Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 89

Well, fuck it.

If we’re in for an inch…

”Do you think she would still be willing to stay by my side?" I ask quietly.

Two other guards come into the apartment. They stop abruptly and await instructions.

“Let him shift,” I finally say.

The man turns back to human and he’s muttering apologies before the other guards can even toss him clothes.

“I’m not interested in your excuses.”

Terrence intervenes. “Men, please escort Randy back to the mansion. He will be reassigned. If his wounds have not healed adequately, make sure he receives proper medical care.”

When the three of them are gone, Terrence walks over to the kitchen and leans back agains the refrigerator. He crosses his feet.

"Do you want Miss Cummins to continue to accompany you?”

I’m not sure what i want.

So I don’t say anything.

“Sir,” Terrence says quietly. “Could you fallen in love with Miss Cummins?"

Love?

I trace the scar on my chest. The one I got from the one female in this world who should have loved me forever and always.

“There is no such thing as love. Love is for fools and greeting cards and bad movies.”

“Forgive me, Alpha.”

Love is for people like my father. Who choose to die rather than fight. Who could abandon me, his only son.

“No, Terrence. There is no love in me.”

“But you love our pack, our people. Your grandfather.”

I laugh harshly.

Was it not enough to have my father as an example? I would never be so weak or desperate, so pathetic as to be at the mercy of some other person. At most, I like Grace's company. She’s kind and uncomplicated. She doesn’t pry too much and she isn’t trying to get something from me. Her presence gives me a sense of comfort.

That’s all it was.

"Don't say this kind of thing in the future," I say coldly.

Terrence shivers and immediately replies, “Yes, sir.”

Without another word, he bows and leaves the building.

* * * * * * * * * *

PATRICK

The lights are intoxicating in Club Luna.

The atmosphere can only be described as extravagant.