One Insatiable(4)

This time I do drop my knife. It hits the plate with a loud clang. “I’m sorry…” I can’t help the sputter in my tone. “Your what?”

“Grant has been over-served.” Hayden’s tone is icy as he glares across the table at his brother.

Pushing away from my place, I’m on my feet ready to bolt.

“Sit down, Mercy.” It’s a direct order from my alpha sister, but I’m blind with rage.

“I’ve lost my appetite.” The trembling in my muscles has reached my throat, and I need to get the f*ck out of here. I need to strip off this dress, shift, and run hard, deep into the surrounding forest until I can breathe again.

“I said, Sit. Down.” She rises to her feet, and I can’t disobey her.

Still trembling, I pull the chair out and force myself to sit. The trembling doesn’t stop, and my hands are clenched tightly in my lap. I won’t even look at Hayden. I want him gone.

Thankfully, he stands, placing his napkin beside his plate.“If you’ll excuse me, Dylan. ladies. Grant and I have an urgent matter needing our attention. Grant?”

His hard voice slices through the air. I’ve never heard him speak this way, but I don’t care. I never want to see him again. I’ll give him credit for picking up on that much of what’s happening here tonight.

“Hayden…” Dylan’s voice by contrast is pure honey. “Must you go? We hardly even began dinner!”

“Forgive me, but we must.”

It’s only then I notice Grant wobbling slightly. I have no idea how long he was here before Hayden and I arrived from the gym. Clearly he’d had more than one pre-dinner cocktail, not that I give a shit. He spilled the beans. Now I know what they’ve all been plotting these last few years.

Dylan rises to see them out, leaving Aunt Penny and me alone together. I’m staring at the plate in front of me trying to find control.

“He’s not such a bad fellow,” she says quietly, fingering the base of her wine glass. “Some women find him very attractive.”

My blue eyes snap to hers. “He’s not one of us.”

She doesn’t answer right away. She doesn’t have time before Dylan strides quickly into the dining room, eyes blazing.

“How dare you!” My inner lynx flinches in response to her tone. She’s still my alpha, even if I’m pissed.

“How dare I what?” I growl.

“Hayden Cross is the most eligible bachelor in this town, and he’s taken an interest in you. Not that you do anything to deserve it.”

She paces the room, her dark brown hair fanning around her slim shoulders. She’s wearing a long, sheer wrap in a blue that makes her eyes glow. She’s a beautiful woman, but she’s so hard. The fact that we’ve never been close makes it easier for me to fight her.

Standing, I walk to where she’s stopped beside her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t want to stay here, Dylan. I want to move to San Francisco. I want to be an artist and have my own studio.”

“Enough, Mercy! I’ve clearly overlooked your eccentric behavior too long. It stops NOW!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Her hand slams down at her side, and her eyes drill into mine, making me cower slightly. “No more art classes with the townies, no more riding the bus. No more hanging out at that f*cking gym—”

“NO!” I shout back at her.

SLAP! I stumble back from the force of her blow, and my arm hits the portable wet bar, causing the glass bottles to clatter against each other. I blink trying to regain my focus, and through the ringing in my ears, I hear Penny’s quiet whimpering.

Dylan faces me with both hands on her hips, her feet are spread in an aggressive stance, and her chest rises and falls rapidly.

I’m holding the side of my face. It hurts like hell, but I manage to speak, even if I’ve lost my edge. “Y-you let Autumn go…”

“Autumn has that privilege.”

Pain twists in my chest. “And I don’t?”

“No.”

The word hangs in the air between us. Nothing more is said. I’m breathing fast. She’s breathing fast, but it doesn’t matter. The conversation is over, and I’m left with only two options: do as she says or fight. I know which one I’ll choose.

“You’re the worst alpha I’ve ever known.”

“And you’re a spoiled, ignorant brat.”

She’s not backing down, but neither am I. Without another word, I go to the front door. I’m outside, pulling the hem of my dress up and over my head as I run. The design of it with thin spaghetti straps means I don’t wear a bra, and I don’t hesitate to rip the thong from my body as I lean forward, lunging into my shifter form.

Four paws hit the ground, and I’m running hard into the night. It’s late, and all I care about is burning away the pain of her words — the pain of having such a hateful bitch of an alpha sister, who only cares about money and status. She’s never cared about me. She never will. I want my mom.

Even in my shifter form, even running, I hiccup a sob at the thought. I miss my kind, beautiful mother. As I cover the miles, I remember her holding me on her lap when I was a little girl. I remember her rich, comforting voice as she would thread her fingers through my dark hair. I remember the beauty of her words…