A Roller-coaster

TERESA'S POV

I kept sneaking glances at the strange man driving me to God-knows-where, trying to figure out if he was just your run-of-the-mill psychopath or something else entirely. He hadn't uttered a single word since we got in the car, and the only sound was the soft classical music floating from the speakers. It felt more like the soundtrack to a horror movie than something meant to calm nerves. Every now and then, he'd mutter something under his breath and look even more annoyed, like he was mentally berating himself for ever letting me into his car. It was almost laughable because he'd been the one to practically shove me into his sleek, midnight-black Bentley like he had an urgent appointment with the Grim Reaper and I was his plus-one.

This man had a face like it was carved by angels—if angels had really bad tempers. He was ridiculously handsome, with a jawline that could cut glass and a gaze that seemed permanently set to "judgmental." His hair, dark as a moonless night, was slicked back, and he wore a suit that screamed "expensive taste." He looked like he'd stepped out of a James Bond movie, minus the charm. His annoyance level was off the charts, and I was almost certain his definition of fun was something along the lines of watching paint dry or insulting someone's entire existence with a perfectly timed eye-roll.

Suddenly he glanced up at me. "Are you going to tell me why you are still crying, or should I start guessing?" His tone was sharp, impatient, and bored.

I blinked up at him, startled. I didn't understand why my heart pounded just by hearing his voice. "I—uh…" I stammered, unsure of how to respond.

He sighed exasperatingly like he was already tired of the conversation and I began to wonder if I'd somehow stepped into a kidnapping gone wrong when his car phone suddenly rang, breaking the tension that had been building up like steam in a pressure cooker. Without so much as a glance at me, he pressed a button on the steering wheel,

"Kenneth," he barked into the car's speaker, startling me again "Make it quick." He added.

What was this man's problem?

"Alpha," a male voice filled the car. "Mr. Williams sent over his lawyer with the contract. The one about his daughter…" the voice said, sounding more whiny than alarmed.

The man groaned. Loudly. "The maid deal again? Are you kidding me?"

"It gets worse, sir," the voice continued, "The elders have organized a ball in your honor, it is already in full swing at the hotel. They insist you attend."

A ball? My mind raced with a thousand and one questions; who were these people?

The man sighed so heavily it was a wonder he didn't deflate like a balloon and then he slammed his hand on the steering wheel, "Damn it, Kenneth! You're practically useless," he snapped, his tone oozing irritation. I jumped with a squeak. Before I could process what was happening, he made a sharp U-turn that had my stomach doing somersaults. The car screeched as it spun around, and I clutched at my seatbelt, trying not to scream.

"I—I can get out here if you want," I said, my voice shaky, sounding more like a mouse squeaking than a human speaking. The thought of him directing his anger on me scared the shit out of me.

"Not happening," he replied curtly, his forest-green eyes never leaving the road. It was as if my existence barely registered on his radar. Great, I thought, just great. I was trapped in a car with a man who clearly had the emotional range of a teaspoon and the patience of a five-year-old on a sugar high.

I shifted on my seat, my heart pounding so loud in my ears it could almost deafen me and I didn't know what to do to get away from the crazy man. But funny enough, there was a part of me that wanted to stay with him, even though I was scared to death at this point.

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look," he said, his voice sounding more calmer than before, "don't get any ideas. I'm not your knight in shining armor, alright? I just... didn't want to leave you crying in a parking lot."

I stared at him, eyes wide in shock. The audacity of this guy—to think I wanted anything more than to get out of his car!

I was fuming, but for some reason, I couldn't muster the courage to defend myself. Pathetic.

He glanced over again, voice calm but sharp. "Look, what's your name?"

Caught off guard, I barely managed to whisper, "Teresa," afraid he'd snap again.

"Right," he muttered, almost to himself. "Teresa. Well, buckle up because we're headed to a place I didn't want to go to in the first place, thanks to some incompetent people around me."

Kenneth, who I'd forgotten was still on the line, quickly stammered, "Sorry, sir," before the man hung up on him.

I swallowed, trying once more to get out of this situation. "I really don't want to be a bother—"

"Too late for that," he cut in, a creepy smirk forming on his lips. "Besides, my wolf might riot if I leave you anywhere alone right now."

I blinked. "Your wolf?"

