Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 84

JASON

I laugh and let my canines drop. In the next second my hands are morphed into claws. I have Sean by

the throat and dangling two feet in the air.

He sputters.

I squeeze tighter.

“What gave you the impression you were permitted to ask questions?”

Terrence clears his throat.

It’d be easy enough to snap this mutt’s neck. Oh, it’d likely start an all-out war. At least with the

Stevens. When push comes to shove, I don’t think the Atkinson Pack has the balls to go head to head

with me.

But maybe they’re feeling bold.

This young wolf certainly is.

Sean makes some choking sound.

I lift him higher and though he grabs my arm and tries to break my grip, he doesn’t actually fight against

me.

Smart boy. Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

I’d tear his heart out.

“Would you like to settle this… differently?” Wolf to wolf, I mean. And already, my wolf, Theo, is

prowling inside me, itching to break free.

Sean Stevens shakes his head.

He’s a pampered male. A wealthy elite that has not known struggle or what it really means to lead.

I wonder what it is that Grace ever saw in him.

I toss him aside in the next moment and he gasps as he hits the marble floor.

Terrence stands over him shaking his head. “I think it’s best you leave,” he advises. He hauls Sean to

his feet and marches him toward the front door.

“When you shouldn't ask something, don’t.” Terrence shoulder-nudges Sean out of my house. Beneath

his breath, he mutters, “How can you not understand this, Mr. Stevens?”

I wait until the door closes before walking back to the couch in the study.

My pulse is racing and I want to run and hunt and kill. I take took out a cheap mobile phone and make

the one call that will bring me peace.

After a while, a gentle female voice sounds from the other end of the phone.

“Sister,” I say slowly. “ What do you want to eat for dinner? I'll bring it back for you.”

She chuckles. “Is that why you’re calling? I was worried. I’m glad it’s nothing more serious.”

I smile. “I think I might go hunting.”

“Oooh. That sounds lovely. Something fresh then.”

Even as a human, she still has a taste for the natural meats she likely would’ve eaten when she would

shift and run free.

I still regret that she can’t.

My wolf howls low.

I rub my chest.

Salmon are running and the river at the edge of his lands has seen the start of them beginning their

migration inland to spawn.

My wolf snaps his jaws.

No, I laugh at him. It is not as good as hunting Sean Stevens.

But we’ll save that wolf’s demise for another treat.

That night, Grace is wiping the photo frame that holds her mother's photo. She takes very careful care

of that keepsake and the one of her grandfather. When I’d asked her about it, she’d said that very few

things remain of her past. Some are with her father at Pack Cummins, the rest had been destroyed

when she was declared rogue. This photo was the only item she had left with which to reminisce about

her mother.

As she wipes the photo frame, I sit to one side, watching her quietly.

"Oh, right. Jay, there’s a long weekend coming up for the holiday. Do you have any plans? Maybe a

ticket to return to the caretaker’s cottage?”

“No, I don’t have a ticket.”

“Okay,” Grace says. She nods once. “I can pick one up for you tomorrow.”

My brows draw together as I realize what she’s trying to ask. "I don't need to buy any tickets."

"You don't have to go home?" she asks.

“I took a trip out last week during the day and let my wolf run. And aside from here, I don't have a

home."

I say it to dissuade her from digging too deep into my identity but as I say the excuse, it dawns on me

that it is true. Even though I had stayed in the Reed Residence for so many years, I’ve never really felt

at home there.

“Are you sure there is no family you want to see? Jay, you’re such a good person. I can’t believe that

you don’t have people out there missing you.”

I smile faintly. ”I do have some relatives, but I don't need to go around visiting them." As for the old

head of the Reed Pack, although we are grandfather and grandson, family affection is something that

does not exist in the Reed Family. The only thing that my grandfather was interested in was an heir.

The succession of the Alpha bloodline was all my grandfather cared about. What's more, half of the

blood in my body came from that woman's.

It could be said grandfather even felt disgust for me because of it. I remember how as a child,

grandfather had looked at me in disgust several times and said with a ferocious expression, "Why do

you have that woman's blood in your body? You shouldn't exist at all!"

At that time, I’d been beaten by my grandfather many times already. The infractions ranged from a less

than perfect score on a school test to running too slow when out on a full moon.

It was only after I’d matured and proved my aggressive nature, defeating other distant family members

in my pack through fights that had occasionally been to the death…that grandfather's attitude toward

me had slowly changed.

However, the fact that I have that woman's blood in me is a fact that could not be changed. Funny, of

the two of my parents, it’s my father I resent more. Between him and my mother, he was the weaker of

the two.

Grace hesitates. "What about your... parents? They are..."

I don’t want to talk about my parents.

She takes a step back.

Something of my revulsion must show on my face.

Grace bites her lip. "If you don't want to tell me, just pretend that I didn't ask."

"Would you really like to know?" I counter, my voice carrying a hint of unintended coldness.

Grace twists her hands together. It’s one of her tells, when she’s nervous. Her fingers pained her a lot I

know, so she only does it when she’s very upset.

“Why do you ask, Grace?”

Her big, pretty eyes bat up to mine. ”I just want to know more about you. However, if you don't want to

talk about these things, then let's not talk about them. In any case, the past isn't important. We just

need to look ahead, right?”

I appreciate her giving me an out. But that was Grace, wasn’t it? Always thinking of others before

herself.

"My father died. The day you met me was my father's death anniversary. On that day, he died in the

spot where I was sitting by the road.”