Stunner (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress 0.75)

Chapter Two

The noise level grew to a dull roar, driven by the steady flow of alcohol. I sipped from a glass of whiskey and coke, watching the antics of several drunken guests. I was late to the party myself, having just arrived. I was definitely behind as far as drinks went.

I sat on a folding chair near the small fire pit in the backyard. Coming to Raoul’s birthday party had been low on my priority list. I doubt he would have noticed my absence. I only showed because of Shaz’s insistence that I make an appearance. Where was Shaz anyway?

The party was made up mostly of werewolves with a few humans sprinkled in here and there. Whoever had made the guest list was either ballsy or stupid. It was most likely Raoul. I’d never mix humans with this many rowdy, drunken werewolves. That was just asking for trouble.

Music mingled with the steady hum of voices, several conversations taking place around me at once. I half listened to Zak and Julian as they crudely sized up their chances of getting laid before the night was over. Young, horny and drunk. Nothing that came out of their mouths would surprise me.

“What do you want to bet that I can do not only that blonde over there, but her friend too?” Julian swigged from a bottle of beer, nodding towards a woman standing near the barbecue with a hotdog in hand.

“Nice choice,” Zak replied thoughtfully. “She looks pretty good eating that thing. I don’t see her friend going for it though. Too uptight.”

“Fifty bucks?” Julian challenged with a smirk.

Zak watched the blonde take a bite of her hotdog before nodding slowly. “You’re on.”

That was enough guy talk for me. I was not listening to this crap all night. Without a word to either of them, I vacated my seat and headed for the kitchen, draining the last of my drink as I went. I paused to make small talk as I made my way through. The party vibe was strong in those around me but I just wasn’t feeling it.

I bypassed the cheap whiskey sitting on the table for all to partake of. I knew where Raoul kept the good stuff. I doubted the location had changed since I moved out.

Living with the Alpha wolf had been great back in the beginning, when I was a new werewolf and just sixteen years old. When I reached adulthood, many things had changed, including the way Raoul looked at me. After spending a few years in and out of his bed with grandeur delusions of a happily ever after, I was forced to accept that I had been little more to Raoul than another conquest.

I slipped through the crowd gathered around the large dining room table to the den just off the kitchen. The door was closed, as I expected. I grabbed the doorknob and finding it unlocked, ducked inside.

Flicking on the light, I surveyed the room. Small but cozy, it was furnished with a cluttered desk, stacked bookshelf and an old leather sofa. Memories lived in this room. I ignored them, seeking out the stash of expensive booze occupying most of the bookshelf. If anything would drown an unwelcome memory, it would be the pricey whiskey I generously poured into my glass.

I sipped from the heady elixir, savoring the way it warmed my blood. In no hurry to return to the party, I browsed through the books stacked on the shelf above the liquor. Had Raoul ever really read all the Shakespeare he had or was that just for show?

I skimmed through a few pages of Romeo and Juliet. It reminded me of tenth grade English class and my deceptively tiny but tough as nails teacher, Mrs. G. She scared the bejeezus out of me. I never did miss a homework assignment though.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a romantic.” Raoul’s low timbre startled me out of the tragic tale.

I shoved the book back into its place on the shelf. “I’m not. I’m only here for the booze.” I held up my glass for him to see. No, I wasn’t a romantic. He had cured me of that long ago.

“Ah, you read my mind.” He held up an empty scotch glass and swung the door closed behind him. Crossing to the bookshelf, he refilled his glass from one of the pricey bottles.

I sidestepped him, ensuring he didn’t have to get too close. He raised a dark brow at the motion but said nothing. I could feel the watchfulness of his wolf as it looked out at me from behind his coal black eyes. My wolf leaped against the surface of my being in response. It was difficult to keep from reacting to him.

“Happy birthday, Raoul,” I said coolly. “I trust it’s been everything you wanted and more.”

He tilted his head to the side and gave me an appraising once over, taking in my tight jeans and cle**age baring tank top. His jet black hair was long, falling to his shoulders. The length did nothing to diminish his masculinity. Tall with the frame of a football player, Raoul was all wolf and all man, try as I might to forget.