Knowing he didn't want to spill the beans about which pack I was currently in, I decided to act like he wasn't even there. "Fine, I'll figure it out myself," I muttered, feeling a bit dramatic for added effect. I marched over to his closet, rifling through it as if I were hunting for treasure. I snatched up a shirt and a hoodie, not caring if he threw a fit. After all, he was the one who had undressed me, and his aim with my clothes seemed to be as erratic as his aim with darts—since they were nowhere in sight.
As I made my way to the bathroom, I could feel his eyes boring into my back like laser beams. I shot him a sidelong glance. "What?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Don't mind me, sweet," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Gile and I are just admiring our mate from afar. But it would be a huge favor if you could ditch that fashion disaster you're wrapped in. It's giving us second-hand embarrassment."
I gave him a look that said, "Seriously?" before I stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door with as much force as I could muster. The loud bang was followed by his hearty chuckle, which seemed to follow me even into the bathroom. I could almost hear him saying, "Maybe you'll find your sense of style in there too!"
Determined not to let him get on my nerves, I showered quickly and pulled on his shirt and hoodie. And boy, were they enormous! I had to fold the sleeves up about four times just to see my hands. I gathered my hair into a messy ponytail, then grabbed a black cap I found hanging on a hook. Putting it on hiding my face like I wanted it to and, voilà, my outfit was complete.
Satisfied with my impromptu ensemble, I emerged from the bathroom. "Whoa, sweet, you're really giving me a hard time here," Drake said, his eyes roaming over my outfit with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
I scrunched up my nose at the nickname he'd given me. "Sweet" was the last thing I was. The "sweet" version of me had been buried a long time ago—Alpha Vanvil made sure of that before I finished him off. That sweet version wouldn't have had the courage to do what I did. The sweet me was six feet under buried in the darkness fueled by vengeance. And I would love it to remain like that because sweetness and innocence was not something I needed right now.
The real problem was the shoes—his were so comically large that even trying to make them work was a joke. I tried searching around the room, under the bed on his shoes rack but nothing. "Where are my shoes?" I demanded, turning to Drake, who was now lounging on the bed with an odd smirk.
Drake's eyes twinkled with mischief. "You know, if you keep bending over like that, I'm not sure I'll be able to hold myself back. The hoodie might be long, but it's not long enough to cover everything when you bend."
I shot him a look that could have frozen lava. "Hey, buddy, my eyes are up here," I said, noting that his gaze had strayed to my legs, making me shiver with a mixture of irritation and unexpected delight. "Stupid mate bond," I muttered under my breath, assuming he heard me when he chuckled. The sound wasn't helping my already frazzled nerves.
"You know," he said with a grin, "I could be your feet and carry you wherever you want to go."
I rolled my eyes at his suggestion. Well, if he wasn't going to help me find my shoes, I might as well show him I didn't mind going without them. It wasn't like I'd worn shoes much before. Back at the Blood Moon Pack, I'd been a slave, and the ragged clothes and shoes I had were just what I'd stolen from a girl there before I shifted and escaped.
I turned on my heel and headed for the door. "Hey, not so fast!" Drake called after me, his voice dripping with playful frustration. Looking down at his pants he said, "What am I going to do with this problem you've caused? I can't just follow you around like this."
I knew exactly what he was hinting at and shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't ask you to accompany me." Without waiting for his response, I dashed out of the room, my cheeks burning from his teasing and the way his brown eyes had been looking at me.
I needed to get out of this pack house—wherever it was—before this mate bond thing turned my plans into a total disaster. I hoped that nobody had seen Drake escorting me to his room, especially not the Alpha or Beta of this so-called pack.
Drake's room, apparently located in what was definitely a pack house, was on the third floor. The grand staircase seemed to stretch endlessly as I made my way down, each step taken with the utmost stealth to avoid making any noise. I hoped against hope that no one would be coming up or down the stairs. The last thing I needed was to bump into someone, especially in my current state—looking like a misplaced scarecrow with no shoes.
The cacophony of voices from the kitchen hit me like a wave as I approached the ground floor. It sounded like a small crowd was gathered there, which did nothing for my already heightened nerves. I took a deep breath and made a beeline for the door, trying to stay out of sight. My heart raced as I silently navigated through the hallways, each creak of the floorboards sending a jolt through me.
