Runaway Bride:A Deal Gone Wrong

The Curse

Genesis's POV

The Sterling Bar was my home away from home.

Not in the sense of peace, for there was such a thing no more, but a place where the noise of others would drown out the screaming silence in my head.

Within that haze of smoke from burning cigarettes and the murmur of human laughter, one could become oblivious to all thoughts for some moments and act just like another ordinary man nursing a whiskey.

But I wasn't just any man.

That's what the curse took care of.

I sit back in the dim corner booth and ran my finger over the rim of the untouched glass before me. My grey eyes scanned the room, taking in the meaningless chatter and the occasional eruptions of drunken laughter.

Two men were arguing over a game of darts somewhere near the bar. A woman was laughing much too loudly at something her companion had just said at another table. Unremarkable lives.

Unremarkable dramas.

I envied them.

My hybrid wolf stirred uneasily within me, as restless as ever. It clawed at the walls of my mind with its discontent, sharp and grating as ever. Not having a mate—that soul-deep connection every wolf carved had left a great hole inside me. A hole I had long since accepted would never be filled.

Half-breed wolf… that was the curse affixed to me. That was what had thrust me into a life of exile, self-willed.

The pack tolerated me because I was their Alpha—first and foremost, their leader—but, of course, I could sense the whispers followed after, the doubt of their eyes in my direction: "An Alpha not with a mate—broken, not reliable.".

I lifted the glass to my lips and let the whiskey burn down my throat. It didn't help. It never did.

Then it was that I saw her, working through the crowd in this noisy bar, a tray balanced on her hand as she did so with quickly purposeful steps.

Her uniform had stuck to her curves, hugging her slim waist and hips so wide that one could not keep his or her eyes from her. Long strands of golden-brown hair fell cascading down her back and shone as she passed into shafts of light, filtering between the moving bodies of the people.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about her at first glance. Just a waitress, blending in with the din of chaos in the bar. But my wolf went silent.

She had moved closer, hesitantly taking a few feet before she came to a stop and looked up at me with uncertain wide green eyes.

She had asked for my order. Her voice was steady, though the slight trembling of her hands betrayed her. I didn't utter a word for a beat, letting my eyes stay on hers. She was trying so hard to appear unruffled, but I could pick up on the tiny catch in her breathing.

Her eyes flicked away as if to avoid meeting mine. Professional and efficient, yet cautious. She was wary of me, but she hadn't flinched.

The smallest flicker of—something crossed my mind as she melted into the crowd. Admiration, perhaps? No, not quite the word. Curiosity, maybe. Or the quiet way she had held herself under my regard?

I didn't let the thought sit.

The night wore on; inside the bar, the frenetic dynamics gave way to an unhurried laxity as the hours crept by.

My glass was empty now, though I'd never gotten around to ordering a new one. I'd been too busy watching her.

She moved with fluid, purposeful ease, even as exhaustion began to seep into her footsteps. Her green eyes darted back and forth about the room, always looking for what she should do next.

It wasn't until her shift finally started winding down that I realized there was a guy sitting next to her—likely another one of the employees, flamboyant and vivacious with lavender-hued hair. He looked like he'd dragged her out onto the dance floor.

She resisted at first, shaking her head with a small, tired smile. But he pouted and pleaded, his hands clasped together in front of him in an exaggerated display of mock desperation. She rolled her eyes but laughed, a soft sound that caught my attention even over the music.

And then she joined him.

I couldn't look away.

She moved at first hesitantly, her steps small and controlled. But as the beat changed, shifted to something slower, more sultry, her body began to follow it. Long, honey-colored hair whirled about her in great fanning circles of movement, catching the light and glowing like molten gold as she danced, her hips swayed with liquid, hypnotic movements.

The music seemed to seize her. Her hips made languid circles as her waist dipped and twisted, like water. Then, when the bass dropped, she twerked, fluidly working with confident sensuality, her curves under my eyes, every eye in the room drawn toward her.

My wolf growled low in my chest.

There was something magnetic in her, wild and unapologetic, that made it impossible to look away—free and brilliant with her cheeks flushed with laughter as she spun with her companion.

For a moment I was warm

Not the smothering heat of lust nor the fleeting flush of liquor but something much deeper, the lifeline piercing that dark cavern deep within my empty self; in other words something beyond comprehension which I could not dispel.

Envy churned inside of her as her friend leaned in and whispered something in her ear, making her laugh even harder. I had to force myself to look away, ashamed by the irrational spurt of possessiveness that clenched my fists beneath the table.

When the song stopped, she turned away from the dance floor, her face burning. She took the bottle of water off him and smiled down at his thanks before leading the way to the bar, talking.

Her happiness was short-lived.

"Miss Reynolds."

Her head jerked up, and her green eyes went wide as she turned to face me. I stood before her, towering over her small frame with an unreadable expression.

I didn't care, I just followed my instinct as I asked her to sit with me.

She followed me to my booth. Her step faltered for a moment as she settled across from me, smaller somehow against the black leather.

We chatted, but I would not even say we were chatting with each other. Her responses guarded an answer to my questions for decorum sake perhaps at best.

Then she started opening up, her demeanor loosening, so too her smile

I don't think I have smiled since. really. looking at her. well almost.

Now we are back to my question.

Her laughter died instantly. Her green eyes went wide as she stared at me. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

"I'll give you whatever you want," I added, keeping my voice even. "I'll pay you if that's what you need."

She swallowed hard, her eyes dropping to the table as her hands balled and balled in her lap. For a second, I thought she'd say no.

"Okay," she said, barely audible.

A wave of inexplicable relief washed through me.

Her companion came back then, and his expression changed from surprise to distrust as he looked from her to me.

She was quickly whispering something in his ear that I could not hear but whatever she did say had the apparent effect of placating him before he left.

"Your friend seems quite protective of you," I said as she stepped back to the table.

"He's more like a brother," she said. "And he's gay, in case you were wondering."

I hadn't been, but her explanation made me smile.

"Shall we?" I asked, standing and holding out my hand.

She paused a moment before she took it, her fingers vibrating a little against mine.

The only sound in the room was the low hum of the air conditioner. She was standing at the window, her back to me, looking out over the city lights.

I came up behind her slowly, not a sound on the carpet. When I was close enough to feel the heat from her body, I reached out and touched her.

She spun, and I caught her mouth with mine, angling my head back to fit my lips over hers.

Her breath caught, but she did not try to pull away. Her fingers tightened on my shirt, holding on desperately as I urged the kiss even deeper, my taste buds swamped by hers.

Sliding my hands around the base of her spine, I pressed her body to mine and she parted her lips a fraction wider at our bruising, bony contact.

When we fell back onto the bed, I hovered over her, tracing a path of kisses down her neck as she arched beneath me. Her low, husky moans were sending thrills through me, and my wolf growled in approval.

But I froze, pulling back enough to see her eyes.

"Do you want this?" I demanded, my voice barely above a growl.

Her green eyes locked with mine, and I waited.