Moon Glamour by Aimee Easterling (books to read to be successful TXT) 📕

hadn’t even been willing to talk to me when I hunted him down as a newly orphaned teenager. Still, I trusted him more than the territorial alpha literally flexing his muscles in front of me.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate, do you?” I countered. “I’d rather stay with my father instead.”

“In the bachelor barracks?” Rowan frowned.

“If that’s where my father lives.”

For a moment, I thought Rowan would refuse me. But then he shrugged and barked out an order. “Empty room three for our guest.”

The emphasis was interesting. Male eyes fell away from me, sliding to an approaching woman instead. Her they considered hungrily...and Rowan didn’t speak up in her defense. Just let them look.

I looked too, although not for the same reason. The woman’s hair was wet, suggesting she’d been part of the showering gaggle. But she was dressed now, if you could call a sports bra and tiny shorts dressed. There was less fabric on her body than she carried in her arms.

“Alpha.” Her eyes stayed on the floor as she extended the folded bundle toward Rowan. So the stack of towel and clothes were for him?

No. He thumbed through the fabric as if testing it. Whatever the reason, it must have passed muster because he graced the woman with another nod. This time, she offered me the clothing.

“Thanks....” I let my voice trail off, expecting an introduction. But her back was already to me, bare feet slapping on the ground in her haste to retreat.

The men were gone too. I got the impression they’d been lingering until the word guest was thrown out there. Now, the only person remaining was someone who appeared to be a guard, standing at the doorway that led back the way I’d come.

No, that wasn’t true. Another male cut through the far end of the shower room, entering the side the women had disappeared into. Moments later, he stalked back out, a girl who looked like she was about Harper’s age trailing behind.

She might be Harper’s age, but she was nothing like Harper. Instead, this girl was dressed in a negligee, hair curled and lips pouty with applied color. The male stunk of sexual interest. The girl’s scent was covered up by perfume.

“What...?” I started.

“Dress,” Rowan interrupted, opening a full-length locker that was more of a closet. The perfectly pressed suit inside couldn’t have been there long, not in this room full of splashing water and high humidity. Had someone been left behind just to fill lockers with clothing? I dried myself off hurriedly then shrugged on my own clothes—a skin-hugging dress that revealed more than it covered—while trying to understand this pack.

I’d thought werewolf clans hunted as a unit rather than leaving servants behind to wait on their alpha. But the younger girl’s hair hadn’t been wet. She hadn’t showered with us, likely hadn’t run with the pack either.

Meanwhile, my mother had told me that werewolf females had only two life choices—virginal pack princesses or oppressed mates. Neither had sounded particularly appetizing...but the third choice evident within Rowan’s pack boasted an even more bitter taste.

They’re a harem. It was the only conclusion that matched the data. Rowan separating me from the women in the shower room. Using the term “guest” so adamantly. Warning the other males that I was off limits...for now.

All of this ran through my head as I followed him down a maze of corridors. “Your room,” Rowan said at last, waving me into what did look very much like part of a barracks. The walls were unpainted cinderblocks. Two bunks filled up most of the space.

A host would have asked me if I needed anything. A toothbrush. Pajamas.

If he’d asked, I would have tried to wrangle my suitcase, the one with tools and electronics hidden in the lining. But Rowan didn’t offer.

Instead, he stood silent, waiting for me to either make a scene or enter the space that looked more like a cell than a bedroom. No windows. No knick knacks. Only a thin, grunge-colored blanket folded on the end of each bed.

Unfortunately, there was no point in making a scene when every wolf in this compound answered to Rowan. So I stepped into the room as the door closed behind me. The door knob, when I tested it ten seconds later, was locked.

Chapter 28

The door was locked, but the corridor was busy. Footsteps passed, heavy booted ones then soft barefoot ones. The latter intrigued me, so even though I didn’t expect to be answered I called out anyway.

“Hello?”

The footsteps paused. For a moment, I thought they’d continue away from me. Instead, I caught a whiff of sex and perfume as someone female pressed up against the outside of my door.

“The alpha said you weren’t to be bothered.”

“But I stopped you,” I reassured her. “You didn’t approach me.” Then, before she could think up an argument, I attempted to tug at her sense of hospitality. “Could you possibly track down my luggage? I suspect Troy didn’t know where to take my suitcase....”

The female voice turned regretful. “I’m afraid I’d need the alpha’s permission to do that.”

Frustrating but expected. I changed tacks. “Do you have a key to my room?”

“The alpha...”

She didn’t have to finish her sentence. Didn’t get to either, because the light went out above my head.

The woman squeaked and retreated, footsteps slapping frantically. While she fled, I fumbled in search of backup illumination.

But there was no switch by the door. No bedside lamp. Just one overhead bulb that was on then off.

Shedding my dress, I shifted to wolf form. I’d expected lupine eyes to make the expanse penetrable. But the room was still pitch dark. No light leaked in through cracks around the door.

So perhaps the entire compound had a mandatory bedtime? One that affected even the hallway lights? What if someone needed to get up and use the bathroom while the rest of us slept?

Sniffing through the pitch blackness, I discovered the solution to that problem. A tiny half bath, not