KNOX
Werewolves shouldn't meddle in human affairs. As an individual, a pack, we could get in trouble with the councils.
That was the reason I thought this whole mission of taking Oleander captive and bringing her to the pack was meaningless. At least to me, but not to Dante. The one hellbent on taking his revenge.
As his beta, I knew how he was. He never backed down when it came to getting things he wanted. Even if his soul were to be in line, he'd happily die for it.
I grimaced, kneading the bridge of my nose as I stared into the rear-view mirror. There were three other cars behind, totaling ten deltas.
Dante didn't trust me well enough to take out the mission. Even though I couldn't understand why he wouldn't stick to the plan of me bringing her to the pack myself, it was stupid that he'd gotten all those deltas along with him just because of one human.
And maybe he was right not to have trusted me because, honestly, I wasn't sure I'd be taking Oleander to him. I never wanted to. But she wouldn't even heed my warning.
A sharp knock sounded on the window, and I wound down. One delta leaned forward.
"I got information that the police are around somewhere. I think you need to inform the boss." He said.
I grimaced, giving a brief nod, before opening the door. My father. He was earnest about staying over until the next full moon.
I started towards the apartment, wondering what was holding Dante up. He had left about twenty minutes ago, long before Oleander went for her jog. He should be done with it.
I reached the entrance, but the door opened before I could go for it. Dante had Oleander slung over his shoulder. But it wasn't just her lifeless form that caught my attention; it was the blood slowly dripping from a cut in her hand. I blinked, taking a step back.
"Did you kill her?" I grunted.
Dante didn't answer my question. I followed him to the car, and he tossed Oleander inside like she was some plastic doll, her hand hitting the floor of the vehicle. My stomach tightened as I stared at her pale face and unmoving body, then looked back at Dante.
"I asked a question," I murmured.
"It's none of your business." He snarled his answer.
My teeth gritted, and my hands curled into fists. Bastard.
Dante's eyes narrowed on mine. "Shouldn't you be on the lookout rather than be concerned about what I do to my captive?"
"I am," I said, "We need to get out of here. Now." I ignored his eyes following me as I walked to the car. I opened the door, slid in, and slammed it shut.
If my father were to arrive at this place, he'd never spare us. Not even me, his son. Although Dante influenced this city due to his father being the former Alpha and kingpin, he'd easily escape whatever crime was pinned on him, yet that'd be a hassle.
The drive to the pack house was silent. It took about an hour with brief stops at the gas station.
Oleander was still unconscious, and that worried me greatly. I watched as Dante continued down the hallway towards his room.
"Shouldn't you take her to Cam for her injury to be looked into?" I murmured, shoving my hands into my pants' pockets.
Dante stopped walking. He turned to face me. "Back off, Hex. You did your part of the job by stalking. Now it's my turn. Why do you have to question me?"
Hex was my nickname. We rarely used our real names in the pack house.
"Maybe because it's the normal thing to do," I pointed out with a glare, closing the distance. I clutched Oleander's palm, ignoring the familiar jolt that shot through me at the contact.
My throat tightened as I gazed at her hand. A deep gash was in the middle of her palm, with blood still dripping out slowly from it. I couldn't tell if she had cut herself or if Dante did it. I knew she didn't look like this when I met her earlier.
"She's human, Black," I said, looking at him. "She's not like us, that our wounds close up within minutes, hours—our healing kicks in. She needs medical attention; otherwise, it's going to get infected!"
Dante growled, his eyes flashing. "For the second time, I am repeating this. Back off, Hex." He slowly said, through clenched teeth.
"She's my property, and I do as I desire with what I own." He growled, then turned around, walking away with her dangling on his shoulder.
I swallowed thickly, watching him until he disappeared around the corner.
"Screw you, Corsetti." I snarled. But I could do nothing. She had fallen into his hands, and I could only pray she survived the ordeal she'd face afterward.
"That makes the two of us angry with the Alpha." A sultry voice murmured, before the owner appeared. Eighteen-year-old Celina Corsetti. Dante's half-sister and one of the medics in the pack house.
She flipped her long brown hair back from her face, walking up to me, a bright, dimpled smile on her face, and blue-gray eyes locked on mine. But I turned around and began to walk away. The last person I wanted to talk to was her.
"Seriously?" She said,
Again, I ignored her. The sound of her heels clicking on the floor made me groan. Of course, I knew she'd not let me go easily. She clutched my hand, stopping me.
She stepped in front of me, her gaze searching. "Why are you acting so cold towards me? Did I do something wrong?"
"No," I answered.
"No?" She scoffed. "You're not telling me the truth, Hex. I've seen the way you act towards me these few days, and I can assure you it's not the same way as before!"
I gently pulled my hand, taking a step back. "I owe you no explanation on how I choose to act, Celina. Besides, I wanted to be alone."
I swirled, walking away without a second thought. "I wish you could respect me and keep your distance from me."
Celina snorted in disbelief. "Maybe when you respect me and stop treating me like a pest!" She flung back at me.
But I didn't respond to her. I was too exhausted with the thoughts of Oleander to do so.