The alpha didn’t order me to answer his question, so I kept my mouth shut.
For one brief moment, a well of hope sprung up in me that maybe this alpha truly didn’t know who I was, and I could use that to my advantage. My hope drained away just as quickly. Every werewolf alpha in North America knew exactly who I was. More than likely, Jasper was pretending that he didn’t recognize me in the hopes that I’d go with them without making a scene.
As if he read my mind, Jasper said, “Why don’t you come to the packhouse with us? Then, Lucas can treat you, and you can give me an explanation for why you were threatening to slit my throat. But you probably don’t want to walk through town with makeup dripping down your face. Ace, some warm water, please…”
Ace slid a glass across the bar, and Jasper plucked a bar napkin off the top of the stack. He dipped it in the glass and squeezed the excess water out. “Here.” Jasper’s hand cradled my chin, and he gently dabbed under my eyes with the napkin. “I’m sorry for making you cry. It wasn’t my intention.”
I stayed very still, knowing that it would have probably been better if I walked through town with makeup dripping down my face. At least then there was a chance someone would think there was a reason for concern seeing three big men escorting an obviously distressed woman.
Jasper tossed the dirty napkin over to Ace who threw it away. “How about you come with us, and after that, we’ll discuss what comes next.”
I knew exactly what came next. I would go with them and look for chances to escape along the way, all the while having to deal with my injured hand. I tried to keep my breathing even as I tugged my bleeding and now aching hand from Lucas’ grip. “I’ll go with you, but I need my backpack from behind the bar.”
“Ace,” the alpha held out a hand, but he didn’t take his eyes off me.
The bartender grabbed my bag and was about to pass it over when he lifted it to his nose. He unzipped the top pocket and pulled out my gun. No one at the bar so much as blinked when he raised it in one hand. “Packing some serious heat here, Annie Oakley.”
“What is that?” Jasper barked, seemingly unfazed.
“Forty-caliber semi-auto with…” Ace sniffed the barrel, “Silver ammo.”
“Werewolf killer,” the alpha said, and then he held out a hand. “I’ll lock this up for you. It’ll make all of us feel safer.”
Some irrational part of me wanted to lunge for the gun as the bartender passed it over the bar, but a move like that was much more likely going to convince the alpha to use my weapon against me. All Jasper had to say was, “hold still,” and then I’d sit there patiently while he loaded me with silver.
“And here I was about to shove it in the back of my pants,” Ace muttered as he washed his hands under the bar. His dark eyes flashed over to me, and I could see a cold judgement there that hadn’t been there before. A sudden surge of condemnation pressed in on me from the bartender.
“You know what? Fuck you… and you… and you.” The only person I didn’t say it to was the veterinarian. “Everybody knows that only cowardly wolves kill other werewolves with silver bullets—right?” I asked as I hugged my injured hand to my chest. “That’s just given in pack society, right? But how does an omega win a dominance fight? Oh, wait. We can’t, not ever.”
All four of the men blinked at me slowly, and I felt a low thrum of confusion pulse through both Ace and Jasper.
“Omega,” Jasper said under his breath, and a surge of shock zipped through the diminishing emotional link I had with him. A moment later, a realization and rightness flowed in from Jasper, like all of his burning questions had just been answered.
Fuck.
Fuck a fucking duck.
It wasn’t possible.
Everyone in werewolf society knew who I was. Each time I ran away, my image was sent to every alpha in North America. But from the alpha and bartender’s emotions, and from the looks they all shared between them, they truly hadn’t known who I was.
And then, I told them.
Damn it all to hell. I just gave myself up to a bunch of werewolves. This had to be a new low point in my life.
Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so upset with us? No one here called you a coward for having the gun.”
“Maybe not in your words, but that’s my other curse. When you guys give me orders, I get to feel your emotions. And, you know what, I don’t appreciate getting called onto the carpet by some limp-dick misogynistic assholes. If you want me to go with you anywhere, you’re going to need to force me, and, believe you me, I will make you pay for every fucking second. Trust me, the one thing that I’m amazing at is making asshole werewolves suffer while they’re breaking my will.”
Jasper unzipped the top compartment on my backpack, set my gun in, and zipped it back up. He held up the bag.
“What’s this?” I asked as I took the backpack, feeling like it had to be a trap somehow.
The alpha blew out a breath and ran a hand over the back of his head. “You’re welcome at our pack house for a safe place to sleep, but we’re not forcing you to go anywhere with us.”
My heart caught in
