Chosen by the Wolf (BBW Steamy Werewolf Shifter FMMMMM Menage Romance Novella) (2 page)

BOOK: Chosen by the Wolf (BBW Steamy Werewolf Shifter FMMMMM Menage Romance Novella)
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We finally arrived at an upper-scale restaurant I’d seen in passing, Levairre’s. I knew that some of the rich kids from my school dined here, but that was about it. The entire building reeked of money, and as he held the door open for me, I was all but overwhelmed with the rich, stunning atmosphere.

 

“Two, for Blackwood,” he told the hostess. “Special.”

 

She turned to him quickly, and I noticed some sort of confused recognition in her eyes. “Of course, sir. Right this way.”

 

“Excuse me, miss,” a boisterous man with graying hair and a bulging abdomen declared from within the crowd around us. “My wife and I have been waiting for thirty minutes, AND we had a reservation.”

 

“I’m afraid that you will have to wait a little longer, sir. Only another ten minutes.”

 

“But who is this? He just gets to walk in and stroll to a seat, in front of the rest of us?” He waved his arms to indicate the crowd, who was now leering at Peter.

 

The hostess opened her mouth to protest, but Peter turned on him, glowering into his face. “I am sorry to have inconvenienced you, but I’m afraid I am on some
pressing
business. You see, this girl’s entire family just died in a rather horrible plane crash, and they were old, dear friends of mine.”

 

He indicated me with a wave, and the man turned to face me with his beady little eyes, now filled with more confusion than rage.

 

“This has been a very distressing few days for the two of us. I would highly recommend that you
do not test me
.”

 

The crowd turned away, and the loudmouth fellow stammered, before throwing a conflicted look my way. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he quietly managed before sitting back down with his wife.

 

The hostess, hiding her embarrassment admirably, led us across the restaurant. I turned to my partner for the night and spoke: “You didn’t need to do that, really. I don’t mind waiting.”

 

“Nonsense. The owner is an old friend. Dmitri Bierson and I go way back.”

 

We were seated in an intimate corner in the most comfortable booth I have ever occupied in my life. Soon, a burly man with large, warm eyes and a puff of sandy hair greeted us, conspicuously dressed closer to my host than the wait staff.

 

“Peter, my brother! How long has it been?”

 

“Much too long,” Peter grinned as they clasped hands into a strong hug before he sat back down. “How is Yvonne? Is she still as ravishing as ever?”

 

“The jewel of my life!” The man enthusiastically answered. “And who is this radiant young woman with you, hmm?”

 

“Dmitri, meet Monica. She will be accompanying me for tonight.”

 

“Monica! Such a beautiful name for such a beautiful young lady,” Dmitri smiled and bowed his head. “On what occasion do I have the pleasure?”

 

I turned my gaze downward, and Peter glanced over at me for a moment. “We have suffered a mutual loss, and I was hoping we could enjoy a quiet meal together in your fine establishment.” He turned to take in the ambiance for a second, his confidant smile washing over the immaculate, modern design of the restaurant.

 

“Of course, of course,” Dmitri responded, his tone dropping to a somber, respectful note. “I wish all my love in your trying times. Everything will be taken care of. Hansel!” He snapped his fingers at a server, passing by with a martini on a tray. “Hansel, see to it that Mr. Blackwood and his lovely young woman,” he paused to wink at me, “have the dinner of their lives. Transfer all other tables to myself. I’ll have them taken care of, and will compensate you personally.”

 

“That won’t be necessary, Dmitri. I’ll see that he is properly taken care of,” Peter spoke.

 

“Your generosity is always appreciated.” He turned back to Hansel, still holding the martini on its tray. “You.
Immediately
see to the needs of my friends. Which table is this for?”

 

~

 

The meal was restrained in portions but extravagant in taste, and we started with a plate of egg rolls that was more expensive than most of the steaks I had ever eaten. I dreaded to think of how expensive the entire meal was, even after he encouraged me to pick a dessert at the end. After having my fill of salad, lemon-glazed salmon, and side sampler dishes with borderline pretentious names I could barely remember, I finally settled on a slice of a rich, delicious-sounding chocolate confection.

 

Peter, on the other hand, barely touched the egg rolls and turned away the salads and soups offered. He delighted in a thick slab of immaculate meat, a delicious-smelling New York Strip that was conspicuously still bloody. Washing it down with an expensive vintage of red wine – which Dmitri had decided to graciously present himself.

 

While I expected dining with Peter to be strange, quiet, and honestly a little awkward, I couldn’t help but feel the opposite. He was almost endearing in a way, and I found myself pouring out my heart to him halfway through our meal together. He took it in stride, never seeming to simply feign interest or grow even the slightest bit bored. He was receptive, understanding, and took strides to treat me as if I were an equal.

 

And he was right. By the time he dropped me off at home, I could already tell I didn’t want to go back. I even considered telling him so on the way, but decided to try and separate myself for a few days to collect my thoughts. The man was close to double my age, but he made me feel more comfortable than any boy ever had. And it was only on the drive back that I realized that I hadn’t thought about my family for most of the meal.

 

It surprised me. What kind of effect had this man had on me that he could settle my grieving heart so quickly? My entire world had come crashing down, and with one simple dinner he had wiped away my fears.

