My Little Trouble Maker

Damien's POV:

Turning to me, she said, "Now that I've released some of the pent-up anger from your Beta, I'm going to see Ann. I'm sure she's made something for lunch. You're lucky, you know?" There was a hint of sadness in her voice.

 I had so much I wanted to ask her, but I knew she wouldn't tell me—at least not until I had won her over. I agreed with her and watched as she headed toward my mother's place, after I had asked her to swear not to go around beating my pack members. She chuckled and agreed.

 As I returned to my office, I knew Lewis would already be there, eager to discuss whether I had talked to my mate about our most wanted criminal, Laura, whose scent my mate had been carrying.

 After discussing with my Beta and telling him that I would address the matter with my mate when the opportunity presented itself, I dove back into my work. The day was consumed by a mountain of tasks that needed my immediate attention, and I was determined to clear everything off my desk. My goal was to finish all pending work so that I could carve out some time to focus on wooing my mate.

 As I worked tirelessly, the hours slipped away unnoticed. When I finally looked up, I realized it was already midnight. Despite the late hour, I knew I couldn't postpone the date I had planned. I had a limited window of thirty days to win her heart and ensure she wouldn't reject me. Time was of the essence, and every moment counted.

 I headed to the garage, where I kept both my car and my rarely used motorbike. I parked the motorbike there mainly for trips into human cities, where I needed to blend in and camouflage myself to avoid drawing attention from hunters. While I wasn't overly concerned about them hurting me—given my strength and abilities—it was more about avoiding any unnecessary conflict or harm to them.

 I decided to take the motorbike for our date. I imagined how excited my mate would be to ride it. She seemed to have a natural thrill for adventures, and the motorbike would be a fun way to connect with her. More than that, I was looking forward to her holding onto me during the ride. Since she couldn't stand my touch, I figured this would be a subtle way to get closer to her, to make her touch me in a way that felt comfortable for her.

 As I prepared for the ride, I couldn't help but feel a surge of determination. My plan was to make this date memorable, to create moments that would break down her defenses and start to warm her heart toward me. I needed to be strategic, charming, and persistent. The idea of making her touch me in a context where she felt safe and excited was a clever move, I thought.

 After all, I was working with a tight deadline and a complex challenge. This was my chance to show her that I was more than capable of making her fall for me, and I was ready to seize it.

Leslie's POV:

 After we had reached an agreement that he had only one month to win me over or face rejection, he informed me that he had some pressing matters to attend to. With a hint of concern, he asked if I was okay or if he should take me back to Ann's place. I assured him that I was perfectly fine and that he needn't worry. I had already mastered the route back and was confident in my ability to navigate on my own.

 He gave me a skeptical look that clearly conveyed his doubt—he seemed to think I might run off at any moment. This made me chuckle softly. I reassured him, "I'm not going to run away. I'm a wolf of my word and I'm more interested in watching you fail than in running away." His expression shifted slightly, but he didn't press the issue further.

 Once he left, I took a moment to gather my thoughts and assess my surroundings. My gaze fell upon the training ground, where I noticed an oddly familiar scent in the air—a scent I had encountered earlier as we passed by. Curiosity and a tinge of apprehension drove me to investigate. As I approached the training area, the scent grew stronger, and it wasn't long before I spotted him—the man who had tortured me when I was injured.

 A surge of anger coursed through me. Elsie, my inner wolf, was practically vibrating with the desire for vengeance. I had to remind her that we needed to handle this situation with strategy and composure. Revenge was important, but it had to be executed properly.

I watched as he demonstrated defense techniques to the pack warriors. His methods were clumsy and ineffective in my opinion, lacking the precision and skill necessary for proper training. Unable to hold back, I scoffed loudly, making sure my disapproval was evident. The warriors and the instructor turned their attention toward me, and I could see the confusion and curiosity in their eyes.

 I stepped forward, cutting through the murmurs and whispers of the crowd. Confronting him directly, I announced, "Your defense tactics are pathetic. I could penetrate all of them with ease." My bold declaration drew a mixture of surprised and amused looks from the onlookers.

The instructor's face twisted into a smirk, clearly underestimating me. "Okay then," he said with an air of condescension, "Why don't you give it a try?" His challenge was drenched in skepticism, and he probably thought I was just boasting.

 His arrogance only fueled my determination. While my original plan had been to engage in a fair fight, giving him the chance to defend himself, I was more than willing to seize this opportunity to show him my capabilities. The thought of landing a few solid punches and demonstrating my strength was exhilarating. I was resolved to make him regret ever inflicting pain on me. His smirk and dismissive attitude made me even more eager to prove myself.

 As I prepared to engage, I took a deep breath, channeling my focus and energy into the confrontation. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, a mix of anticipation and curiosity. I was ready to show them—and him—just what I was capable of. This was not just about revenge; it was about reclaiming my power and ensuring that he knew the true cost of crossing me.

We both took our positions on the training ground, him in a defensive stance and me prepared to go on the offensive. The crowd of warriors formed a semi-circle around us, their eyes fixed with a mix of anticipation and skepticism. His demeanor was one of overconfidence, as if he was certain that I would be no match for him. I, on the other hand, was resolved to prove him wrong and show everyone what I was truly capable of.

