Stefan’s POV
“The guy was like twice his size. And he just stood there, chest puffed out—”
“Mari!” I groan, hoping to bring a stop to her storytelling. But she’s bent on embarrassing me, it seems. It doesn’t help that her audience seems thoroughly entranced.
“And tells him that he would have to go through him first.”
They all burst into laughter—something they’ve all been doing ever since Levi asked Mari to spill a few details about my childhood. I wouldn’t call what’s coming out of her mouth a few details. If someone was taking notes, they would already have enough material to write my biography.
“I appreciated him sticking out for me, but I really wish he hadn’t. He got so many scars on account of my bullies.”
“That’s how Alphas are made,” Andreas cracks, raising his glass to me as if in a toast.
“He is a true one,” Mari says, lifting her glass too. She meets my gaze. “Still saving me to this day. I’m grateful.”
Something passes between us as our eyes connect. I give her a small smile and lift my glass to her too. It must be the nostalgia.
While I was saving her from her bullies—or at least attempting to—she was saving me from the loneliness. Despite being the Alpha’s son, I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid in the pack. And that had everything to do with my birth. While my father’s first Luna was dead, her family was very much alive and wanted to make sure I didn’t eclipse their son.
The families in the pack sided with the first Luna’s family—and somehow, even the kids knew to alienate me. That didn’t leave me with a lot of friends at the end of the day. Mari was teased and bullied by the neighbourhood kids in our city residence for being a housekeeper’s daughter. I was an outcast in my world. It wasn’t hard forming a friendship.
“Always saving the day and never having enough fun,” Hanna says, draining her drink and getting to her feet. She reaches for Levi and grabs his hand. If she sees the surprised look on his face, she doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she focuses on Gwen. “I’ll take this one, bring your man to the dance floor, Gwen. Let’s see if he can dance as well as he can fight.”
Levi is trying to tug his hand from her grip. “I don’t want to dance.”
“Come on, Levi. Don’t be a sour sport.”
He gives her a firm shake of his head. She finally lets go of him, rolling her eyes. I notice Andreas watching the exchange. Maybe I’m seeing things, but I think he releases a lot of tension when Levi successfully turns down his sister. I don’t have a sister but I can guess what’s going on here. Did Andreas warn him off Hanna? Not that I think that would be enough to keep Levi off if he was really interested in her. They are all adults, after all…
“Whatever,” Hanna says, turning from Levi and reaching for Mari’s hand. “Mari and I will go down there and find some hunks who know how to have a good time.”
A tug on my arm brings my attention back to Gwen, who is on her feet too. “Come on, let’s go.”
“You want to dance?”
She lifts an eyebrow. “What did you bring me to a nightclub for?”
How can I say no?
A few minutes later, we are in the middle of the action on the jam-packed dance floor. Gwen wraps her hands around my neck while I place mine on the small of her back. She sways, moving to the beat. She’s looking up at me, her head thrown back, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Is she focusing on the music or teasing me?
I stop wondering and do what my body tells me to. Swooping down, I slam my lips onto hers. A sound of surprise rises in her throat. I only get a couple of kisses in before she pulls back, her eyes widening at me. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you.”
“Here?” she asks, casting a glance around.
“Given what I can see going on around us, that’s quite chaste,” I point out.
It’s true. A few paces from us, I can see a woman humping a man’s leg. But with the way they are locked in a tight embrace and how her dress is bunched up around the top of her thighs, it could be anything but the leg…
Gwen tilts her head to the side. “Yeah, well, it’ll start chaste. Then quickly go downhill.”
I arch an eyebrow and increase the pressure of my hand against her back. “Is that so?”
She nods, her bottom lip going between her teeth again. She really needs to stop doing that. I reach up and free it using my thumb. “Well then, maybe we should go someplace where it’s okay to let things go downhill.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “I haven’t even seen your dance skills yet. Maybe if you impress, I can think about your proposal.”
“You want me to work for it?”
“Dancing is great foreplay, you know.”
Fuck, this woman is going to be the death of me.
The next several minutes are what I would call pure torture. She is rubbing all over me—not in a way someone concerned with chastity would. And when she turns around and presses her back to my front, her ass pushing back against my obvious hard-on, I’m more than ready to find us an empty room. But before I can do that, she turns around and says, “I gotta rush to the ladies.”
She’s disappearing through the crowd before I can show her to a private bathroom. In a private room we can use right after she is done.
I figure I can get a drink at the bar while she is gone. But before I can leave the dance floor, Mari appears in front of me. “Can I have this dance?” she asks.
“Couldn’t find a hunk who knows how to have a good time?”
“None of them is you,” she says, stepping forward and placing her left hand on my shoulder.
A thrum travels down my arm from where she is touching me. Is it because she is a shifter?
“I know you werewolves can be quite territorial,” she says, leaning in. Her upper body pushes up against my arm as she brings her lips close to my ear. “Do you think my sister will mind if I dance with you?”
Will Gwen mind? If I could think straight, maybe I would answer her question. But, suddenly, the only thing my senses seem to be focused on is her scent. She has a distinct scent. It’s different from a human’s or a werewolf’s. But other than that, there’s something else.
She laughs. “Look at your face. Don’t worry, I know my place. How about we get a drink at the bar before she gets back?”
Relief whooshes through me. Forget what Gwen would think about it. If any other woman had come up to me, I would have turned them down right away. So why am I relieved that Mari doesn’t push it? It’s as if some part of me knows I wouldn’t have said no. That same part that wants to take a deep breath just to catch more of that scent of hers.
“I could do with a drink,” I tell her. She has no idea how badly.
We make it to the bar and I ask the bartender to make us a couple of cocktails.
“I waited,” Mari says as she leans against the counter, facing me.
“What?”
“I waited for you to come and save me. When I was taken. Funny, huh? You were just a kid. But, in my young mind, I really believed that you could save me. You had. Many times.”
“I looked, you know. I would have started sooner, but—”
“I know. Your father imprisoned you.”
I nod.
“You were my hero when we were young, and even now, you are my saviour. I owe you my life.”
I shake my head. “No, don’t say that.”
She reaches forward and touches my hand. “It’s true.”
This time, when the thrum travels through my body, I know it has nothing to do with what she is. She is affecting me. Her touch, her scent. I have a sudden urge to wrap my fingers around her hand and pull her closer.
I quickly snatch my hand from her grip and stuff it in my pocket. “You don’t owe me anything, Mari. We are friends. We should have each other’s backs.”
The bartender presents us with the cocktails. I wrap my free hand around mine, my grip too tight on the stem.
Something is seriously wrong with me.