, looking around to reorient myself. A few of the guys were arguing with another group in the back, the girls were dancing with one another as they kept a watch on the men they found attractive, Daniel was chatting with a cute blonde guy, and Rone was standing alone.

I turned to the bartender and ordered two beers before starting across the club.

Rone didn't acknowledge me as I approached, didn't smile or tense—he just continued his watch over the dancefloor. I offered the first smile along with a beer. "Are you going to join in?" I asked.

Rone lifted his scarred brow. "I don't drink."

I looked down at the two beers in my hands. "Cool," I muttered under my breath as I sighed. Now I had to be the asshole who double fisted their alcohol. I turned up to him and grimaced. "I'm sorry for smashing your plate," I offered.

He shifted his feet. "And my glass."

"No," I amended, "only the plate."

My heart leapt when he laughed.

I lifted one side of my mouth in a smile. "I'm not that bad," I said to him.

"I prefer to make character judgements based on my own observations," Rone answered.

I gestured out at the pack members we had brought along, trying to get him to see how much fun they were having. "What have you observed so far?" I asked, "me bringing unity to a group of unmotivated, disloyal—"

"They're drunk," he countered, "it doesn't count until they can get along sober."

I shrugged. He might have a point. "Baby steps."

He dragged in a long breath and pushed back his dark hair from his face. "Look, Vivian—"

"There you are," a deep voice rumbled in my ear. A moment later I felt a kiss against my neck and a large, hot hand at my waist. "I lost sight of you for a while." I watched Rone's face slip back to disinterest as he lifted his eyes above me and back to his pack members.

I turned to face the bouncer, dredging up only a stiff smile. "Hey, um—"

He took the second beer from my hand a moment before he pressed his lips to mine. Everything in me recoiled and I stepped back sharply, my stomach pressing against the bottom of my throat.

"Whoa there," Chet said, holding up his hands as I backed up into Rone's chest. My heart was beating erratically, my ears deaf to the music the sound of my blood rushing became the only thing I could hear.

I lifted my hand to my lips and started wiping them, trying to shake off the feeling of panic that was clawing at me. Rone's chest rumbled as he spoke words I couldn't hear over me. Chet's face furrowed into a glare as he lifted his beer and pointed towards me whilst speaking to Rone.

The lights were whirling around me, blinding me temporarily and forcing my eyes shut. In that moment all of my senses kneeled to the power of the memory that swept through me.

His hands curled around my jaw, my chin, my neck. Dane's dark eyes stared down at me intensely as his other hand stroked my hair. "My Queen," he purred softly, his fingers tightening on my throat. "My Weapon," he cooed, pressing his cold lips to mine. "You may use your body however you wish but your mouth is mine."

To emphasize his point, he nipped my bottom lip, drawing a sharp prick of pain and a dot of blood. "Do you understand me, Vivian?" he asked, barking my name. I nodded numbly, pressing my lips back to his and gently unwinding his hand from my throat and tucking it instead around my waist. "Good girl," he said, as if I were a dog. "Good girl."

And so my training was complete.

"Come on," Chet encouraged, grabbing my wrist and tugging. "Let's go somewhere quiet and have some fun."

"Not right now," I mumbled through unmoving lips. I felt wrong, felt dirty, felt disobedient and disloyal. Anxiety clawed at my throat as I thought of the coming punishment, thought of Dane's lifted hand when he found out I had let someone else kiss me.

Chet rolled his eyes. "Come on, I only have twenty minutes left on my break." He gave another tug and I dropped my beer, letting it smash on the ground as I whipped my hand around, dislodging his grasp whilst I reached to my waist and withdrew my knife.

"I said no."

Chet held his hands up immediately, his eyes on the knife. He muttered crazy bitch before he disappeared. I watched as the crowd swallowed him and then I closed my eyes and focused my breathing, my head clearing with every passing second.

Rone's hand on my arm made my eyes snap open. "Careful," he muttered, motioning down at the broken glass on the floor. My ankles and feet were soaked with beer.

"Damnit," I growled with a sharp laugh, "these are my best heels."

Rone didn't indulge me with a chuckle.

I sidestepped the glass and leaned against the wall. "I have a thing with germs," I said, the tequila offering this gem of an excuse for me. "Makes me anxious." I stuck out my tongue in fake disgust, watching as Rone's incredulous expression deepened.

"Are you okay?" Rone asked plainly.

I felt my breath hitch again and contorted my face into painful smile. "I think I need another drink." I turned away as fast as I could and cut through the crowd, my eyes catching on Daniel and he leaned over the blonde boy whilst laughing and clutching his arm.

Sometime after the next three rounds of shots I was lounging in VIP with a group of men gathered for a Bachelor's party. "Who's the groom?" I slurred, laughing hysterically as I poured myself a drink from whatever bottle they had ordered.

"I'm the best man," the one beside me announced proudly, lifting a shot towards my mouth. I grinned and accepted the drink, trying to ignore his hungry stare as he watched me shoot it back. My head was buzzing, the music fuzzy in my ears.

The best man slung his arm around my neck, pulling me close to say something into my ear which I couldn't hear over the music and alcohol. I decided just to laugh which pleased him as he poured me another drink and rested his hand on my knee.

"Vivian," Rone called, leaning over the velvet rope cornering off the VIP booths.

"Hey man!" the groom shouted, "this is VIP!"

Rone completely ignored him. "Vivian, we are leaving."

"Don't leave," the best man cooed, his hand tightening on my knee. The best man was soaked through with sweat, his blue collared shirt darkened underneath his arms and down the V of his chest. "She wants to stay," he told Rone sloppily.

Rone ignored him too. "Vivian."