The thought of encountering anyone, especially in this disheveled state, was unbearable. I maneuvered around corners with exaggerated caution, my mind racing with scenarios of how I'd explain myself if caught. With every step, I hoped the door to the outside would appear sooner rather than later.
As I reached the entrance, the clamor from the kitchen grew louder, intensifying my anxiety. I glanced over my shoulder one last time, bracing myself for any potential interruptions. The door was almost within reach. Just a few more steps and I could escape this chaotic pack house and figure out my next move.
I couldn't believe my luck. Just as I was opening the door, relieved that I hadn't been spotted, I nearly walked straight into a girl about my age. She was impeccably dressed, her clothes clearly indicating she was one of those "girly girls" with a soprano voice that could probably shatter glass. And sure enough, she didn't disappoint.
"AAAH! Why are you wearing my man's clothes?" she shrieked, her voice piercing the air and drawing a crowd of onlookers like moths to a flame. Her scream cut through the hallway, and before I knew it, my stealthy escape plan had gone up in flames.
The girl continued to scream, her words tumbling out in a rapid-fire succession that I couldn't even begin to decipher. The gist of it became clear, though—Drake had a girlfriend, and this was her. And from the way she was carrying on, it seemed she wasn't thrilled about seeing me in her boyfriend's clothes.
I could feel my frustration boiling over. Not only was I stuck in a pack I didn't want to be in, but now I was being yelled at by a self-absorbed drama queen. My irritation flared up, and before I could think twice, I landed a punch squarely on her jaw. The impact was enough to knock her out cold, and she crumpled to the floor, giving me a brief moment of blessed silence.
The crowd of onlookers stared at me in stunned silence for a moment before some of them started giving me thumbs up, as if I'd done them a favor. Apparently, in this pack, knocking out one of their own earned you a round of applause. I was starting to suspect that Drake wasn't the only lunatic around here.
With the unexpected support of the crowd and a path cleared, I took my chance and bolted for the exit. My mind raced with the realization that I was dealing with a pack that seemed to reward chaos and disorder. Whatever pack this was, it was definitely not where I wanted to be.
As I made my way toward the forest just beyond the pack house, I suddenly bumped into someone. The collision almost made me lose my balance, but the person I'd run into quickly reached out, steadying me with a firm grasp. The electric tingle that shot through the place he touched and radiated throughout my body was unmistakable. Even before he spoke, I knew exactly who it was.
"Whoa there, sweet," Drake said, his voice laced with amusement. "Watch where you're going. And where do you think you're running off to?"
I quickly pulled away from his touch, my heart racing. "Why aren't you with your girlfriend?" The question came out sharper and more bitter than I'd intended.
Drake's eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Oh, so someone's feeling a little jealous?" he teased, his grin widening. "Don't worry, my sweet. You're the only one I've set my eyes upon."
I tried to brush past him, but he wasn't having any of it. With a swift movement, he caught my arm and gently but firmly pushed me against a nearby tree. His voice dropped to a low, husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "I won't ask again. Where were you going?"
His proximity was intoxicating, his breath warm against my skin. As he leaned in, it felt as though he intended to kiss me. The world seemed to shrink down to just the two of us, the forest and the pack house fading into the background. My heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty, torn between the desire to remain close and the impulse to escape.
His eyes locked onto mine, searching for an answer, while his face hovered dangerously close to mine. The tension was electric, charged with the promise of something deeper and more intimate. The choice was now mine—whether to push him away or let the moment unfold.
Before I could react or answer, the charged atmosphere was abruptly shattered by someone clearing their throat. "Alpha, something urgent. Come up," the person called out.
Wait, did he just say "Alpha"? Who was he referring to? It certainly wasn't me, so it must be Drake! The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—he never told me he was the Alpha. The bastard. He'd kept that crucial detail from me.
I shoved him away, my frustration boiling over. "Alpha? Why didn't you mention that?" I demanded, my voice laced with anger.
Drake shrugged, his expression unfazed. "You never asked, and I didn't think it was important to mention," he said nonchalantly.
