Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 27

Damn it.

She’s backing away from me.

“It’s okay,” she tells me. “Just calm down. There is nothing here to hurt you.”

I’m not hurt.

She is.

The memories fade.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I tried to help…”

Why is she apologizing?

I retract my claws and feel my face and hands reform.

This foolish woman…she can’t even shift to heal herself.

There’s blood dripping from gashes along her forearm.

“It’s nothing,” she tells me.

Right.

Just one more injury to add to a collection.

Her ankle’s still f*cked up. There are bruises on her face and neck that are an ugly yellow and still healing.

And now I’ve sliced her skin.

Without her wolf…”You’ll have scars.”

“It’s nothing. Come back to bed.”

I scoff. Both at her attempts to downplay the situation and the thought of trying to fall back asleep.

My shirt is shredded. I peel it over my head.

When I take a step toward her to grab a washcloth from the bathroom for her arm, Grace tenses.

Sonofabitch.

She realizes what she’s done and blanches.

“No,” I tell her before she can apologize. “You should be afraid of me…”

I cross to the neat pile of clothes on the bedside table. Clothes she bought for me. I drag a shirt over my head.

“W-what are you doing?” she asks.

“It’s obvious. Isn’t it?”

I’m leaving.

“Jay, you don't have to go. It was an accident. I have nightmares too—“

I jerk open the door and walk into the night.

“Jay, are you coming back?”

I don’t know… “Maybe.”

The next day, I’m back in my pack’s headquarters and in the office. Gone are the streetclothes. My hair is tied back. I’m clean shaven.

This isn’t some silly Clark Kent, ‘oh, these glasses make me look totally different’ scenario.

I’m the same man.

It’s the disparity between my circumstances that have people seeing what they want to see.

In many ways, this game with Grace has been an effective social experiment. When I’m poor…people overlook me.

I realize this is true for wolves, humans, people in power.

I’ll learn from this lesson, I vow. And make sure all members of my pack have better equality.

We have stipends and communal lands. Grants and resources available for each family. But as Alpha, I’ve amassed billions. We have real estate throughout the city, politicians in our pockets, connections to the military and DoD. More importantly, I have control over the Nine ranges of wolves in the area.

There isn’t a pack on this seaboard stupid enough to challenge me.

I stare at the cheap ass cell phone Grace bought for me.

I flip it over and over in my hand.

She’s called.

She’s texted.

Nothing pushy. Just letting her know she’s fine. And asking if I am.

Despite that I clawed her arm something fierce…despite that I could have killed her!…she’s still worrying about me.

In the afternoon, the top management of the Reed Pack conducted its quarterly financial meeting. While everybody is listening attentively to the report, my mobile phone suddenly rings.

It’s Grace.

I’ve ignored her all day.

What if she’s hurt?

I ignore the odd stares—and every wolf in this boardroom is staring—and answer the call. I put the phone up to my ear.