Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 26

JASON

Maria’s angry and yelling. Her hands are fisted and she’s actually stomping her foot. I have to say, I

haven’t seen an actual foot-stomp outside of kids taking a tantrum when they don’t want to go home at

the end of a pack holiday.

Finally, she storms off with Mia following her.

The car sits there. Windows shattered. Doors dented. It looks like it’s been hit with a Mac Truck.

“Wow…I wonder what happened?” Grace says.

I shrug.

I guide Grace toward the bus stop.

“Well, it's none of our business anyway,” she tells me.

“You’re very calm considering how she treated you. I thought you’d be more pleased.”

Now she shrugs. “Why? i don’t wish bad on anyone.”

“Even people who have wronged you?”

“Maria was rude to me. Sure. But that doesn’t mean I wish her harm. If prison taught me anything, it’s

that there are stories and reasons hiding beneath everybody.” This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“Is that right?” I ask.

She glances at her feet. “Well…I’m not sure bad people are ‘born.’ I kind of think they’re made. Like we

are all just in this life, dealing with the things that happen to us and the cards we are dealt. Maybe

Maria hasn’t had an easy life.”

This woman…

“It’s noble of you to make allowances. But people have to be responsible for their own actions. A tough

life is not an excuse to abuse somebody else.”

She nods. “You’re right.” She looks up with a hint of a smile. “The things she said to you made me soo

angry.”

“So maybe you found it a little satisfying when she was freaking out over the car?”

She blushes. “Maybe a little. But really… isn’t it sad that her sense of worth is derived from a vehicle?! I

mean, she was trying to tempt you to break up with me because of her car. Like you would be that

shallow.” She realizes what she’s said and her mouth opens and closes like a fish. “Not that we are

dating or anything!”

I find myself wanting to smile.

This woman is amusing…

I nudge her and she blushes more.

“Have you always been such a pacifist?”

She makes a noise that sounds like a snort. “No. Ava…my wolf… she has a temper.”

“So does mine.”

“I never would’ve guessed that,” she says mildly.

As an Alpha, I have to be strong. Objective.

Ruthless in war, business, whatever way will ensure the survival and success of my pack and species.

We walk toward the bus stop. I have the inexpensive phone in my pocket and…it pleases me. When

we get home, I think I’ll go and buy some good cuts of beef for Grace. She’s a very good cook with

simple ingredients and I suspect she’ll turn out even more amazing meals with some better quality

meats.

Grace is smiling up at me and I catch myself grinning back. Then there’s a flash of movement behind

her that catches my eye.

My wolf is instantly at attention.

I freeze.

“What’s wrong? Jay, are you okay?”

I shake my head to clear it.

“You look like you saw a ghost.”

My gaze cuts to her swiftly. She’s not wrong…

The woman who stepped off the bus and disappeared into the market crowd…she looked too much like

the woman who’d deserted her Alpha and son.

My wolf snarls inside me.

Surely, I must be mistaken.

***

Grace frowns at me as we get ready for bed. She doesn’t pry and I appreciate that. I don’t talk about

that part of my life… ever.

Even my beta knows better than to bring it up.

I mark the anniversary and that’s it.

She doesn’t merit any more than that for what she’s done.

“Thank you for the phone,” I tell Grace and force a smile for her benefit.

Her smile wobbles a bit, but she nods. It’s obvious she’s worried about me.

But I’m fine.

And I don’t need her—or anyone else—worrying about me or digging at scars.

At least this woman has enough sense to know when to leave me alone.

Most nights she argues with me to sleep in the bed. Saying we should ‘swap’ so it’s fair. She never

offers to share her bed. And part of me is waiting for that invitation.

Though I haven’t decided just how far I intend to take this particular game.

“You should go run,” she says quietly.

My wolf is pacing beneath my skin and I’m in a … mood. She’s not wrong. If I shift into my true form for

a while, it’ll go a long way in dispelling the unsettled way I feel.

“Goodnight, sister.”

She’s tense and wants to say more. But after a long, long pause, she says softly, “goodnight.”

I close my eyes and breathe deeply.

I can mark the exact moment that Grace drifts off to sleep. Her breathing evens out and her respiration

slows.

Sleep evades me.

Jagged pieces of memories float through my mind.

My father teaching me to hunt. To fight. To channel my will to my packmates.

Bits of wisdom. Warnings.

The night he sat me down in the library and told me, ‘Jason, don't follow in my footsteps. Even if you

were to fall for a woman, don't love her wholeheartedly.’

My father was broken by then.

He’d mated my mother and when she broke that bond… he was never the same again.

I blink and try to make sense of my surroundings. I’m in the pack mansion but the wall color is different

and its cold.

There is a crib.

My wolf is growling inside me. He paces in mind like he’s trapped in a cage.

The dark-haired woman stormed out the door and father followed. He had to catch her. He couldn’t let

her leave.

“Jason, I'm leaving. I don't want to hear your father telling me how much he loves me and is yet unable

to give me the kind of life I want! I've already done my best."

"Who's that, who's talking to me now?"

"Don't...go..."

Who's that talking now? Oh, it's me. Begging the woman. If she leaves, my father will...

"Don't go! Don't go!" I struggle to catch hold of her, but it’s like trying to catch the wind.

I wake up thrashing.

I have shifted, my claws are extended and they rake across something.

There’s a scream.

Grace.