I turned to the guy who had interrupted us, who was now staring at the ground with a hint of embarrassment. "Which pack is this?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Dark Moon," he replied quietly.
The moment his words registered, my world came crashing down. I shouldn't be here—especially not with Drake. If he found out who I truly was, I had no doubt the mate bond would mean nothing. The charming façade would vanish, and I'd be facing the full wrath of the Alpha.
But if Drake was indeed the Alpha of Dark Moon, why wasn't he the menacing figure I'd expected? The charming smile and teasing words seemed at odds with the image of a ruthless leader. I looked at him again, trying to reconcile the charming guy in front of me with the formidable Alpha he was supposed to be.
As Drake's gaze shifted back to the man who had interrupted us, I couldn't ignore the underlying darkness in his eyes. The gentle demeanor was just a surface layer; beneath it, there was an unmistakable aura of authority and ruthlessness. The balance of power was clear, and the danger of crossing him was real.
My heart raced as I processed the new reality. This was no ordinary pack, and Drake was no ordinary mate. The stakes had just been raised, and the path forward was anything but certain.
Even though I was acutely aware of the peril I was in, having just discovered that Drake was the Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack, I couldn't deny the glimmer of opportunity that presented itself. The realization was a double-edged sword; on one hand, it exposed me to an immense risk, but on the other, it offered a potent tool to exact my long-awaited revenge. Drake, my mate, now stood as the key to unlocking my plans, a pivotal piece in my intricate web of vengeance.
The Dark Moon Pack, under Drake's rule, was a force to be reckoned with, and here I was, poised on the precipice of using their formidable leader to advance my own schemes. My mind raced with possibilities. If I could manipulate Drake—if I could leverage our mate bond to my advantage—my meticulously crafted plans for revenge could finally come to fruition. The thought of using him in this way was both thrilling and terrifying. The stakes had never been higher.
But first, I had to ensure that my true identity remained a secret. My father had gone to great lengths to obscure my existence. To the world, I was nothing more than a phantom, a hidden shadow of the Moonshine Pack's lore. Despite the fact that I was the rightful heir and a female Alpha, my father's machinations had ensured that only a select few knew the truth. Most believed my younger brother was the sole heir to the Moonshine Pack, making it relatively easy to keep my identity concealed.
Drake, with all his charisma and charm, was indeed the Alpha of Dark Moon, a fact that complicated my plans significantly. His reputation was one of ruthless efficiency and strategic brilliance, qualities that made him notoriously difficult to manipulate. The prospect of using the mate bond to my advantage was enticing, but it came with significant risks. The bond could either be my greatest ally or my worst adversary. If Drake uncovered my true identity, the entire foundation of my plans would collapse, and any hope of vengeance would be lost.
I needed to tread carefully. Every interaction with Drake had to be meticulously planned to ensure that my true identity remained hidden. The mate bond offered a unique leverage, but it also posed a substantial risk. Falling for Drake—or allowing him to discover who I really was—could jeopardize everything I had worked for. The emotional stakes were high, but I had no room for error. Emotions, especially those involving love or personal attachment, were luxuries I could not afford. My resolve had to be unwavering; I had to use every advantage at my disposal without letting my feelings—or Drake's discovery of my true identity—derail my carefully laid plans.
As I stood there, watching Drake's charming façade, I felt a growing sense of unease mixed with a twisted anticipation. The charming, teasing Alpha I saw before me was a stark contrast to the ruthless leader I had heard about. I had expected a cold, intimidating figure, someone who commanded respect through fear and authority. Instead, I saw a man whose eyes sparkled with mischief and warmth. Yet, there was something beneath the surface—an aura of control and darkness that hinted at the true nature of his power.
Drake's charisma was disarming, but I couldn't afford to be swayed by it. Every interaction with him needed to be calculated, every word weighed carefully. The mate bond was a powerful tool, one that could be used to manipulate and influence. I had to exploit it without allowing it to manipulate me. If I could play my cards right, I could use Drake's position to further my revenge without ever revealing my true self.
