Zion |✔️ {featured on Wattpad Talent Scouts}

THIRTY-ONE

I think it's right to warn you this chapter has extremely mature section for this book. You have been warned!

The base causes the floor and walls to shake, my body feeling the vibrations as I travel across the floor.

Not only do I have no idea what they Arthur looks like, but I have no clue where to find him. Something tells me he's okay with that, that he doesn't mind at all. A voice in the back of my head says he will find me.

I arrived right on time, getting in surprisingly easily as the bouncer checking the names off asked me who was in waiting for me. I didn't even finish Arthur's name before the robe was opened for me and a woman lead me down a narrow hall and into this massive structure. Five floors high, the main area open as balconies look down upon the crowds of people either drinking, dancing, or doing whatever they want.

High-end and very ostentatious, I already know I don't fit in even with an expensive designer dress (knowing Zion that's got to be what I am wearing). My ID even though I'm eighteen? Alpha Nixon made me one before me left, Zion unsure of if the rogue warehouse would let me in without being twenty-one. So, to say the least, since made by Alpha Nixon who Zion appraises for his hacking and fake document skills, my fake ID must be pretty real unlike the rest of the fake ones out there.

A couple of girls run into me on accident, clad in nothing but shiny attire that barely covers their bodies and cocktails in at least one hand. They apologize and I move on, looking around for anyone at least a bit shady that I could associate with this rogue.

The fact that Zion watched me escape the hotel makes me uneasy. For all I know he could show up, cause a scene, and drag me out. For all I know I could just apologize for my attitude and ask him who his mate is and who really killed my parents. Though he has already told me both of the answers, I still don't have a single clue. I still doubt.

"Let me guess, girl from Kansas? A farm? Exploring the big city?" A male asks as he almost passed bye, winking at me as I feel uneasy. Sure, he's attractive with sandy blond hair, gray eyes, and a good body, but he's not my type. Zion is my type. But what really is my type? A mysterious breed of males older than me who rule over Kingdoms humans find to be only fairytales. "Or rebelling against mom and dad as you are in college and living a little?"

I forgot about annoying dude over here.

He's not wolf, he's human, meaning I could easily beat the living shit out of him. "Is this some sort of game? Guess the girl's background and if you're right, their end of the bargain is to have rough sex in the alleyway?"

He's surprised by me, but install goes back to 'Mr. Suave.' I bet he's run across a few girls like me, those who give sass rather than sex.

He chuckles, trying to play it cool. "Now there's a little A Honors student. Let me guess? Med student living the party life?"

"Wrong again," I reply, looking over his shoulder to try and find anyone who could be Arthur. Or at least make sure Zion is not here. What would Zion even do to this kid? Snap his neck? Feed him to the dogs? Create a chase and the winner gets to keep this dude's teeth? Back in the more barbaric days of the werewolves, when you killed your enemy, the victor of the fight would keep the canines of their opponent. Sounds weird, but it's true.

"Law."

"Goodbye."

"One drink?" He asks, cocking his head to the side.

"Let me guess, Frat boy who would haze countless freshman girls?" He looks offended. "Two can play the guessing game, though I find it quite dull," I express, pushing right past the dude and just as I reach the next crowd, my arm is grabbed.