A Curse of Fate (Shifter City Fated Mates #1)

Chapter 28

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

A fter Cora dropped me back at Reeves Pack house, I checked the group chat messages.

Golden Boy: I hope your lunch is going well. I miss you.

Golden Boy: We’re being kept late at practice, pretty girl. They’ve got a bunch of press and photos that we can’t get out of. But Slade agreed to take you to Luxuria. The club.

I blinked twice, re-read it, and immediately started to panic.

Slade agreed . The freaking dragon shifter agreed to drive me to work! Why? So he could burn me alive and pretend I’d stumbled into a forest fire?

In a daze I continued reading through the messages.

Daddy Alpha: He needs to stop by the stadium and brief his squad first, so can you be ready by 4 P.M, Emme?”

*Grouchy Bear has left the conversation*

*Slade has left the conversation*

Not the most auspicious start to him driving me to work.

Pretty Girl: Uh, are you guys sure? I really don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Is it walking distance maybe? I’m home with enough time for a decent trek.

I hadn’t bothered to change my name again, because Kellan woke up every morning and chose violence with this chat, and it was kind of growing on me.

Hunter answered within a few seconds.

Daddy Alpha: Not a chance, Emmeline. Do not leave the house without an escort. Alphas are already arriving in Golden Claw, which makes it even more unsafe than usual. Slade will do his part to protect the pack, and that includes you.

Pretty Girl: But am I truly safe with Slate? I haven’t actually met him. You know that, right?

It had to be said, especially now that I knew exactly what creature he shared his soul with.

Slade: You are perfectly safe. I do this favor for my brothers.

Wait. What? He’d left the fucking chat.

Golden Boy: You left the chat, bro?? How are you still in here? I should have to add you back because I created it.

*Slade has left the conversation*

Daddy Alpha: If it’s electronic, Slade can control it. Don’t ask how he does, just accept that he can.

I’d forgotten that terrifying tidbit about him, but at least he’d confirmed, in writing—for what it was worth—that he wasn’t planning on murdering me today.

It would have to do.

Pretty Girl: What should I wear tonight? Is this your typical dress sexy nightclub? Or is there a uniform?

The next two messages delivered at the same time.

Golden Boy: Sexy!

Daddy Alpha: Do not dress sexy! I don’t have time to be killing anyone.

Daddy Alpha: There’s no uniform, but the staff tend to dress in all black. They’ll provide the rest.

Black I could do.

Golden Boy: See you tonight, Shortcake. I’ll be the one tipping big so you can flash me that smile.

My heart fluttered, delicate tiny flutters that I’d never felt before.

It couldn’t mean anything good. Probably a heart attack.

Moving to my wardrobe, I pawed through the rows of hanging items, narrowing my eyes as I found extra clothes that hadn’t been there this morning. Someone had stealthily added clothes while I was out, sliding them between items.

Kellan was my first thought, but it could just as easily be Hunter. His instincts were to take care of his pack, and he was controlling enough not to care how I felt about his intrusion.

Deciding I’d deal with the culprit later, I pulled out a pair of black slacks that were tight enough to hug my ass— because tips —but wouldn’t get anyone murdered. I paired them with a black tank that flashed only moderate cleavage.

Dropping both on the bed with new underwear, I raced into the bathroom for a quick shower. When I was clean and dry, I opened the drawer for my hairbrush, only to find it was now filled with brand new makeup.

Enough to replace everything I’d left behind, plus so much more.

What in the…?

Whoever had topped up my clothes had been in here as well, and as heat burned behind my eyes, I let myself have a tiny moment. No one had ever taken care of me before.

Not even my mother.

Without asking, one of the alphas had seen my need and provided for me. Damn them.

There wasn’t even anyone here to yell at, and for once I was tempted to just accept the gift and not think about the strings that were no doubt attached.

Were they trying to buy me? Would I end up owing them too much to ever leave?

Or was this a genuine gift?

As I rifled through the drawer, I recognized all the brands—everything was top of the line and expensive. Deciding that whatever I used I would have purchased anyway, and I could pay them back with my wages, I removed a few items.

It took five attempts to get my eyeliner and mascara right, but by the time I’d finished, I was happy with the final results. Dark liner, red lips, and a dusting of powder over my nose. It blended my freckles until they weren’t as obvious, since the Strawberry Shortcake look wasn’t for everyone, and I needed maximum tips.

