Big Bad Wolfie

Chapter 7) Well, How Problematic

"Jason," I called to grab his attention, "Done with your private discussion?"

"It's alpha to you," he glared at me.

"Please, you're lucky I don't call you Wolfie to your face," I rolled my eyes. I turned to the bar tender.

"Can I have a drink please? Something strong," I waved my hand.

"Excuse me?" He snapped at my 'Wolfie' comment.

"You're excused," I nodded with a grin.

Our company chuckled.

"Why do you have to be so childish?" He grumbled.

My drink came. "Um, maybe because I am one," I took a sip of it, rolling my eyes.

I made sure dog boy didn't get enough time to respond. "Wow, this is really good," I chuckled. It's like a

strawberry lime mix sort of thing. You wouldn't even tell it was alcohol if it didn't leave that burning down

your throat.

"Wait, what?" He frowned, snatching my drink.

I scoffed and reached for it, but he put his arm up, blocking me.

"Hey, it's mine. You —"

"How old are you?" He raised an eyebrow.

I froze. A nervous chuckle escaped my lips. "Pft, age is but a number." I reached for my cocktail sort of

thing again, but he held it farther away.

"You're right, so just tell me yours," he argued, with a smart @ss smirk on his dumb face.

Oh, congratulations. I mentally rolled my eyes. You know how to recycle other people's words.

"Um. . . I'm senmhmn," I mumbled.

"You're what?"

"Sevnmhm."

"What?!"

"SEVENTEEN! I'm seventeen, okay?!"

Silence.

"HAHAHAHA!" He laughed obnoxiously loud, still holding my drink above his head.

You're laugh is beautiful.

I hate you.

I crossed my arms and frowned.

"You're just a baby!" He laughed.

"Am not!"

"You're not even old enough to drink in most places!"

"Neither are you!" Probably.

We wouldn't be mates if there was that much of an age gap.

He chuckled. "You're not getting this back. Your little baby brain is still developing and shouldn't have

alcohol."

No more stress relieving happy juice?

Oh h3ll no.

"Yeah, well this girl," I pointed to myself, "with my baby brain, has some stupid dog people trying to

get the run of my home, the leader of which just happens to be the person I'm destined to spend the

rest of my life with, which is just GREAT. Also, it's MY responsibility to fix all this because y'know, why

not? It's my freaking house — so you have no right to prevent me from drowning my senses in alcohol

so I can pretend the whole ordeal isn't happening for the time being!" I ranted in one breath, spitting a

thousand words per second. I grabbed his wrist and snatched my drink back with a scowl.

I chugged the rest of the glass in one go. "Can I have a shot of the strongest thing you have?" I asked

the bar tender.

"Woah, woah," Wolfie put his hand up to slow me down and made a reach for the new shot.

"Calm down DAD. It takes like fifty of these to get me even a little tipsy. Vampire metabolism," I told

him with a lazy smile before drowning the shot. even with the heightened effects the alcohol is

supposed to have to compensate for our fast metabolisms, I have a pretty high tolerance. I smiled a

bright one at the bar tender. "Another one, please. Keep them coming, don't be shy" I turned to Wolfie,

and he's looking at me funny. So are some of the others. Not because of the metabolism thing,

everyone knows about that. I'm just not the type to get wasted — like I plan to. Especially in a fancy

event like this.

I've been told I dance like I'm tipsy either way so. . . Eh. "If you need to find me, I'll be here," I told

Wolfie. I shot the next drink the bar tender provided down my throat.

And another.

And another.

And a couple more.

And another few.

And silence.

That's all I got as reaction.

Wolfie seemed surprised by me taking my, what? 20th shot unfazed and not even close to being

finished.

I raised an eyebrow with a smirk. It's funny seeing him surprised. "Did you think I was kidding about

getting drunk out of my mind?"

He stood there staring for a second, then he blinked and shook his head to clear it. "Not happening.

You are not going to embarrass me." He pointed at where we are standing. "I brought you to this

event."

"Yeah but, Y'know I got an invitation of my own," I raised an eyebrow. "I'm obviously seen as a

separate party from you."

"Yes, but we're trying to change that, remember? The whole 'trophy on the arm' thing," he smiled

fakely, throwing my own words in my face. "You're just a girl that is accompanying me. Nothing more.

That's the message we're going for here." He stretched his bitter sweet smile even more, just adding to

how staged this whole experience has been. The locking arms, the dancing.

"Oh, I remember," I rolled my eyes.

Should I tell him it's never going to happen?

I'm too bad at first impressions to ever be just that girl that Jason brought. When people see me it's

probably always going to be something more like, 'oh boy, it's Maria' or 'oof, remember last time she

was here?'

. . . Eh, he'll figure it out.

"Great." He nodded swiftly at my silence, taking it as a victory.

If only he knew.

"You're dancing with me." He held out his arm for me to slip mine into.

I rolled my eyes.

"C'mon, we've gotta convince them," he winked at me. It was mocking. But it still made my heart

flutter.

Freakin' mate bond.

