Filed to story: Reclaimed Book by Roxie Ray
The hesitance in her expression was like a knife twisting in my heart. But before I could climb off my stool and go to her, Mia swept her into the crowd. Then, clan guys were on either side of me, and another round of drinks appeared. Striker offered a cheers to Tank, whose black eye had quickly become purple, and was nearly swollen shut. I threw back another drink. This one burned less. My limbs felt looser. My laughter came easier.
Shit, this whiskey really worked.
As the night rolled on, the drinks kept flowing. Harley always seemed just out of reach, wrapped up in conversation with other shifters or Lakeview locals, always smiling, always laughing. She had a natural charm. People gravitated toward her.
I was pulled into conversation after conversation, offered congratulations, and even got pitched a few new business ideas. I kept the smile on my face as I shook hands and took more drinks. Shots, mixed drinks, flights of beer. It made it easier to ignore the whine and ache of my dragon. It numbed the guilt eating me up inside.
It was late in the evening. Hours had slid by, lightning-fast and molasses-slow at the same time. Some of the other dragons were heading outside for a late-night shift, and suddenly the idea of wind against my scales was extremely appealing. My dragon was quiet in my chest, though. It was like the alcohol had knocked him out. I turned toward the door, but I moved a little too fast. The room tilted and I stumbled over a bar stool, knocking it to the floor with a clatter.
“Whoa.” Harley’s soft voice cut through the haze. “Think you better slow down there, Steph.”
“I’m fine.” I regained my balance with one hand on the bar, then gestured toward the bartender for another round.
“Hey, seriously.” Harley grasped my forearm, her blue eyes sharp as they bored into me. “You’ve had enough.”
That judgmental look in her eye made anger burn in my chest, fed by the flames of my guilt. God forbid I cut loose a little at my own clubhouse. This was just another way she thought I was a fuck-up. Another way I’d never be good enough to earn her trust. “You don’t need to baby me,” I snapped as I pulled away from her touch. “We’ve got Dylan for that.”
Harley’s eyes widened. She dropped her hand and took a step back. “Jeez. You’re falling all over the place like a teenager, Steph, and now you’ve got the attitude to match?”
“Attitude? You’ve been avoiding me all night. Is that the mature attitude you’re expecting?”
“Avoiding… Steph, I needed a little space.”
“Then take it. I’m having another round.” I narrowed my eyes at the bartender, who looked torn for a moment, then slid me another whiskey.
“What the hell is this about?” Harley asked. “Are you mad about what I said earlier? About Sean? About how I should be gone by now? I’m not going to apologize for that. I’m still here, aren’t I? Can we work together on this?”
I whirled to face her. “Harley, you don’t understand a damn thing that’s going on here! This is why women stay out of clan business! This is between me and my brother. I told you I’d handle it, and I’m handling it, in the way that’s best for this whole clan. I’m the alpha. It’s my responsibility. It’s bigger than you and me. I’m handling it, and as my mate, you need to trust me.”
Harley’s eyes were huge with shock.
The room fell silent. All around us, people stared.
Smoke burned on the back of my tongue. Only then did I realize how loud my voice was. How I towered over Harley. My eyes were probably burning with gold.
Fuck.
I didn’t think I could make her trust me even less. But apparently, I just had.
“Harley, I’m sorry-” I took a step closer.
Harley stopped me with her fingertips pressed to my chest like five brands. “No,” she said coolly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that. Ever.”
I fell silent.
“So, you’re the big bad alpha. That doesn’t matter to me. You don’t own me, and you don’t get to tell me to stay out of things that affect my son’s safety. And you never, ever get to speak to me in a tone like that.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d expect her eyes to flash with draconic anger. She was human, but in that moment, the strength of her anger shocked me. And even through the haze of booze and guilt and frustration… it turned me on. I’d never seen her like this. Fierce. Ferocious. Gorgeous. She’d try to kick my ass to keep our son safe. And she’d probably succeed.
“I’m going back to the house,” she said. “Don’t follow me.”
“Harley, wait.” I tried, one last time. But I knew she wasn’t going to listen. Not tonight, at least. All I could do was lean against the bar and watch the crowd part around her as she stormed out.
Then she was gone.
Someone cleared their throat, and then the party picked back up around me. I sank onto a barstool and slumped my weight against the bar in front of me. At least I still had another whiskey to drink.
Hawk appeared next to me. He was a little red-faced, but mostly clear-eyed. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I know.”
“You really can’t talk to Harley like that.”
“I know.”
“I mean, if I tried to shout at Mia, she’d cut off my balls.”
“Hawk,” I said firmly, resisting the urge to bark at him as well. The last thing I needed was more awkward attention from the surrounding clan. “I said I know.”
Hawk sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “This whole Sean thing’s got everyone fucked up, doesn’t it?”
I huffed a laugh, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “Understatement.”
“Nothing we can do about it tonight,” Hawk said. “You can apologize to Harley in the morning. When you’re sober. And probably hungover.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I said and drained my whiskey.
The party continued like my outburst had never happened. After another hour or so, and a few more rounds, it finally began to wind down. Mia and Bella were long gone, and Hawk had passed out upstairs. Tank was lounging on the grass outside, maybe passed out as well, and Striker was on the couch with one of the local girls, Tori, in his lap.
Tori glanced over at me and gave me a flirty little wave, then leaned down to kiss Striker’s neck. I huffed and stood up from my seat at the bar. My head spun. It was that time of night when everyone either passed out or wrangled someone else into their bed.
I hoped Harley was asleep. My dragon hoped she was asleep in my bed. Probably not, though. She’d probably retreated back to her bedroom at my house. She probably wanted nothing to do with me.
The clubhouse spun around me. There was no way in hell I was making it home tonight. Hell, I’d be lucky if I made it up to my room.
I took the stairs one careful step at a time-a herculean endeavor. I stumbled to my clubhouse bedroom and shoved the door open. The room looked the same, but it was stuffy. I hadn’t spent any time here since Harley had showed up in Lakeview. It didn’t exactly fill me with joy to be back here, but at least I had a bed.
I threw open the windows so the cool night air flooded the stuffy room. Then I managed to get my shoes and jeans off without falling on my face, collapsed onto the bed, and passed out into a dreamless sleep.
After what felt like minutes, maybe seconds, my dragon woke up first.
He stirred, then he thrashed. Angry. Repulsed. Something was wrong.
A small, broken voice filled the room like an alarm clock.
“Steph?”
I blinked my eyes open a sliver. Early morning sun poured into the room-so I’d slept, even if it felt like I didn’t. My head throbbed like someone was jackhammering my brain. My dragon was still thrashing and twitching.
There was a warm weight on my chest. Arms around my waist. But the body felt too narrow. Smelled wrong.
