On Heat for The Cursed Alpha

Chapter Five

Kael’s POV

Selene doesn’t knock. She never does. She just floats into my room, her heels clacking against the floorboards. The pale silk matches her porcelain skin and she knows it. The one weapon she has is how she looks.

And she tends to use it to the best of her ability.

“Tell me again,” she says, going straight to the point. She waltzes over to the window, looking down at the ladies sauntering in. “Why do we need this banquet? It’s unnecessary, isn’t it? You have been at it for years now.”

Selene asks every month. And not once has my answer changed. “I don’t think it is any of your business,” I respond without turning around. My hands pick the golden watch on the vanity and I slide it onto my wrist, clasping it in.

The rut rears its head again, just like it did the last time with Lola by the lake. I have always been able to put it under control, even though it causes me great discomfort and pain. But for some reason…

“But it is,” she insists, walking around to me. “I live in the packhouse and I don’t think I am comfortable with strangers coming in all the time to some banquet I do not even care about. This is…”

“We both know this isn’t about the banquet,” I mutter, turning around to face her. “And it is just like I told you the last time, don’t do this anymore.”

Her hand moves slowly, reaching for the collar of my silk shirt. But just then, the door pushes open and Dorian, my Beta strides in. Right behind him is Jerek, my Gamma, with his usual mischievous glint in his eyes.

Selene’s hands drop to her side at once and she takes a step back, putting a respectable distance between us. “Dorian,” she chirps, walking into his arms. Her mate. He kisses the top of her head and Jerek rolls his eyes.

“This packhouse should only exist for the unmated, don’t you think?” Jerek asks, walking to my bed. He is about to jump into it when he realizes who owns it, slowly doing a retrace of steps.

“You should stop hoeing around first,” Selene says smoothly. “Maybe then, you will find your mate.”

“I am willing to bet that she will reject him once she discovers that he has slept with almost all the women in the Blackwater pack,” Jake jokes, his hands unconsciously playing with Selene’s hair. He loves and adores her. I doubt Selene feels the same way, but I desperately hope she does.

“I’ve got to make some final touches to my hair,” she says, dancing out of her mate’s arms. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

I wait until she disappears through the doors before I face the men who have been by my side from the beginning. They have a look on their faces that tells me this isn’t some routine visit minutes before the banquet.

“Say it.”

Dorian folds his arms across his chest. “You gave you the list for the banquet, Kael.”

“I didn’t make many changes.”

“And that is the issue,” he pushed. “You always let us handle it because you really do not care about the invited women as long as they can contain your rut. But…you added one name yourself this time around.”

Jerek leans against the bookshelf, watching. “Lola Veyne,” he says and oddly, I stifle the urge to wrap a hand around his throat and toss him out through my window with the way he says her name. “Her family has never been inside the packhouse before. Why her?”

“It is my banquet.”

Dorian looks up at me. “Is there a reason, Kael? Should we prepare for anything?”

“Yes,” I reply, sliding my phone into my pocket. “Dinner. We have guests tonight that would love to meet their hosts.”

Crossing the space, I head out through the doors, conscious of the fact that they walk out after me. The chatter from the hall reaches us at the other side of the door, different tones and voices mingling in the air, their laughter soft, a little bit on the pretend side.

But I cannot hear her. Isn’t she here yet?

The door pushes open just as my presence is announced by the warrior and silence stretches across the space. There are only a dozen women. Twelve ladies who think they all stand a chance to spend the weekend with me.

I can smell their arousal from a mile away, the heat coming to a peak in this room.

Yet, they are not the ones that matter. Not when the thirteenth girl is in their midst.

I see the wine ribbon first, surprisingly blending with her fiery red hair. And then, at her throat, a soft scarf thrown back, becoming one with the dress. The color of the pack’s seal.

The dress is simple, yet elegant, the dark red catching the candlelight. Her skin glows softly and her eyes search the gazes of everyone seated.

Lola.

Her eyes look uncomfortable and I can read her thoughts of her body. She thinks she doesn’t belong here, but I think the opposite. Their eyes regard me, including hers, as I walk closer to the table and take my place at the head, while Dorian and Jerek flank me.

Selene seats beside her mate, looking bored and unbothered. Dorian leans in to her to whisper something. Her eyes don't light up in the way I know it does, but her lips move in laughter and her gaze meets mine.

The servants walk into the room to serve the food and in the middle of that, I notice the girl across the table. She has her eyes on Lola, who is sitting right next to her. And there is no hint of pleasure in her eyes.

Only the opposite.

I watch as the idea settles in her eyes. I try to do something, but I am a tad too late, as her hands cover the stem of the wine glass on the table. She turns in a heat beat towards Lola, and the wine spills all over her dress.

“Oh God, Lola!” Her mouth hangs open and her eyes stare up at her with fake remorse. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…shit. I am the clumsiest person alive.”

Lola doesn’t answer, but I see the burn in her eyes. The chair scrapes the ground as she gets on her feet and rushes out of the hall down the hallway.

I lean into Jerek. “Find out who she is,” I murmur, nudging to the girl. “I am in the mood to get mean.”

Jerek looks up to ask what I mean, but I get on my feet and walk into the dimly lit hallway as well.