The sun hadnât even rised yet when Blythe left the bed as quietly and gracefully as a feline, carefully picking up her clothes from the night before that inelegantly were scattered around the bedroomâs floor of who had been her fuck toy for the last year.
She didnât want to be there when heâd wake up; she didnât want to hear that speech all over again, the one he always blurted out every time they had sex. All the âI love youâ; âI know you feel something tooâ and the âWe should be togetherâ sounded pathetic to her and made her sick.
Although he was very easy on the eye and his amatory skills were rather impressive, he definitely wasnât Alpha material and that was precisely why he chose him among all the other options she had. Even when it pissed her father off, Jake wasnât a threat to his leadership at all.
Fergus Gowan ruled his Pack with an iron fist. His rules were the law and that had worked out extremely well for him and his kin. His Pack had grown to become one of the most prosperous of Louisiana, being the largest one of New Orleans.
But with such success also came enemies. It was well known that the leader of a rival pack wanted to expand his territory at any cost, and that included going to war with whoever dared to interfere with his plans. Tension cut the air like a knife in every meeting of NOLAâs werewolves, but he hadnât had the guts to confront Blytheâs father for he was very aware that if he did, the rest of the packmasters would come to his aid without any hesitation.
Blythe had never been interested in politics affairs and she only attended to the meetings because it pleased her mother. She adored her and made everything she could to make her proud and happy, even when that âeverythingâ bored her to the point of falling asleep.
But when her mother died, so did her responsibilities. The once disciplined young woman abandoned a promising future as a vet when she lost her compass, her partner in crime, the keeper of her most beloved secrets.
The Pack gatherings were replaced by parties and late night reunions with new friends her father didnât approve of but nonetheless allowed, for he thought that everyone had their own way to cope with grief and loss, and his only daughter, his precious pearl, wasnât the exception. After all, it had been only a year since his wife passed away and he still missed her terribly. He would always miss her.
Blythe pulled on her clothes but left her shoes for last. She took her purse that she had thrown onto Jakeâs couch as soon as they arrived at his apartment and in complete silence, disappeared from his place. To her dismay, the elevator wasnât working that day, so she quickly climbed down the stairs, putting her stilettos back on before exiting the apartment building.
Though it was already morning, it was still rather dark. Any other person would have taken a cab, but for some reason, Blythe preferred to walk. Who in their right mind would dare to mess with a wolf, especially when that wolf was the child of a pack leader? Blytheâs lips curled up into a small smile. Belonging to some sort of âroyaltyâ to put it somehow, had its advantages. It was a pity that she didnât discover them before.
After some time of walking, she entered a mansion situated in The Garden District that once had been her motherâs home and now belonged to her and her alone due to her motherâs will. Despite the fact of being utterly large for just her and a maid who had been her family since she was a child, she liked living alone; surrounded by the memory of the person she had loved the most.
She kicked off her shoes at the foyer and left them there, she would come back for them after she had a bath and some sleep.
Ignoring her growling stomach, she lazily climbed up the stairs that led to her bedroom, and once inside, she closed the door before plopping down on her bed.
And right then she saw it: a black envelope with her name in golden letters that was placed against the lamp on her nightstand, right where Bernardette always left the most important mail for her.
Curiosity got the best of her and straightening up, she sat on her bed, took the envelope between her fingers and without  looking who the sender was, she opened it swiftly to find a VIP invitation to the inauguration of a new night club in The Central Business District.
As tired as Blythe was, she still found enough energy to grin. It looked like she was going to be âbusyâ tonight as well. Once again, the old saying proved to be true: there was no rest for the wicked.
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