Page 4 of Shades of Scars

I think hell will freeze over first before either of us finds the other halves of our souls.

“I’m not being fuckingniceto him. He’s just unwilling to take my threats seriously. I’m probably going to have to hand deliver him a nice little present tonight as a reminder of just who the fuck owns this city now. I’ve warned him. Multiple times.” Jericho Barrons is a wannabe gangster that mostly runs his shit out of the north side of Black Tide Valley, which just so happens to include the Parkway we’ve planted our base on.

This is a city built for the rejects. The runaways and nobodies. Jericho’s a rogue that thinks he can put his nasty boots down on anyone that challenges him. He’s grown into a seemingly unstoppable parasite that Wren’s now hellbent on cleaning up.

EvenIdon’t know why the hell my best friend chose this dump of a city to set our roots down in. But who am I to complain?

For better or worse, Black Tide Valley now belongs to pack Madden. And I’ll defend it just as fiercely as Wren will. As Apollo and Lark will.

Fuck all knows why Raven had to tag along. Probably just so she can continue to remain a thorn in her brother’s side. Can’t have him creating a legacy without her beside him at the helm, like she’s a goddamned toddler that still needs training wheels on her princess bike.

She’s incredibly scaryandannoying.

“Take a breather, man. Going on a murder spree is just going to garner the wrong kind of attention. Until we’ve established our empire, we have to play by the rules, just like everyone else.” I flick my gaze towards poor Adam who’s practically trembling as he pours cocktails from a silver tumbler. We also don’t need to be dragging anyone else into pack business.

Wren growls, but thank fuck he quickly catches my drift. He claps a hand down on Adam’s shoulder, startling the hell out of him in the process. “Personally deliver those drinks and give me some space.” The order is clipped, and the beta wastes no time obeying, scurrying away with the tray of booze like a rat.

And for all we know, he could be. A rat, that is. Working for Jericho Barrons right underneath our noses. “We need to be careful about how we speak here until we can fully vet our employees.” I caution Wren, and he grumbles again like he’s being murdered. He won’t admit I’m right, but that’s fine by me. Part of my job in this pack is keeping our leader’s head on straight.

Wren flicks his wrist and glances down at his watch before he curses. My interest peaks as he moves around the bar and starts to stride towards the stairs that’ll take us down to the main floor for general admission. I don’t bother grabbing my drink as I follow after him, stuffing my hands into my pockets as I go. “What’s lit a fire up your ass now? Off to baby sit Raven during the set?”

I keep close to his back while we descend the steps. Wren slashes his hand through the air in an irritated gesture. He absolutely hates it when I take digs at his sister, but I can’t help myself. “I have a working interview set to start in three minutes. A potential vocalist for the band.”

My eyebrows lift all the way to my hairline, but he can’t see it since his back is to me. “And Raven finally agreed to add avocalist?” I scoff like I don’t believe it, because I really don’t. Raven barely approves of anything that’ll make Wren happy.

And our surly alpha pack lead is adamant he wants a vocalist in the club band.

“Contrary to popular belief, my sister doesn’t get a fucking say in everything I do.” I don’t comment on that as we reach the main floor, bodies writhing all around us to the heavy music blaring around the building, most of them already two sheets to the wind on their vice of choice. Be that booze or the harder stuff, we have it all here atRaven.

Wren pauses at the back of the overly crowded dance floor–a good vantage point in view of the stage–just as the lights above it flare to life, and the curtain begins to draw back slowly. When I get my first eyeful of the delicious looking woman standing front and center, dressed in a sinful little black number, her blonde hair cropped close to her shoulders with the tips dyed sky blue–I know exactly who I want to get a piece of later.

Preferably right across Wren’s fancy ass desk upstairs.

“An omega?” I narrow my eyes. Of course, I can’t smell her from way back here, but there’s just something about her thatscreamsthe designation.

“Beta.” Wren goes and crushes all of my hopes and dreams in one fell swoop, but I try not to let that little tidbit disappoint me too much. I’ll still fuck the life out of the little thing, given the chance.

“If I hire her, she’s off limits to you.” Wren growls, further trying to put a giant wedge through my plans. Little does he know that I really don’t give a shit about his damn rules. “I mean it, Caito. If she’s as good as she says she is, I need her to stay. You can’t be fucking her and getting her attached to you, only for you to inevitably ruin her.”

I arch a brow over at him then, finally dragging my gaze away from the beauty on stage. “Who says I’ll give her up after just one fuck?”

He casts me a narrow-eyed glare. “I do. Because that’s what you always do.”

I clutch my chest as if I’m wounded. “I resent that statement. I know how to treat a lady.”

Wren scoffs. “Not betas.”

He has a point there, but I’m not going to agree to give him ammo.

Before I can shoot back a response, however, the first thrums of music start up, and my attention snaps back to the beautiful little beta on stage. I watch as her eyes close, her posture going too rigid, but then my mind completely blanks as soon as she opens her mouth and begins to sing.

As her voice carries out, the world falls away around me until the only thing that remains is the two of us. I’m riveted as the melody rushes over and through me, making my cock jerk to attention. I can’t breathe while I listen to her sing. She’s fucking incredible. Like star-level talented. The lilt to her vocal chords sends tingles shooting down my spine in the best fucking way, and suddenly–I want her to sing to me every goddamned day for the rest of my life.

“Holy shit.” I breathe, and Wren rumbles beside me as if in agreement. I stand there, unaware of anything else around me while she sings through the set. The minutes tick by. The crowd only grows in numbers as people seem to filter in just to hear this beautiful angel sing. I want to clear them all out. I don’t want anyone else to listen to her as she bares her soul to the world.

That soul belongs to me. I’m as sure of it as I’m sure of who I am down to my core. She makes me forget that the one thing I really crave is an omega. No one’s ever guaranteed to find theirscent match in their lifetime. Who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I know this creature belongs to me, beta or not.

And I will have her. Fuck Wren and his rules.

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