 

I had
laughed
during our time together. Until then, I had thought it would have taken me weeks to muster a smile, let alone a
laugh
.

 

And when he walked me to the front door, the sedan idling in the driveway, he took my face into his strong hands and planted his lips to my forehead. I realized that I had wanted him to kiss me, and that knowledge inspired turmoil inside me.

 

“Thank you for tonight,” he spoke with a slight husk to his voice, watching my eyes carefully. “As I said...you are free to join me at my manor. Take a few days, and text this number with your answer,” he told me, withdrawing a scrap of paper from his pocket with his number on it. “I will await your response, and hope to see you soon.”

 

When I took that slip of paper and stared into his penetrating but somehow endearing gaze, I had no idea what he had in mind for me. It had been so close that he and his rich elegance had faded away into the footnotes of my life. He might have never come to see me, simply picking up the phone if he felt so compelled. But he didn’t – he came, with no guarantee that I was even here, showing up out of the blue to whisk me away from all of this misery.

 

I didn’t realize it then, but I soon fell captivated under his spell...and subject to that man’s crushing, seductive might.

 

~

 

That night, much later, I first saw the wolf.

 

I don’t know what compelled me to take the walk. But I found myself restless, thinking about my parents, about Peter, and everything else that had changed so drastically in my world. I hadn’t even thought to change, as I walked the neighborhood and the long, quiet sidewalk leading towards the covered, enclosed bus stop further up the hill.

 

I felt like someone was watching me, and I sped up. No matter where I went or what I did, the feeling remained, and my eyes kept darting around. I must have looked insane to anybody else out – a young woman, freshman age, in a dress and gazing about like a crazy, paranoid thing…at practically midnight.

 

In hindsight, that’s probably what attracted the mugger. A middle-aged, slender guy in a hoodie, he was smoking a cigarette by the bus stop as I passed. I didn’t think to realize that the buses didn’t
run
at this hour, nor did I hear him put out his light and quietly follow me for fifteen seconds.

 

“Hi, Miss?” I heard a friendly voice from behind, and whipped around on the spot.

 

“Sir, I need you to leave me al–” I started, my eyes suddenly catching on the blade that he held out in his hand.

 

“Lady,” he gruffly told me, all kindness sapped from his voice suddenly, “you’re gonna come back here with me.”

 

“Oh god,” I murmured, hesitantly gazing at the blade. “Please don’t do this. I just lost my parents.”

 

“I lost my parents too. About five years, ago, but still. Thanks for opening old wounds. Now you’re
really
pissed me off.”

 

He threateningly held the knife higher.

 

“Like I said…you’re coming
right back here
with me,” he motioned to the bus stop with the other hand.

 

My eyes instantly scoured the streets.
Of course
nobody was out at this hour. Who would be? Why was
I
even out here?

 

Timidly, I considered bolting, but I knew he was faster and stronger. There wasn’t any other choice, so I stepped in the direction of the bus stop. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt me…but I knew that was a useless thought, even at the time.

 

“That’s right. That’s a good girl,” he told me. “You got any money? Your phone? I’m gonna need
everything.

 

“I don’t have anything,” I told him. “Just my house key, that’s it.”

 

“Oh yeah? That’s a shame. Surely there’s
another way
you can pay me, since you’ve been so cheap. After all, you broke my heart with that
parents
thing. Now I’m gonna be all depressed tonight.” He leered at me, and I could see him tracing my body in the dress. “Unless you make me forget all about my dead parents. Hey, two birds with one stone! And this little birdie’s lookin’
real
good.”

 

We were back at the enclosed bus stop, and he looked around quickly. “Get inside,” he told me, “and you’ve got ten seconds to hike up that pretty dress of yours–”

 

I heard the growl before I saw the flash of fur. The would-be rapist screamed as his knife clattered to the ground, his forearm caught in the jaws of a furious,
large
wolf. I heard an audible
crunch
as it tightened its bite, and he kicked it furiously again and again until it finally let go.

 

“What the
FUCK?
” The stranger screeched, trying for the knife on the ground. Maybe he thought the same thing I did a minute ago – that he’d never be fast enough or strong enough to overpower his enemy.

 

Or maybe he was just faster thinking than I was.

 

But it was a poor decision either way. The wolf immediately lunged, clamping onto his
other
arm, the one reaching for the weapon. Bucking his head, his fangs made short work of the criminal’s remaining arm, drawing blood and cracking bone.

 

Screaming, he pulled himself free as soon as the wolf let go, throwing himself into a frantic sprint down the street. I could see his torn arms hanging by his sides, bouncing painfully and drowning his panic in horrendous cries of pain.

 

I gazed at the creature that had driven him off, and it turned to me, having inadvertently cornered me in the bus stop. I resisted every impulse to freak out, frozen on the spot as it quietly looked at me, its piercing eyes staring deep into my very own – into my soul.

 

My hand was frozen near it, and it quietly licked my fingers before prancing out, into the night.

 

“What the fuck indeed,” I murmured to myself as I watched the wolf disappear into the shadows.

 

~

 

The strange encounter – my savior, the wolf – was another strange distraction that complicated my thoughts. I managed four miserable, confused days before I finally texted the number he had handed me. The ice cream stayed untouched in the freezer, and I could barely stand flicking on Netflix. All I could think about was the bizarre encounter, coupled with how Peter made me feel while we were together.

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