I recalled the rumors and stories about the Dark Moon Pack—tales of an Alpha who was both feared and respected. I had envisioned someone who ruled with an iron fist, a figure whose mere presence commanded obedience. Instead, I found myself face-to-face with a man who seemed to embody both the charm of a lover and the cunning of a strategist. It was a dangerous combination, one that made him both a valuable asset and a formidable opponent.
Despite the danger, I couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration. The prospect of using Drake to execute my plans for revenge was intoxicating. He was a key player in a game that had been set in motion long before I ever crossed paths with him. The opportunity to turn the mate bond to my advantage was a chance I couldn't afford to pass up.
But I had to remain vigilant. The risk of exposure was ever-present, and the potential consequences of my true identity being revealed were severe. I had worked too hard and sacrificed too much to let my plans be undone by a single mistake. My focus had to remain sharp, my movements calculated. The mate bond could be a powerful ally, but only if I used it wisely and kept my true self hidden.
As I considered my next steps, I knew that I needed to be strategic in my approach. The Dark Moon Pack was a formidable force, and Drake's role as Alpha added a layer of complexity to my plans. My goal was clear: to use the mate bond to manipulate him while ensuring that my true identity remained concealed. The path to revenge was fraught with peril, but it was a path I was prepared to navigate with caution and cunning.
In the end, my plans for revenge would only succeed if I could maintain control of the situation and keep Drake—and everyone else—completely in the dark about who I truly was. The stakes had never been higher, and the game was just beginning. With Drake's help, I might finally achieve the vengeance I had sought for so long. But for now, I had to play my part carefully, ensuring that every move was calculated and every decision made with the utmost precision.
I glanced at Drake, my mind racing as I struggled to process the whirlwind of revelations. The stakes were undeniably high, and the realization that I was entrenched in the heart of Dark Moon Pack only added a perilous edge to my plans. For now, however, I had to concentrate on the immediate situation at hand.
Drake's gaze shifted to the man who had interrupted us, and his tone brooked no argument. "Go ahead, I will follow up with," he ordered sharply. The man's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and urgency as he nodded quickly and scurried away, clearly eager to comply with the Alpha's directive.
With the other man gone, Drake's attention returned to me. His eyes, a mixture of frustration and determination, held my gaze. "This," he said, gesturing between us, "isn't over. Whatever we had going earlier—" He paused, his voice softening slightly though his intensity remained palpable. "—it's still very much in play."
My heart skipped a beat at the thought of our earlier encounter, the electrifying touch that had sent shivers through me. The mate bond was undeniably powerful, but I had to remind myself that this was not about romance. It was a strategic advantage in my quest for revenge. I had to use it as a tool, not let it become a weakness.
Drake's voice took on a firm, commanding tone, yet there was a hint of warmth that I couldn't ignore. "As much as I like you wearing my clothes," he said, his eyes lingering on me with a playful smirk, "you need to change into something more appropriate."
He gestured towards the room in the pack house. "I've set out clothes for you in our room. Go change into them."
"Our room?" I thought, a small flicker of irritation mingled with my surprise. Since when had his room become our room? But as I looked down at the oversized clothes I wore, it was clear that a change was necessary. The attire I had on was far too casual, and Drake was right; I needed something more fitting for the situation. Besides, with my plan to stay put and use him to further my revenge, I wasn't going anywhere just yet.
I nodded curtly and turned toward the room, my mind already racing with the implications of Drake's words. The idea that he had set out clothes specifically for me, in what he now considered "our room," was both infuriating and oddly endearing. Still, I needed to focus. My plans for vengeance were too important to be derailed by personal frustrations or the complications of our current dynamic.
As I entered the pack house to change, I heard Drake's voice from the other side as he was heading to where the guy who had called him had gone. "Don't even think about running off," he called out, his tone half-joking and half-serious. "If you try, I'll hunt you down to the ends of the earth."
The threat carried an undertone that made it sound more like a promise than a warning. Despite my irritation at his presumption, a wry smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Too bad he doesn't know I'm not planning on leaving him," I muttered to myself as I started to change. My plan was far from simple escape. I needed Drake's position and influence to carry out my revenge. I would use every advantage at my disposal, including the mate bond, to ensure that my plans came to fruition.
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