Penelope POV
"So the queen of Rogue Pack is doing the strong independent woman act now?"
Lucas steps into my path. He smells like cheap cologne and stale sweat.
"Refusing friendly advances from other Alphas?"
He tilts his head. A smirk twists his lips.
"What is the matter, Penelope? Too proud to play nice?"
I do not blink. I look at the grease on his collar.
"That is right," I say.
I step closer. The heels of my boots click against the stone floor.
"I am not interested in bottom-of-the-barrel trash like you."
Lucas stiffens. The smirk vanishes.
He shifts his weight. His shoulders broaden. He tries to push his Alpha pheromones into the air between us. It smells like rotting wood. It is weak. It is pathetic.
I do not move an inch.
I drop my chin. I release my own aura.
The pres