With a dramatic sigh, he responded, "Yeah, my wolf. You know, the big angry voice in my head that insists you're 'the one.'"

What? I was riding in a car with a full-blown lunatic. My pulse quickened.

He chuckled darkly, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm just as confused as you are."

At that moment, I knew I was in serious trouble.

With a sly smirk, he added, almost tauntingly, "And don't go getting any ideas. This isn't some grand romantic gesture. You're just... coming along for the ride. Nothing more." He paused, then added with a hint of amusement, "Oh, and by the way, the name's Lucian Blackwood."

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. All I could think was: This psycho's going to kill me and dump my body somewhere.

******

About twenty nerve-wracking minutes later, Lucian pulled into a circular driveway in front of a building that looked like a palace disguised as a hotel. It had the kind of opulence that screamed "rich people only," complete with marble columns and a waterfall that seemed to exist solely for the purpose of being decorative. A valet rushed over to take his car, and Lucian, ever the charmer, gestured at me to get out with all the enthusiasm of a cat coughing up a hairball.

"Get out. Follow me," he said, not bothering to check if I'd actually done as he ordered before striding off towards the entrance. I hesitated for a moment, considering my options, but since running into the arms of a complete stranger had already landed me here, I figured why not follow through?

I half-ran and half-jogged to keep up with his long strides. The man was all legs, practically galloping towards a private section of the hotel, his tailored suit flapping slightly behind him. We reached a set of massive guards who looked like they could benchpress a car. They straightened up at Lucian's approach, moving aside immediately, but shot me a look that clearly said, "Who let the riff-raff in?"

Lucian didn't even break stride. He waved a hand dismissively. "Let her through," he commanded, his voice as smooth as the overpriced scotch he probably drank. The guards complied, though they still looked like they were mentally measuring my worth in comparison to Lucian's bespoke shoes.

By the time I caught up with him at the elevator, I was panting like I'd just run a marathon. Lucian, however, stood perfectly still, his face as impassive as ever. Once the elevator doors closed behind us, he turned to me with an expression that could have been boredom or annoyance—I couldn't quite tell.

"Listen," he began, as if I had any other choice, "you're going to stay out of my way, keep your mouth shut, and not talk to anyone. Understand?" His eyes narrowed slightly, making me feel like I was a particularly bothersome insect. "You can eat and drink whatever you want, just don't get in my way."

I nodded, more out of self-preservation than agreement. As the elevator doors slid open, we were greeted by the sight of what looked like a high-class ball. Women in designer gowns and men in tailored suits mingled, sipping champagne as if it was their God-given right. The opulence of the room made my simple office attire feel like a crime against fashion.

Suddenly I regretted not wearing the red dress Luke proposed to me this morning.

Every pair of eyes in the room turned to look at us, or rather, at Lucian. The whispers started almost immediately. "Who's that with him?" I heard someone hiss. "Is she his new assistant? She's not nearly pretty enough for that," another voice said. I resisted the urge to shrink into myself.

Lucian marched over to a table where three women and a man stood. They all looked like they belonged on the cover of a luxury lifestyle magazine. One of the women, a stunning brunette with a voice like honey, asked, "Lucian, who's this?"

"She's not to be disturbed," Lucian said flatly. Then, for the first time since I'd met him, he smiled. It wasn't a warm, friendly smile but a calculated one, like a snake sizing up its prey. "I have some business to take care of. Kenneth, come with me," he ordered, pulling the man aside with a jerk of his head. Kenneth looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but reluctantly followed Lucian, the two of them disappearing through a set of ornate double doors.

Left alone with three women who looked ready to skin me alive, I swallowed hard and tried to look anywhere but at their glaring eyes. A waiter passed by with a tray of drinks, and I grabbed one, then another. The alcohol warmed me up and numbed the edge of fear. Before I knew it, I'd downed three glasses, my vision beginning to blur.

"Who do you think you are?" one of the women snapped, leaning closer with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Just as I opened my mouth to mumble some kind of apology, my tongue felt heavy, and I giggled. "I have no idea," I said, slurring my words. "But he's fun, isn't he? All brooding and handsome. Like a vampire, but with less biting, I hope."

The women exchanged looks, their perfectly manicured eyebrows shooting up in surprise. One of them burst into laughter, the sound light and melodic, catching the attention of a few party-goers nearby. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be as bad as I'd thought.