Pechorin’s mouth dropped open, and he froze with his beer halfway to it.
Well, at least I’d managed to make him as speechless as he’d made me. The fact that he could talk about “offing” my brother so casually while the idea of a fake mating shocked him this much struck me as horribly funny, and I had to cough to cover a laugh.
“An alpha mate,” he repeated after a second. “Me?” He didn’t bother coughing; he started laughing openly, his eyes bright with it. He almost looked handsome for a second. “You wantmeto mate with you? Are you out of your fucking mind, Castelli?”
That hurt a lot more than I’d have thought possible. I didn’t know this guy. Didn’t care what he thought of me. But I’d already had more doubts than otherwise about this plan—and his mockery cut deep, underscoring how fucking pathetic it was to be here, in this shitty bar on the edge of town, trolling for a random criminal to mate with me for money.
Because no one wanted to do it for free. Anyone who wanted me only cared about my last name and my father’s bank account. I’d be paying for a mate one way or the other, and I preferred honesty.
“Yeah, I guess I am,” I snapped, and lurched up out of my seat. “Sorry to have wasted your time after all.”
Standing up took me out of the circle of light above the table and into the dimness again, and I stumbled over my own feet, not seeing a projecting corner of the booth and knocking my elbow into it painfully.
Cursing under my breath, cheeks burning, I booked it out of the bar as fast as I could, letting the door slam shut behind me.
My face tingled as hot skin met a chill wind, and the barest purplish remains of daylight along with the overcast sky left the parking lot even gloomier than the cigarette butts and blowing trash and dirty gravel would’ve accomplished on their own.
Fuck this all over again. I needed a drink, and to hide out and lick my wounds for a while.
Maybe I should quit after all. My family couldn’t actually force a mate on me, could they? My trust fund from my grandfather meant I’d be able to survive, even if they cut me off financially.
But no. I loved my work. In fact, I didn’t do much else. Completely aside from the fact that I burned, with a fire I could hardly contain some days, for the credit I’d earned for all my efforts and disregarded successes.
Shit, shit, shit. No good choices. And this had been my only chance to make a real decision for myself, take some control of the situation. I wouldn’t have the courage to try again.
The bar door slammed again behind me as I beeped my car unlocked and reached for the handle. Pechorin following me? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, begging any deities listening to grant me enough patience to get away without antagonizing this asshole too much. He could turn me into a smear on the gravel if he wanted to, and since he didn’t seem to have any moral issue with murdering my brother, no doubt he’d extend the same level of concern to me.
“Wait up,” he said, and I turned around, knowing I’d never make it into the car before he caught me.
Pechorin stopped a couple of feet away, just outside of arm’s reach. Tactfully? It seemed hard to believe.
Either way, he didn’t present less of a threat because he’d kept some distance. Standing, he towered over me as much as I’d expected, and those shoulders blotted out what was left of the setting sun.
He frowned down at me, face even more harsh and angular in the muted violet glow of twilight, eyes lit silvery opaque.
“You’re definitely nuts,” he said abruptly. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not interested.” He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, and for a second, something passed across his face that could’ve been vulnerability. It was gone before I could blink. Surely I’d imagined it. “I need money. Badly. And I can handle the packs that’re after me, probably, but I’ll run out of luck eventually. The thing is…okay, are you talking about actually mating? Or just pretending to be?”
I only wished it could be pretend. And aside from that, half of me longed to tell him to go fuck himself.
But he didn’t sound aggressive or hostile. Maybe I hadn’t imagined that flash of something more, or possibly less, than the abrasive arrogance he’d displayed in the bar…
“It’d have to be real,” I said, forcing myself to put my feelings aside. This was a business negotiation like any other, dammit. “We’d have to pass muster with a shaman during the ritual at the formal mating reception, if nothing else.”
Pechorin mulled that over for a beat. “I don’t know about you, but I’m straight,” he said at last. “But one fuck with a guy can’t be that bad. Lie back and think of England, I guess? At least you can.”
A twinge of irritation pinged through me.Icould? “You could always be the one getting fucked.”
Pechorin burst out laughing.
My cheeks flamed. “I may not be a hulking alpha criminal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t top!”
“Sorry,” he said, sounding not even slightly sorry. And that shit-eating grin made me want to punch it off his face. I’d break my hand, but…worth it. Couldn’t he have at least reacted to the insult? “You know how bonds work, Castelli. You could bite me, but it might not even take. Also, I’m not doing it, no matter how much you pay me.”
“I can’t believe you’d casually offer to kill someone and then flat-out refuse to take it up the ass. Your moral compass points in some direction I didn’t know existed. And I’d be paying you a lot.”
Pechorin shrugged and laughed again. “You’d better be paying me a lot. Doesn’t matter. It’s off the table.”
That didn’t surprise me in the slightest, because I knew alphas. He’d rather die fighting off three hostile packs than bend over, no matter how impractical and foolhardy that attitude might be. But still—dammit. I’d had this fantasy of walking into the corporate offices of Castelli Industries with my alpha mate, my bite on his neck, and everyone goggling at how badass I had to be to get this big, tough alpha to submit.
