Chapter 3: CHAPTER 3
Jasson smiled inwardly at her feistiness. He had been told enough times that he had an intimidating presence. All his life, even before earning his reputation, people had been weary of him and it had kind of irritated him. His grandmother blamed his seemingly permanent scowl as well as the dominant vibes that surrounded him.
This female, however, wasn't shrinking away from him or the intensity of his gaze. And he knew it was intense. He knew that his eyes were so completely focused on her and every single line and curve of her hot little body that it should have been enough to make her look away, squirm or scowl. She didn't even flinch under his scrutiny. Instead she met his hard stare boldly, and it occurred to him that it was very possible that he had found someone who could outstare him. This was obviously a female who was used to taking shit from people – probably as a result of being latent. Her fiery nature pleased his wolf who didn't respect tremblers. He would bet she had a wicked temper.
Instinctively, Jasson inhaled deeply to investigate the scent of the female just as he did with anyone he met for the first time. Fuck. The exotic fusion of coconut, lime and pineapple seemed to slam into his system and shoot straight to his hard cock, making it jerk. His wolf growled his arousal, wanting to further investigate this female with the mouth-watering scent. "Why don't you sit," he invited, gesturing to the seat opposite him. His strong attraction to her would be a good thing if she agreed to his deal.
Angelina would have refused his invitation, but to do that would give the impression that she was feeling too intimidated. She couldn't afford to show weakness. After taking the seat, she said, "So you were going to explain what this is all about?" If she hadn't been so in need of answers, she would have avoided talking to him at all. That rough, gravelly voice caressed her senses and almost succeeded in making her shudder.
"My Fighter and my Head Enforcer brought you here a few hours ago."
"What? Why? And how did they even get me to go with them?"
"They drugged you."
Angelina gaped. He was too flippant and unremorseful for her liking. "They did what?"
"At the café. After you left and the drowsiness kicked in as you were walking home, Daniel and Thom took you and brought you to me."
"If it makes you feel any better," began Mountain Man, "you still fought me and Thom like a wildcat before you went away with the fairies to dreamland." He lifted his t-shirt to show her a set of claw marks that spanned his chest. Her marks, she realized. Although she was latent, she could partially shift. She also realized that Mountain Man was amused rather than angry.
"Wildcat is an understatement. No one ever marks our Fighter," a tall, olive-skinned wolf told her who she presumed was Thom – her other kidnapper. With his athletic build and chocolate brown hair, he was more her type. Unfortunately her wolf was growling her disagreement; she rather liked psycho boy.
"And the purpose of Operation Drug and Kidnap the Female Wolf is what exactly?" Her tone made it clear that no answer could possibly placate her.
Jasson's inward smile surfaced. She would be perfect for what he had in mind. In order to know for sure, he needed to tell some sweet little lies first and feel her out, find out if his suspicions about her supposed mating were true. "Reynald Willyam."
Her wolf growled inside her head at the name. "What about him?"
"He has something I want. Something that he owes me."
"Ah, and now you believe you have something he wants and that there's going to be some sort of trade going on." It was just her luck that she would get stuck in the middle of Guardian games.
"You're not so much insurance as you are a little reminder that he owes me and I'm not a patient man."
And she wasn't a patient woman. Nor was she partial to being drugged and kidnapped. But did anyone give a shit? No. It could be that she was latent or just that she was small, but people tended to judge her as being delicate, skittish and submissive. "Look, maybe in your culture it's perfectly fine to drug and abduct a person, but it sure as shit isn't acceptable in mine."
"As soon as Reynald arrives, you can leave."
That wasn't exactly fan-freaking-tastic news. A part of her wanted to rant and rave, but what good would it do? She would only end up being confined in that damn bedroom again and that would drive her and her wolf crazy. Also, she was a believer that it was best to have your enemy in sight. "Have you called him yet?"
"He'll be here soon," he lied. In truth, he hadn't contacted Reynald and he had no intention of doing.
"Well then, can the captive get a coffee or what?" she asked no one in particular.
Aside from psycho boy, Daniel and Thom, there were four other males in the room; a broad frowner with a military haircut, a gorgeous blonde with caramel skin, a tall wolf with tousled dark curls and a clown-wide smile, and a burly rugged guy with claw mark scars across one cheek. It occurred to her that she could just label them Grumpy, Blondie, Smiley and Burly.
Other than Daniel – who seemed strangely fascinated with her for having managed to claw him – none of the wolves looked at all pleased about her presence. She guessed that they weren't a fan of her dad. Not many were. Even the wolf who was wearing a huge grin looked intrigued as opposed to friendly, and she had the feeling that his smile was permanently there. Or maybe he was imagining what it would feel like to rip out her throat and hand it bow-tied to her asshole of a father. With his arrogance, deviousness and 'I own the world and can do whatever the hell I want' attitude, her dad was as good at collecting enemies as he was at gathering alliances. Even those who allied themselves with him only did so because of how influential he was – it was all just politics.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone