The Ignored Wolf

Night Tour

Louise

The motorcycle tears through the night, the wind slicing across my cheeks like knives.

"What about Cassandra's earrings?" I scream over the roar of the engine as I cling to Elias's waist for dear life.

He laughs. "Still thinking about that crap?"

"Of course I am!" I yell back. "She’s going to notice I’m gone, call the Council, and tell them I fled with her wedding gifts. We’ll be hunted!."

"No we won't," he says calmly. "Cassandra won't do a damn thing."

I gritted my teeth. Why can't any man see the cruel, ruthless side of Cassandra? Probably because she turns on the charm around them, all sweetness and light. I've given up trying to convince Charlie she's evil. I think on some level he knows, he just doesn't care. He's blinded by his love for her, the same way my brain gets fogged by my feelings for him, making me do things that even I find baffling in hindsight.

No joke. Whenever I look back at my past self with a clear head, I want to kill myself. Either jumping off a building, or running a hot bath and opening up my wrists. But I'm too chicken. I'm scared of the pain, so I never follow through.

"Do you actually think she’s merciful?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"Only a blind man would think that," Elias sneers.

My brain short-circuits for a second. I realize I might have misunderstood something. "Then why did you say she won't do it?"

"Because she wouldn't dare," Elias says.

He slows down, the tires crunching onto the gravel shoulder before gliding to a halt. He doesn’t get off. He just pivots in the seat, one long leg propping up the heavy machine. In the darkness, his eyes gleam with an intensity that makes my heart skip, and he's wearing that cocky grin.

"Relax, little wolf," he says. Then he lifts his foot, waggling his boot—the one that had crushed the jewelry. "Those earrings were fake."

I blink, the wind still ringing in my ears. "What?"

"Cubic zirconia. Maybe glass. Whatever it was, it shatters like a cheap wine bottle." He kicks the engine back to life, letting it idle with a low, rhythmic growl. "Real diamonds don't turn to dust under a heel, Louise. Even a wolf’s strength needs a bit more effort than that."

I realize he's right. Now I really do feel like an i***t. "She wouldn't risk the real ones," I whisper, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to my neck.

"Exactly. She just needed a reason to bury you. Theft, hysteria, a reason to lock you away. But Cassandra is too greedy to risk losing the real stones if you actually managed to escape.

I open my mouth, then close it.

It's so logical. So logical it makes me want to throw up.

"You’re an i***t, Louise, but you’re a predictable one."

"I'm not an i***t," I snap.

"Yeah, you are." He offers a devastatingly handsome grin.

We start moving again, slower this time, the engine humming a low vibration through my thighs.

"How do you know her so well?" I ask.

"My stepfather wanted a merger. Wanted me to make her my Luna." Elias shrugs. "I dated her three times. Found her shallow and boring. Couldn't stand the scent of her."

"Is that why you’re exiled?"I ask.

"Unbelievable." He chuckles. "Why do you sound more upset about it than I do?

"Because I happen to be empathetic, unlike you."I glare at him.

"Well, empathetic girl, get this."he smiles, "I left the pack to hunt the rogues for the lycan. I want to avenge my father, anyway. But they seem to prefer describing it that way. The truth is I gave up the Alpha title because the pack was rotting from the inside. If Charlie wants to play King of the Hill in a graveyard, he can have it."

"What do you mean it’s rotting?"

Elias lets out a dry, dark chuckle. "My pack used to be called Twilight. My dad chose it. I liked that name, for dad used to take me fishing for crabs around that time. But after he died, my asshole stepfather renamed it Sunlight to please my mother. Sounds like a goddamn daycare center, doesn't it?"

It’s impolite to mock a pack’s name, but I can't help it. A small, genuine laugh escapes my lips before I can stop myself.

"There it is," Elias murmurs, glancing back. "You have a nice smile, Louise. You should try wearing it more often than that martyr expression you favor."

I flush, hiding my face against the rough leather of his back. "So... you don't think I'm a thief?"

"No. You're too much of a good girl for that. It’s written all over you. Textbook innocence." He pauses, his tone shifting into something lower, more dangerous. "The fact that you’re gorgeous and still a virgin? That tells me everything. You’re waiting for Destiny. Saving yourself for a fated mate who’s probably never coming."

"I—"

"Until," he interrupts, "you meet an Alpha hot enough to make you reconsider your life choices."

"You are incredibly full of yourself," I retort, though my heart is suddenly hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"I’m observant. You wanted me back in that room because you’re drowning, Louise. You love Charlie but he's been pining over another woman, and it's eating you up inside. You wanted to use me to wash him out of your system. To prove you’re desirable. To prove you’re just as much a woman as Cassandra."