I pulled my hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of my face, and then got dressed in the black clothes. There was still an hour until Slade needed to leave, so I spent time googling the club and bringing up their menus to familiarize myself.

I’d never been to conventional school, having learned only what Mom bothered to teach me before she met her pack. After that, she gave up completely, though it wasn’t all her fault.

Whenever I tried to read, letters jumbled around in words. Half the time they made no sense, but whatever. I’d long ago accepted that I was a dumbass with a kindergarten reading level.

Thankfully, I’d spent years in bars, so most of Luxuria’s drinks were already familiar to me, and they only had limited snacks—mostly wings and tacos—which wouldn’t give me the issues I had at Golden Fin.

I needed to ask Hunter what had happened with Bradley, and if there was any fallout from his douchery, but it could wait for another day. Maybe if I enjoyed working at their bar, I could keep it as my main job for a while.

At ten to four I wandered downstairs, dressed and already sweating. Not because it was hot, or I was particularly nervous about the job, but because I was about to spend time in an enclosed space with a dragon shifter. A fucking dragon shifter.

There was no sign of Slade as I waited by the front door, fiddling with the couple of items I had on me: my phone, the cash left over from lunch today, and a lipstick for touchups through my shift.

The scent of toasted marshmallow wrapped around me first, and he arrived so silently I couldn’t be sure he didn’t sprout wings and glide down.

Could he partially shift like wolves?

The avalanche of questions in my mind was cut off as Slade, dressed in boots, black combat pants, and a black shirt stretched to capacity over his massive, muscled body, strode past me without a word. I found myself racing behind like a lost duckling.

He led me through a section of the house that I hadn’t been to before. We passed the laundry and the drying room, and then he opened a door to reveal a set of stairs.

He didn’t glance back once, and I got the sense that this was a test of some description. Neither of us wanted to be here, and he especially didn’t want to be doing this and wouldn’t be making it easy on me.

Mate. My wolf’s whine this time was filled with a thread of insecurity, as if even she was unsure we could handle a mate like Slade. Don’t get me wrong, she wanted him, but that need was diluted by fear. You and me both, sister . You and me both.

Knowing I couldn’t reveal my distress, I followed without fuss, all the while hoping he hadn’t decided to lead me into their creepy murder basement. When I reached a large metal door, I pushed against it, the heavy material taking a few seconds to move.

I stepped through to the other side and found myself in heaven on Earth.

A heaven built of cars and bikes. All the beautiful, beautiful bikes.

Stumbling toward them, I trailed down the rows of Hondas and Yamahas, grinding to a halt when I reached the very last bike.

Okay, now I hoped that my new mascara’s waterproof claim held up, because I was going to cry. Since arriving in Golden Claw, the pendulum of my emotions had been swinging wildly, keeping me constantly on the edge of waterworks, but come on … it was my dream bike.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I whispered, gazing lovestruck at the Ducati Panigale V4R.

My hand hovered over the shiny black tank, and I debated how much I truly cared if the alphas killed me after sealing the mate bond.

Provided I got a chance to ride this baby first.

“What are you doing?” I jumped at his low, rumbly voice.

This was the first time Slade had spoken to me, and I was surprised by the faintest hint of an accent that felt as if it originated in Europe. It suited him though, reminding me that he was an ancient, terrifying beast.

“Staring at my dream bike.”

Silence followed my statement, and I was surprised to find that I wanted to stare at the dragon even more than the bike. His expression was neutral, those beautiful, unearthly eyes locked on the row of bikes. “Which one is your dream bike?”

My hand shook as I pointed toward her. “The Panigale. I’d sell all non-essential body parts for one.”

Silence again outside of a low rumble. It wasn’t an angry sound… more curious. “That one is mine.” His tone gave nothing away, leaving me unable to tell if he was unhappy or not by my love for this bike.

“Are we riding her today?” I squeaked, barely daring to breathe at the thought.

“No.”

Ouch . It was that easy for him to shatter my tiny hope, as he once again became scary shifter. He moved away from the row of bikes, and I gave them all a last longing stare. Soon, precious ones.

