Puck Me, Gently

HALFS OFA WOLF AND WARLOCK

ALEX

A dagger whistles past my face and I barely duck in time as it slams into the wall behind me with a violent thunk, the hilt still vibrating from the impact.

“The…. f**k?” I breathe out, heart slamming against my ribs.

My entire body is quivering from shock. I spin around, back hitting the wall, scanning the hallway. It is still as empty as it had been a minute ago. And an hour again, and the entire time I’ve been roaming like a stray.

But this time I hear giggling, girlish giggles.

It’s the third time today. These weird-ass noises down the halls, flickering lights, that gut-deep feeling like someone’s watching me. I’m starting to lose my damn mind in here. Within the walls of the Paxon pack, questioning my decision to the point of near insanity.

It’s been seventy-two hours.

I’ve counted.

Three f*****g days since I’ve been in this overdecorated, haunted-ass mansion with zero sign of my so-called “mate.” I didn’t know what I was at this point. If I was Reid’s guest, his prisoner or a trophy that he had won from the gang rivalry and tossed around to collect dust.

The maids won’t look me in the eye when they attend to me and they don’t know what to call me. I told them to stick with “Alex.” because the whole Luna bullshit was not going to fly.

Now I’m stalking down the hallway, trying to act like I know where I’m going. After getting smothered from being inside the room for days, no access to Reid or anyone other than the maids, I decided it was worth having my legs stretched and taking a tour down the mansion.

Now, as I’m wondering who had thrown a dagger, the sound of girls giggling echoes down the hallway.

I only saw the two identical girls when I whipped around the corner, my jaw clenched in anger.

They looked like they’re in their late teens, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Both have long, dark waves that fall like curtains over their shoulders. The only difference is in their eyes. One has piercing blue eyes, and the other has heterochromia with one eye gray and the other ocean blue like her sister’s.

One of them twirls a second dagger between her fingers like it’s a toy.

The other leans against the wall like she’s been waiting for me to find them.

“Well, well,” the dagger-twirler says, blue eyes glimmering. “Reid’s little mystery finally crawls out of her room. Didn’t think you were real.”

“She’s definitely real. Look at her fists,” the heterochrome-eyed one snickers, stepping closer, “She’s tense. Cute.”

I don’t move but my blood’s already boiling hot and my eye’s narrowed.

“Did one of you throw that?” I jerk my chin toward the dagger still quivering in the wall behind me.

Both of them glance at it, then back at me.

“Yeah,” blue-eyes shrugs. “We missed.”

“Barely,” I snap.

“That’s the point,” heterochrome grins. “If we wanted to hit you, you’d be bleeding.”

“Charming,” I mutter.

They move like they’re the same person. Same stride, same tilt of their heads. I’m suddenly reminded of Reid’s annoying smirk and how much it has always chilled and terrified me to the bones.

But these girls don’t scare me, they barely do, which might be a mistake for me to underestimate them if they are truly the Maddox family. Sure, they'd just tried to take my head off with a dagger before a formal introduction, which was... honestly, completely on-brand for everything I'd heard about this pack.

But that was nothing compared to how evil Reid could be.

Just to be sure, from the synced tilt of their heads, to the glimmer in their eyes, and the realization that these girls truly did remind me of him, I pass the question across.

“You're his sisters or something?” I ask, stepping back once.

“We’re twins,” blue-eyes says.

“Obviously,” I bite.

They both laugh, like I’m the most fun they’ve had all week.

“But I haven’t seen anything like you on these walls,” I add, glancing around. The entire walls of the hallways were filled with huge frames of Reid, which was honestly pathetic. The obsession with his own image was so aggressively loud, it sounded like overcompensation. “Just Reid everywhere…. Reid with a f*****g trophy, Reid with a wolf…. It’s like living inside the mind of an obsessed narcissist.”

“Tell me about it,” heterochrome mutters. “He has an oil painting of himself in every room..”

“How subtle,” I whisper, the disgust clear in my tone.

Blue-eyes steps closer, squinting at me, eyes narrowing like she’s trying to see past my skin. “You’re not human.”

“But she’s not a wolf either,” her twin adds, leaning closer to sniff me once. “You don’t smell like it. Not all the way.”