As the fight commenced, he managed to block my initial punches with surprising ease. He scoffed at me, his smirk evident, clearly preparing to taunt and belittle my efforts while demonstrating to the crowd that I was nothing more than a fleeting challenge. What he didn't realize was that I was carefully studying his movements and timing, using this opportunity to assess his fighting style and patterns.

My first significant blow landed squarely on his face. A sharp, satisfying crack echoed through the training ground, signaling that I had successfully broken his nose. The sound was both alarming and gratifying, marking the start of my shift from mere assessment to full-on assault. I pressed on relentlessly, throwing punch after punch with increasing speed and force, faster than he could effectively block. My focus sharpened as I allowed the darkness within me to take control, channeling all my rage and strength into each strike.

 I felt the impact of my blows causing his ribs to crack under the force of my punches. Yet, despite the evident damage, I wasn't ready to stop. I was driven by a need for retribution and a determination to show my strength. My senses were heightened, and as I continued to strike him, a distinct and familiar scent pulled me out of the intense rage that had overtaken me. The scent brought me back to reality, and I turned my gaze to the person who had entered- mate.

 Through the haze of battle, I saw that Damien gave me a look of twisted pride. His expression seemed almost amused, as if he was somehow proud of the spectacle I had created. This only fueled my resolve further. I gave him a sweet, innocent smile, as if to say, "Look at me, the one apparently had beaten up your Beta."

 It then struck me that the man I was pummeling was indeed his Beta, which explained the instructor's authoritative and condescending attitude. Understanding this context made the situation even more significant.

 Standing up and catching my breath, I addressed the onlookers with a calm, authoritative tone. "That's how you go on the offensive," I declared, making it clear that my display was not just a show of strength but a lesson in effective combat.

 As I made my way toward my mate, I noticed Lewis, the Beta I had just pummeled, standing up with a look of grudging respect. He remarked that Damien was unfortunate to have me as a mate, especially if he ever managed to anger me. His comment elicited a ripple of chuckles and murmurs from the crowd, lightening the mood after the intense confrontation.

 At that moment, another figure stepped forward from the crowd—an unfamiliar face. He introduced himself as the Gamma of the pack. His demeanor was friendly and enthusiastic, and he expressed his excitement about the fact that I had managed to defeat the Beta. "I'm thrilled to see someone put Lewis in his place," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. This gesture was met with disapproval from Damien, who quickly removed the Gamma's hand, clearly irritated.

 The Gamma, whose name I learned was Martin, playfully informed Damien that he had another competitor for my attention. His light-hearted approach and easy camaraderie contrasted sharply with Damien's discomfort and anger. Martin's reaction made me feel a bit more at ease within the pack's dynamics, and his gesture of friendship was a welcome relief after the intense and emotional ordeal.

 As the crowd began to disperse, I could sense a shift in the atmosphere—a mix of newfound respect and curiosity from the pack members. The confrontation had made a strong impression, and I was left contemplating the impact of my actions and the relationships that were beginning to form around me.

 I turned to Damien and told him that I was heading to his mother's place. With a hint of humor in his voice, he replied, "Just don't go around beating up my pack members." I smiled at his joke, appreciating the lighter tone after the earlier confrontation.

 As I arrived at Ann's place, I found her waiting for me with a warm, welcoming smile. The aroma of delicious food wafted from the kitchen, and I could already tell that she was a remarkable cook. Ann greeted me with genuine enthusiasm and ushered me to the dining table, where a hearty lunch awaited. The spread was impressive, with a variety of dishes that looked both appetizing and comforting.

 Ann served me a generous portion of food, insisting that I eat more. "You're too thin," she said with a hint of concern. "You're too little for my liking. You need to eat more." Her nurturing attitude was evident, and despite my initial reluctance, I found myself enjoying the meal immensely. Ann's cooking was superb, and I appreciated the effort she put into making sure I felt cared for.

 After lunch, Ann and I spent the entire afternoon together. She had a plan for us, and it didn't involve just sitting around. "We're going shopping," she announced with a bright smile. I hesitated at first, not wanting to trouble her or impose on her time. "Oh, nonsense," she responded with a wave of her hand. "You're like a daughter to me now, and my daughter must dress nicely."

 Her insistence was hard to resist, and I eventually relented. However, what started as a simple shopping trip quickly turned into an exhaustive adventure. Ann took me to every shop in town, selecting clothes for me to try on. She seemed to have an endless list of stores to visit, and her enthusiasm was both admirable and overwhelming. Each store presented a new set of outfits for me to try, and Ann would examine each piece with a critical eye, choosing what she deemed superb and discarding the rest.

 As the hours passed, I found myself growing weary. Ann's shopping spree seemed never-ending, and by the time we were done, I was exhausted. Despite the fatigue, I had to admit that Ann's choices were excellent, and I appreciated her efforts in helping me find new clothes that suited me well.

 When we finally returned home, both Ann and I were thoroughly worn out. The day had been full of activity, from the strenuous shopping to the lively conversations. Thankfully, we had eaten outside before coming back, so there was no need to worry about preparing another meal. We collapsed into our respective beds, relieved to finally have a moment to rest.

 The day had been a whirlwind of emotions and experiences. I had gone from punching Damien's Beta to a warm and comforting lunch with Ann, followed by a marathon shopping session. Ann's genuine care and affection made me feel like part of the family, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for her kindness. As I drifted off to sleep, I reflected on the events of the day and looked forward to the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead.

 Then the thump, thump started.