Whatever, I like this song. I hopped off my stool and rested my arm in the crook of his — because, why

not? — as I followed him to the middle of the dance floor.

"I'll be back for you later," I said to the bar, waving it goodbye.

Wolfie let out a long sigh.

Haha.

Classical music has been playing this whole time, but this is one of the first songs that can actually be

danced to. This one's still slow, but the rest were too slow. The only people dancing were elders and

couples who's opinions of dancing were leaning on each other and slightly shifting their weight from

one foot to the other from time to time. But now, the dance floor is becoming more lively and crowded.

Bringing a slight smile to my face at the change in mood.

No more boring business talk and completely forced polite chatter amongst, let's be honest, a bunch

of people who can't stand each other.

There are friends, and there are foes. Doesn't matter which side you're on. There will be plenty of both

within reaching distance at an event like this.

One of the most interesting parts to be honest.

And my dance partner is one of my more prominent enemies at the moment.

How exciting.

We got to where he wanted us to be, towards the middle of the dance floor. He grasped my hand

tightly in his and rested his other one on the small of my back as he pulled me in closer.

I, again, like the first time we met, had to restrain myself from inching closer. His body so close to mine

just feels so right.

No matter how much I dislike the guy.

He smells so good.

How does he smell so good? He's half dog for crying out loud!

And his eyes.

A beautiful gray that light up when he smiles. I've never seen it up close, but I've noticed it from afar.

When he's talking and smiling with people he's being himself around. The way he can't be around me.

Because he's the big bad invader.

Big bad Wolfie.

And his smile.

Not the smirk. The smirk is hot. But the smile. . . Could make me melt if I'm not careful. Luckily, it's

another thing I've really only witnessed from afar.

All these things are beautiful, and for some reason (a reason like the mate bond), even though I've

done it my whole life, I can't imagine myself living without them. It's almost like they can get me high on

just their amazingness. Their brilliance.

They're so mind boggling.

And problematic. Look at me, he's already consuming my thoughts. All these insanely beautiful things

are getting in the way. Getting in the way of me taking my house back.

If it were anyone else, I probably would have already set a plan into motion to have them on their way.

Or at least a plan in general. Right now, I don't have either.

Even scarier though, is that I think I know why.

I'm not sure if. . . If I even want them gone for good.

We're mates. It's natural for when you find yours to either join their pack or house, or vise-versa. OR,

if you're the leader, and it's best for everyone, you can join the packs or houses themselves, so the

rightful heir for both can still take over when the time comes.

Although, the whole 'only the rightful heir can be in charge' rule is taken way more lightly than it used

to be. The power goes to whoever can do the best for the house or pack.

That doesn't take away from the fact it's usually the master or alpha heir that meets that criteria,

though.

I'm getting off topic.

Problem.

I have all this information I've found that I could use against him, but I don't know how. I know one of

his allies is the Crescent Moon pack. Dumb name, but a force to be reckoned with.

Nothing my house can't handle, but it's in everyone's best interest to avoid another war. And that's

exactly what making a move on them would do. Start a war. So that's out of the question. (And also

because Wolfie is your mate)

I also noticed he has something to do with Master Abaddon Cross(fun fact: Abaddon is destroyer in

Greek. Sounds like a fun enemy to have, huh? He's a blast), which sends a cascade of red flags

waving everywhere. So much so, that I wouldn't be surprised if all this turns out to be his idea or part of

his grand plot to rule the world or whatever, but we try to stay away from getting into affairs with

him(even though we've already been involuntarily sucked into one. Thanks Wolfie). They never end

well. So that's also a no. (And also because Wolfie is your mate)

Another thing is, the werewolves on guard at night in the courtyard have a regular time they switch

shifts every 5 hours, and that leaves a window of about 2 minuets for me to do as I please within those

perimeters. Which includes breaking people out of the jails, and taking out the remaining guards that

are still patrolling the boarders of the entire territory. After that, who knows what kind of damage we

could do.

Oh wait, I do. It's a lot.

(But Wolfie is your mate)

Then, sneaking out of my room, either through the widow or through picking the lock on the door, and

just killing Jason and his beta and anyone else that can be problematic in their sleep is always an

option.

But at the same time, is absolutely not.

It breaks so many personal rules of mine. And there's no way of even determining if I'd survive long

enough to finish what I started after killing my mate.

Who I don't even really wanna kill in the first place.

Plus, Happy seems like a nice guy. Plus plus, everyone else is just following orders.

(Plus plus plus, Wolfie is your mate)

Ugh! Why does this have to be so hard? NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

Y'know what, I'm just gonna start off with the basics. cut him off from the most problematic of his allies

and make him low on resources, hopefully without him even noticing. Buying me time and making it

easier to do whatever I decide in the end.

Okay! Yes. We have a plan. I can breathe now.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Jason suddenly spoke, almost in a whisper, examining me

closely.

Oh, just thinking of all the ways I could easily be the cause of you and your pack's downfall.

"Doesn't matter," I shrugged innocently instead. "I'm just an appendage with no original thoughts or

functions," I smiled up at him.