Page 51 of To Hunt A Wolf
“And you’re a monster.”
“You know nothing about what I am. Not anymore.”
“You’re right. Because you don’t tell me shit. You run around with missing alpha-heirs and play ninja all day while everyone else pays the price. What else am I supposed to think?”
When he starts to answer, I cut him off. “You can’t kiss your way out of an explanation,” I add. “I’m not a man. I can think and have an orgasm all at the same time.”
The faintest hint of a smile quirks his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though it might be difficult to achieve the latter without the use of your hands—or mine.”
Before I can think of something snappy to say, he stalks out.
* * *
It’s notlong before I realize Levi’s torture hasn’t ended simply because he left the room. In the silence, I’m forced to acknowledge the presence of the food cart he left behind. The scents coming from it are making it impossible to forget how empty my stomach is. That plate of mafia spaghetti is only a memory, and whatever’s hiding underneath the tray cover promises to make me forget it altogether.
But Levi doesn’t return.
I get impatient. Then I get hangry.
Using my weight against the chair, I sort of hop my way over to the cart. If there are cameras on me, whoever’s watching doesn’t seem to mind if I help myself.
Fine.
I don’t need Levi anyway.
Using my teeth, I pick up the tin cover and let it fall onto the hard floor. It crashes loudly, but still, no one interrupts. I stare down at the plate of lasagna and then let loose with a string of curses—every single one of them a creative alternative to Levi’s given name.
Of course, he left me with no fork, no hands, and the only food I can’t easily eat without them.
My stomach rumbles, and I seriously debate face planting into the thick pasta, manners be damned.
From the other side of the door, I hear voices. They don’t belong to Levi, which means they must be his security team. My wolf hearing picks up just enough to concern me.
“…contain her.”
“Levi tried. Clearly, she’s not going to cooperate.”
“She’s a threat to the whole community.”
“Drugging her is the only solution.”
I look down at the lasagna with a new concern.
Fuck this.
I refuse to go easily, no matter how much of a monster Levi is to me.
Lifting my bound feet, I pull them in and then kick them both out, sending the tray careening backward. It topples over, crashing hard. The dishes break, and the echo of the destruction shatters the silence of my cell.
The door opens, and three guards race into the room.
They stop and take in the fallen cart and broken dishes. Then they each narrow their eyes on me.
“Rude,” one of them says, which throws me off only because it’s so much more civilized than the response I expected from them.
“Minnie spent a lot of time on that lasagna,” says another.
Like it’s an accusation.
