Lola (Completed)

41 Chauvinistic As Hell

Bastian

Jacob's eyes flicker to me, before fixing back on Lola. I feel my wolf bunching his muscles, both of us ready to leap at the male who we used to call our friend, our brother.

"Does he know you called Samuel, Lola? Did you tell your mate how you keep my brother dangling on your line?"

My body feels like liquid fire, hot, burning, the flames of pure jealousy licking at my bones. One heartbeat I'm standing feet away from my mate. The next beat and I'm behind my Lola with her back pressed to my front. Another heartbeat and one hand is pressed against her stomach, holding her tight. The other hand is wrapped around her neck, gently, to tip her head and press my lips to my Mark.

"You called Sam?" I whisper against her mouthwateringly sweet skin. I can feel her pulse fluttering under my palm. She tastes of my moon and nerves.

"For Gillian," she admits softly. Her throat moves under my hand, her heart beating in time with the one in my palm pressed against her vulnerable flesh.

I growl, my canines protruding to nip at her soft flesh. She has a lot of explaining to do, my pussy. Anything that has to do with her precious Samuel can't be good. My instinct is to own her, to bite and maul this dress right off of her and dominant my mate in a way that makes it clear to all these wolves that she is mine.

"Bastian," she breathes. A complete hush has fallen over the ballroom. Every eye stares, wondering, anticipating. Was it only weeks ago that I held my pussy like this just after I slaughtered my father? Many of these eyes were there, silently judging, waiting for me to destroy the only thing keeping me sane. My mate.

I force the wolf back into his den. She's ours, never to be touched by another male again. I trace her heart with my own. She loves us like she loves no other. It's complete, encompassing, whole. There isn't any room for Samuel to squeeze inside.

"Pussy," I murmur. I just want to hear her voice. Hear her explanation, or not. I don't give a fuck. All I know is that she called him. The male who loves her and would do anything for her. I know he would, because I would do anything for her, too.

"He's gone with Gillian. She came to me and told me the truth about the pup. They've gone." Lola glances over at a pissed-off Ryker. "He's far away, love," her voice drops, a reassurance for my ears, only.

"She's a whore, Bast," Jacob interjects, sneering, flashing yellowed eyes, crazy. My best friend is gone, but to be fair, his best friend is gone, too. I'm not the alphason of the Harbor pack, the golden male, my father's only beloved child. I'm the First Beta of the RueHarbor with more blood on my hands than any wolf should ever admit to.

My wolf snarls at him. He doesn't want to hear his voice. Just hers.

"He was the only one who I trusted to take her and leave, sweetheart. He can keep the pup safe from this pack. I'm sorry," she says softly. "I should have told you about everything. I didn't want to hurt you."

I spin her around and crack the flat of my palm against her red-clad ass. She squeaks, jumping at the contact, but no one hears her but me over the screams of fear and shock that echo in the expansive room. These stupid wolves still think I'll hurt my mate. Pathetic idiots.

"I am your mate," I growl. I hold her hands away from her bottom with my left hand and smack her again with the right. Her mouth falls open in shocked embarrassment. "You tell me, right away." Another smack and tears are pricking her eyelashes.

Mumbled whispers fill the air as the wolves react. Some of the invited packs are more old-school, misogynists, really, who expect this sort of thing. Males punish their females in intimate ways that they ultimately have all say over. Spankings are allowable for the dominant message they send while keeping a female safe from harm.