I sighed and shot back the last drink before patting the best man's knee. "Sorry," I sloshed, "have to leave now." The best man pulled at my hand and I shook him off, my eyes trailing after Rone as he cut through the dance floor.

The fresh air sobered me up a fraction as I left the club, the music still pulsing dully behind me. As soon as I was outside my ears started to whine, the most annoying effect from sitting beside speakers all night long.

Daniel was laughing along with Garrett, their arms slung around each other as they stumbled. The rest of the group was talking and laughing and bonding. I grinned to myself as I swayed on my heels, trying to right myself.

I hurried to catch up to Rone, struggling to steady myself. "Didya have fun?" I slurred, one eye closing against my will.

"Sure," Rone answered.

I frowned. "You don't look like you're having fun," I said, pressing my hand to my mouth as I burped slightly. "Were you jealous?"

Rone shook his head. "Jealous of what exactly?"

"That I didn't spend any time with you?" I said, knowing that my sober self would remember this conversation and wince.

Rone stopped walking, letting the rest of the group walk ahead as they cut into the forest. Rone looked down at me just as the sky opened, letting a misty rain drizzle down over us. I pulled my jacket tighter around my frame as I looked up into indigo eyes, his dark curls intertwining on his forehead.

"Vivian," he said slowly, "I don't care for you. I have no interest in being your mate. I have no feelings that would translate to jealousy. It is a mistake to think that I am too stoic to admit such feelings, or too proud. I am neither of those things. Simply, I just do not care."

I felt my gut lurch and wondered for a split second if I was going to throw up.

"That's okay," I mumbled, patting his chest. "I can't anyways. Dane—" I stopped and swallowed back rising bile. "Dane would never let me—I have to—" I groaned and cursed before I spun and vomited. The rest of the group looked back and gave a cheer as I was sick.

I let my middle finger speak for me.

I straightened and grimaced at Rone who was watching me with distant eyes. I held out my hand for him and cocked a smile. "We're just business partners," I offered. He hesitated before placing his hand in mine and shaking it. We both ignored the way our skin tingled, nerves firing off as biology took over.

"Partners," he agreed, retracting his hand.

Rone walked on, both hands in his pockets as he joined the others. I stood in the middle of the street for a long moment, feeling my jacket grow heavier as it became damp with the rain. I pushed my hair back and off my temples as I groaned, my head already spinning.

I was going to be hungover to hell tomorrow.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

I whipped around to see Waylin leaning in an ally, his shoulder propped up against the brick wall as he flicked the end of his cigarette, sending a burst of orange embers skittering across the ground. Waylin was a tall, lanky, old wolf with buzzed grey hair and a gnarly face made rough with age and a life of fighting.

"Waylin," I breathed, my chest tightening.

"Darling," he said, splitting his face into a smile to reveal yellow teeth.

I pushed my hair over my shoulder, watching my new pack disappear into the trees. None of them looked back. Not even Rone. "Are you just going to stand there or are you going to give me a hug?" I asked, plastering on a dizzying smile.

Waylin took a deep drag of his cigarette. "Dane's still looking for ya," he informed me before quashing his smoke under his boot and sauntering out into the rain. "He's got us out all over the place searching."

I bristled at his familiar Southern drawl. He was one of Dane's most experienced lookouts—luckily, he was also one of his least loyal. I knew little about Waylin's history but I knew that he was only tied to Cerberus to avoid its wrath. Though he was a wolf, he was no pack animal.

I laughed nonchalantly. "Let him look," I teased, "you know he loves a chase."

Waylin raised his eyebrows. "Don't look like you're playing no games, darling."

I waved a hand in dismissal. "You know how it is between Dane and I, always on and off and on again. It's just a matter of time."

Waylin leaned back, watching me through silted eyes. "Your face healed up nice, darling," he edged, "we all though it was a such a shame a beauty like yourself was marred with bruises."

I felt my back teeth grind. "He can't have sent you out looking for me, Waylin. Who are you after? Some big bounty?"

Waylin grinned. "I'm looking for a real dirty dog," he informed me, "some wolf who struck their Alpha, stole money, smashed up a whole bunch of property before taking a car and crashing it only a few miles away. They've been on the run for some time now, and their Alpha wants them back home."

My stomach sank as I lifted my hands.

"Waylin..."

"It will be easier if you just come with me, Vivian," he said, his eyes turning sad. "You know I was always fond of ya, darling. It will be easier for everyone if you come back to him willingly."

I cursed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, nudging his chin towards the forest. "Running around with another pack? You know how Dane is going to feel about that. It's only a matter of time before the other shoe drops, darling. Come back and it might not be too bad for ya."

I dropped my hands to my waist, my fingers hovering over the handle to my blade. "Are you going to make me come back, Waylin?"

We stood in silence for a long moment. I watched his face but it was still as the streetlights changed over his head, shading his features in red light. "Are you going to fight me if I do, darling?"

I drew my knife.

"Please," I said through tight lips. "Just tell him you couldn't find me."

"That's not the truth," he rumbled, eyes dropping to my knife. He was a strong tracker but he was only an average fighter. I griped the knife hard. Waylin drew in a long breath. "The truth is that I saw a girl who looked so much like her I was sure I had found the Queen of the Bounty Hunters but it was a bust."

My eyes watered.

"Thank you, Waylin," I said on an exhale. I went to give him a hug but he held out his hand to stop me.

"Can't have your scent anywhere near me," Waylin said with a slow chuckle. "Think about what I said, darling, come back on your own terms. For the love of the Goddess don't let him find you here with another Alpha."

Waylin lit another cigarette and exhaled slowly. "Or else bruises will be the least of your worries."