When I got a chance, I’d have to ask Kellan if any of them were his. Surely there’d be one I could borrow for a quick ride.

As Slade moved deeper into the garage, I experienced the rest of the incredible lineup, barely holding in my gasps at each new revelation. “Range Rover p615, Bugatti Chiron, Ferrari SF90, Bentley Continental GT, Rolls Royce Cullinan… in the fucking Black Badge edition.” I kept chanting through them because this was almost as unbelievable as the existence of dragons. “A Rolls Royce Ghost, Lamborghini Revuelto, Bentley Flying Spur—oh, and four Porsche GT3 RS’s. Of course.”

Their Porsches were no doubt what they used on the track, seeing as they were purpose-built racecars. Goddess, they’d handle like a dream around a track.

Not everything was a supercar, with a few drifters, including a Mazda RX7 rotary and a Skyline R33 with what looked like an RB 26 conversion.

I’ve died and gone to motor heaven.

Near the center of the massive garage they had their classic cars, including a Chevy Impala, Mustang GT350, Corvette Stingray, and a Shelby Cobra. These alphas were more than just supercar and speed fanatics… they were true car lovers.

Finley’s TRX wasn’t here, but there were a couple of other pickup trucks, rounding off the bunch.

Slade had been silently watching me die of happiness, and when I reached his side I debated asking to sleep down here tonight. I was distracted though by the bright green car, similar in color to the eyes of the dragon who stood beside it. “Oh my goddess above. You’ve got a Lamborghini Aventador SVJ? What in the actual fuck…? Holy shit. These are… holy shit .”

He examined me like I was a foreign species crawling over his shoe. “How do you know so much about cars?”

Temporarily forgetting that he was an ancient, scary dragon, I scoffed. “Why? Because I’m poor and uneducated?”

He made no attempts to clarify if that was what he’d meant as he stared me down, unbothered by the tension between us. With a sigh, I decided there was no harm in revealing this piece of my past. “Mom lived over a mechanic’s shop with her pack. They locked me in my room all the time, but I had a secret escape out the window and down into the garage. I’d watch the cars roll in and out. The owner must have been good at his job, because the shop was a dump but he worked on the fanciest cars I’d ever seen. Sports cars, racecars, muscle cars. If it had four wheels and an engine, it went through his shop at some point.”

After catching me sneaking through a few times, the old guy, Mack, had taught me about the cars he’d worked on. A gruff old bastard, but one of the few friends in my past.

I hadn’t seen him since the day Mom died.

“I couldn’t shake my love for anything with a motor after that. Bikes are my passion, don’t get me wrong, but cars hold their own.”

Slade shook his head, a gentle movement as if he’d unsettled a thought, and without a word opened his door and slid into the driver’s side. When I ducked in under the suicide door, I noticed that he barely fit his massive frame on his side.

All of their low-slung sports had obvious modifications to accommodate alphas, but it was clearly still a squeeze.

When the doors were closed, I breathed in the scent of leather and Slade. A heady combination that had me wanting to squirm on my chair. I didn’t though, remembering how much it annoyed Hunter.

Not antagonizing the dragon was the ticket to staying alive longer.

“We could have taken your bike, you know,” I said, my words drowned out by the throaty roar of the engine. As the vibrations rumbled beneath my ass, I almost had an orgasm then and there. The feeling of all that horsepower was incomparable.

Slade shook his head, making it clear he’d heard me perfectly well. “I prefer not to be touched unless in fight training. And only because it can’t be avoided.”

I filed this away with the very limited information I knew about him. “I respect your boundaries,” I offered, hoping he understood that I’d do everything in my power to comply with his touch aversion. After all, I had plenty of my own boundaries.

Slade shot me a quick glance and offered the slightest incline of his head. I tried not to think about that tiny acknowledgement as he exited the garage, heading along the driveway down the side of the house.

I’d expected to be terrified in the presence of this dragon, and to some extent I was, but he was also… different… to what I expected. He was icy and contained, broken and terrifying, powerful and reluctant. A plethora of mysteries. And for a brief shining moment I wished to be the shifter who got to unravel them. Only I couldn’t ever get that deep with him.

Or any of the alphas.

The fact that Slade was already the most dominant and powerful shifter in the world should be comforting, but if I knew anything about power, it was that you never had enough.