I shift on my feet, feeling uneasy under their scrutinizing gaze. “Do you guys just start conversations by throwing knives and sniffing strangers?”

They both grin.

“What are you then?” blue-eyes presses, circling me, ignoring my question.

“Why don’t you tell me what you are first?” I shoot back.

“Bitchy,” one says.

“Deadly,” the other winks.

I raise a brow. “Not what I meant.”

“We’re half,” blue-eyes says, finally stopping. “Wolf and warlock.”

“And you?” Her sister asks.

Wolf and warlock. My mind snagged on the description. Half. The question had been some sort of jab back, but now, I’m left wondering what they mean by being halves. A wolf and a warlock. Was their legendary Alpha, Reid, also a half? It was a mess of an idea, but it made dark sense.

I didn't know the guy. Not really. After seventy-two hours of being trapped here, I finally admitted it: everything I knew about him was based on the rink—rival captain, smug face, big bully, the one that had selfishly put an end to my career. Beyond that Alpha bullshit, I had zero clue who he was. And that made me really question myself and the horrible decision I'd made at the airport a few days ago, what does Reid really want with me?

The girls wait, their faces mirroring the same expectant curiosity.

“I’m a wolf,” I finally admit, the words coming out clipped and dry. “Just without the wolf.” I meet their gaze, the confusion over my own nature scribbled over their faces. “Does that answer your question?”

They blink, then beam like I’ve just told them I can turn water into vodka.

“Oh my God,” blue-eyes says. “She’s broken.”

“I love broken things,” her twin says dreamily.

“Same.”

They talk over each other again, completely ignoring me now.

“She can stay in our wing.”

“No. Mine.”

“Only if Reid allows it.”

“He will.”

“Won’t know until we ask first.”

“Will you ask?”

“No, you do the asking.”

“Why don’t you?”

I lift a hand. “Hello? Still right here.”

They both turn to me at the same time.

“You got a name?” one asks.

“Alexandra…” I don’t add my father’s name.

They both nod slowly, like they’re trying it out in their mouths.

“I’m Layla,” says blue-eyes.

“And I’m Liyah,” says the heterochrome one. “You’ll—”

I cut her off with a sudden smothering urgency before she even gets a chance to finish her sentence, “Where’s Reid?”

My chest is tight. I hate how much his absence bugs me. And if I’m being honest with myself, he had been the real reason why I had wandered out of my room in the first place. I keep telling myself I don't care, but it still stings to feel like some piece of cheap luggage—won and then dumped in the corner. I chose him, he claims I'm his mate.

So where the hell is he?

If I want to get any answers, or any leverage, I have to see him.

“I need to have a word with him,” I quickly add when the girls pause longer than I can endure. “Just point me in the direction of his room.”

In sync, the girls shared a glance, which suddenly made me feel like an outcast in this conversation. Every ounce of excitement or giddiness that had been present only a few seconds ago had instantly vanished like a neon flashlight sign.

I clear my throat awkwardly, interrupting their shared glance, like they’d been communicating telepathically and I’d just breached that connection.

When they look back at me, they look far less smug, and more serious now.

“Are you really his mate?” Layla asks, sounding almost cautious.

My brow puckers, and before I can even answer, Liyah drops her own question on me. “The one from Ragriz pack?”

It’s a simple question, but something about the way she says it turns my blood cold. My back straightens. The one. The. As if maybe there’s another. Or maybe there was supposed to be. Something about her tone makes it sound like I’m not the first Ragriz girl to show up here.

I blink at her, heart hammering so loud I’m scared they can hear it. They’re still looking at me like I’ve got something stuck to my face. Like they suddenly decided I don't belong in the pack.

Then Layla tugs at her sister’s wrist. “Come on,” she mutters under her breath, not bothering to whisper. “We’re not getting in trouble with Reid for this.”

Liyah doesn’t argue.

They both turn, walking away down the hall, their long black hair bouncing in unison like they rehearsed it. I stare after them, confused and rattled, and suddenly so small in this massive f*****g house.

Their last words haunt me. Not getting in trouble with Reid. For what? Talking to me? Or saying too much? And why the hell did she say the one from the Ragriz pack like there was ever more than one?