Wicked Werewolf Read Online Free

longer welcome.
    Alyia cleared the masses of slot machines that were as plentiful as the wolves the humans didn’t know surrounded them, then headed to Tower 3. That would be the VIP section of the property, where only Society wolves and select others were allowed. Like she had been while aiding the wolves in the civil war. Her boots hit the tiled floor. She stopped a few steps before she came into view of the base of the elevators. Just to the left of the security desk was the wooden arched doorway of the VIP bar that was her destination.
    ‘Benedanti’ the sign above the door read, and she ground her teeth, all too aware the location had meant to intimidate her. The name was a reference to a mythical pack of Italian werewolves alleged to have hunted evil witches. Much like Nico, who had apparently hunted her and her necklace. Her fingers balled into fists by her sides. She was going to show him evil all right. The wolf wasn’t the one winning this battle.
    Aylia headed for the bar’s entryway, not the least bit surprised when a bulky security guard, dressed in his typical Men-in -Black-wanna-be dark suit, stepped forward to block her entry. She knew him, just as many of the wolves here would know her.
    “Aylia,” the wolf, Ned Wright, said with a nod. His lips curved with the flare of his nostrils, his hazel eyes raking over her.
    “Ned,” she replied, suddenly all too aware of the wild mass of her long, chestnut hair and most likely smudged makeup. Not that her appearance mattered. A wolf’s sensitive nose would smell sex, anger, and Nico, all over her.
    “What’d he do?” Ned asked, not bothering with a name. “Break out the champagne and roses?”
    Like wolves were ever about champagne and roses, she thought, but Aylia bit back the reply and the reference to the very nasty way she and Nico had parted ways. She’d save her anger for the wolf that deserved it. “Is he here?”
    “Downstairs,” Ned said and she was walking before the word was fully out.
    Almost immediately, Aylia cut to her right, quickly traveling a set of stairs leading to the bottom level of the bar. The sound of an old AC/DC classic, a Nico favorite, touched her ears, bringing back memories better forgotten. She quickened her pace. She wanted Nico behind her; she wanted to stop thinking about him and wanting him. The six months she’d lived here, working to bind the Red virus in the infected wolves, when she’d been in his bed and life, had meant something to her, but not to him.
    Aylia cleared the last step to the lower level of the bar without stopping, a witch back on a mission, a witch about to go alpha on an alpha. He’d betrayed her, he’d used her, he’d hurt her. It was all she could process, all she knew. She rushed down an aisle between packed wooden tables and a leather covered bar, ignoring the stares of a busy Friday night crowd.
    She found Nico where he always was when he was here, in the back room, standing at a pool table, looking like sex and sin in leather; power effortlessly radiated off of him. She stopped under an archway and his amber-colored eyes lifted from where his second-in-charge, Kole Smith, was leaning forward about to take a shot, his long blond hair tied at his nape.
    If she’d expected some show of surprise at her presence, there was none. Those eyes of Nico’s were so calculating, so probing, so aware of her on levels no other man had ever been, and she feared, never would be again. His gaze found hers. Time stood still, and there was only the two of them, the tension between them, the accusations, and yes, the passion. She tried not to think about him naked, her naked, about the things they’d done together, but there was no hope. Even his neatly trimmed goatee reminded her of oh how perfectly it had rasped her skin only hours before.
    That she wanted him after his betrayal defied reason. It angered her that she could still want him after all he’d put her through, both past and present. Aylia