Chapter 6

Wren POV

The playroom is dark but not dark enough. I refuse to turn around to face Destin. My dress is covered in vomit, and I am sure my breath is disgusting. If I would have known he was going to show up, I would have never gotten this drunk.

"Kitten," he whispers. "I need to take you home."

"I can't go out there," I whisper. "Not like this."

Placing a hand on my shoulder, Destin tries to spin me around, but I don't move. "Let me see."

I shake my head and fight back the tears in my eyes. "No. Just go."

"I am not leaving you here," he protests. "Let me take you home."

"Why do you care?" I snap at him. "You haven't cared for a year. Why now?"

"We aren't having this conversation right now," he grumbles. "Not in a fucking playroom while you are drunk."

"I'm not drunk," I spit. "Not anymore. How did you even know I was here? Or did you show up to play with someone that's not me?"

"Wren," he mutters my name. "Don't be silly. I am not sleeping with anyone. Charlie told me you were here."

I throw my hands in the air. "Of course he did."

"Do you love him?" He whispers.

I finally spin around. "What? No! Why would you ask such a thing?"

Even in the darkness of the room, I can see the concern in his eyes. I want to go to him, but I haven't forgotten the condition I am in.

"It doesn't matter," he sighs. "Let's go."

"I told you, I can't. People will talk. I can't imagine what would be more embarrassing. Vomiting in front of you or leaving this room covered in vomit."

I can't fight the tears flooding my eyes. This is my first real moment with Destin, and I vomited, cried, and then yelled at him. Finding your fated mate is supposed to be simple, but this is anything but.

Destin's eyes are roaming over my body. "Take off the dress."

"You have got to be kidding," I scoff. "I am not sleeping with you."

"Just take it off," he growls as he unbuttons his shirt.

He pulls off his shirt, and my eyes bulge out of my head. I shouldn't stare, but I can't help myself. I expected him to be gorgeous, but I was not prepared. The Gods created this man to torment my every being. There isn't an ounce of fat on his body, and his muscles look like they were carved from stone. His chest is covered in tattoos, but there is one in particular that my eye is drawn to. It is a chubby little bird right above his heart. It is a wren.

That little bird gives me a flutter of hope in my heart. Somewhere under his tough exterior, he cares for me. He might not love me, but he must care. Why else would he have a tiny bird tattooed on his body?

He is patiently waiting with his shirt in his hands. "I promise not to touch you."

"Turn around," I command him.

He snorts but complies. "You are a werewolf. Aren't you used to being naked?"

"Shut up," I hiss, shimming out of my dress.

Destin holds his shirt over his shoulder. "Put this on."

More tears flood my eyes. He is offering me a lifeline. People will think I slept with him when I walk out of here in his shirt. "What about the vomit?"

"These rooms are cleaned after each use," he informs me. "No one will know what happened in here. They will guess, but they will be wrong."

I want to accuse him of bringing women to these rooms to have fun with them, but I keep my mouth shut for now. I don't want to continue to fight with him. Maybe I can salvage the rest of the night.

Tossing my ruined dress into the corner, I slip on his shirt. "You can turn around now."

His eyes darken when he looks at me in his shirt, and his jaw clenches. Closing the distance between us, he pulls my hair out of its neat bun. His fingers lace in my hair, and he ruffles it. "There, now you look the part."

I don't have the strength to look into his eyes. "Thank you."

"Are you ready?" He whispers.

I swallow hard. "I don't think so."

He chuckles. "We can stay here until the club closes if you want."

My eyes flicker to the vomit filled corner, and I wrinkle my nose. "No."

Destin pulls me close and lifts me into his arms. Sparks fly all over my body, and I have to fight back the moans growing in my throat. He holds me tight, and I rest my head on his chest, breathing in his scent. This might be the only moment I have with him, and I want to savor it.

"Close your eyes," he whispers.

I do as he asks, and I hear the door open. He shifts me into his arms. The thump of the music is loud, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight. I don't want to know if people are looking at me. I don't want to see the judgment on their faces. The scandal that I will be faced with in the morning will be enough. The Werewolf Princess seen at a sex club.

Cool air hits my skin, and I let out a sigh of relief. Opening one eye at a time, I look around. Destin is walking me toward the ugliest pickup truck I have ever seen. The door creaks loudly when he opens it and sets me on the bench seat. The inside isn't much better than the outside, and I doubt it will even run.

I straighten his shirt around my legs and keep my eyes focused on my hands in my lap. He climbs in the driver's seat and turns the key. I wait for the engine to roar to life, but it doesn't. Instead, it sputters and stalls. Destin curses under his breath and turns the key again. I will the engine to start, but it doesn't.

Destin rests his forehead on the steering wheel and starts to laugh. "This night is not what I planned."

His laughter is contagious. "Me either."

He lifts his head and turns to me. "How do you feel about flying?"

"You can't be serious," I laugh.

"You have two options, Kitten. You can march back in there and find the triplets, or you can let me carry you back to the Gravestone Pack house."

I cringe at the thought of flying. Heights have never been a favorite of mine, but the thought of walking back into the nightclub in Destin's shirt is worse.

"Do you promise not to drop me?"

"I would never drop you," he smiles.

"There's just one thing," I say in a low voice.

"What's that?"

"Don't take me back to the pack house," I beg. "I am not ready to face Alpha Charlie."

Destin bristles slightly. "Where do you suggest I take you?"

"Anywhere but there."