I go quiet. The truth is a cold weight in my stomach. "Maybe."

"So," he says, his voice dropping to a velvety rasp, "would you have let any guy who walked in there touch you like that?"

"The door was locked," I remind him, my voice trembling. "And I don't think most guys would have offered what you did."

"I asked for consent. You said yes."

"You manipulated me into saying it!"

Elias doesn't argue. Instead, he suddenly cranks the throttle. The bike lunges forward. I shriek, slamming into his back and wrapping my arms around his waist with bruising force.

"What the f**k are you doing?!"I shriek in horror.

"Manipulating you into holding onto me," he shouts over the roar.

"You f*****g bastard!"

He has the audacity to laugh!

I hate him. I hate the way he smells. Leather, tobacco, and something primal that makes my wolf, wherever she is hiding, want to howl. I hate that I’m pressed so tightly against him I can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt.

But mostly, I hate the way he stops.

He pulls over again, this time near a flickering neon sign bleeding crimson across the asphalt. He doesn't turn around. He just sits there, the bike idling between his legs.

"What do you want to do, Louise?"

The question feels like a trap. "What?"

"What. Do. You. Want?" He emphasizes every word. "Not what Charlie wants. Not what makes Cassandra look bad. What do you want for yourself?"

I open my mouth, but no words come out. I want to be loved. I want my father to look at me without disappointment. But as those thoughts swirl, they feel like lies. For the first time in my life, someone has handed me the wheel, and I realize I don't even know how to drive.

A tear escapes, hot and traitorous. Then another. I try to wipe them away, but the dam has broken.

A sharp screech of brakes cuts through the night.

Elias plants one foot on the ground and turns to look at me. I can't see his expression clearly, but I feel his gaze on me, carrying some emotion I can't name.

"Louise?" Elias's voice has lost its edge, which sounds rough and unsure.

He dismounts, the bike leaning on its kickstand. Before I can scramble away, his hands are on my waist, lifting me off the seat as if I weigh nothing. He pulls me into his chest, his arms wrapping around me with a stiff, awkward hesitation. Like I am a fragile bird and he’s trying to handle me without crushing me.

I don't know what to say. I just stand there, frozen in his embrace, afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid to even blink.

"Stop that," he mutters into my hair. "Stop crying."

I sob harder, clutching his jacket. He starts patting my back in a rhythmic, clumsy way that is so un-Alpha-like it makes my heart ache.

"Why are you being nice to me?" I choke out.

"Careful. People will hear you, and my reputation as a heartless rogue will never recover." He mutters, almost to himself. "Maybe I just don't like seeing something beautiful break. Especially ones who pretend to be tough."

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his gaze softening in a way that makes my breath hitch. He steps back toward the bike, clicking the kickstand up with a sharp metallic snap. "Dry your eyes. We’re almost there, and I have a very strict reputation to uphold at my club. No one cries in my presence unless it’s because they’re having the time of their life."

A small, fluttering warmth begins to bloom in my chest, but then his words settle. Of course. My shoulders slump slightly as I look away. He’s being a protector because that’s who he is. Looking out for the stray and the broken is a duty, a role. It isn't about me.

I drop my gaze, hiding the sudden sting of disappointment, and reach for a tissue in my bag. But before I can find it, a warm hand slides under my chin. His touch is light, insistent, and impossibly gentle as he tilts my face back up to meet his.

The world goes silent. The idling engine, the wind in the trees, the distant city hum, all fades into the background. Elias leans down, his shadow falling over me. I find myself leaning in, my eyes fluttering shut, my heart screaming for the friction of his lips against mine.

I want him to kiss me. I want it so badly it’s a physical ache.

But instead of my mouth, I feel the feather-light pressure of his lips against my cheek. He lingers there for a heartbeat, tenderly kissing away the last trail of a tear.

Then he pulls away, his thumb grazes my lower lip. "We’ll finish this later," he whispers, his eyes dark with a hunger that tells me he’s thinking the exact same thing I am.

As he helps me back onto the bike, he doesn’t just wait for me to settle. He reaches back and pulls my arms firmly around his waist, anchoring me to him.

I always thought Charlie was being dramatic when he called Elias a despicable fallen angel. Now, I believe him. And I finally understand why she-wolves never want to leave his side, why they’d compromise every ounce of their pride just to beg to stay till the morning.

I’ll probably end up wishing for the same thing after the passion, and he'll likely ask me to leave with that same charming, devastating smile.