Wicked lessons by the rogue

Her worst nightmare

*Odette*

"Why were you talking with Lupo Tempest?" My brother Owen asks, his voice tinged with disapproval, as the carriage rolls through the quiet streets.

The ball will undoubtedly continue until dawn, but after my encounter with Tempest in the alcove, I had been more than ready to leave. Thankfully, our little tryst had gone unnoticed, thanks to the Goddess. I had lost all enthusiasm for dancing and requested my brother to escort me home. He gladly accommodated my request, surely eager to head off to his Alpha club.

Glancing at him across the way, I can't decipher his expression, but his voice hints at his disapproval. "I was thirsty. I asked him to fetch me something to drink."

"You would have been better off seeking the attention of an Alpha. Father entrusted an immense sum in a trust for you, specifically for a dowry to attract the most influential Alphas. You should set your sights on someone like Riverdale. He's an Alpha, for Goddess's sake."

"Riverdale has no intention of taking a wife. He attended tonight solely because of his friendship with Silverpine. And rest assured, I have no interest in Tempest as a suitor." I huff.

He nods. "See that you don't. I do like the fellow, but father would roll over in his grave. He entrusted me with the duty of ensuring you mate well, and I intend to fulfill that duty."

"Wouldn't it be more beneficial for you to focus on fulfilling your duty of finding a mate who is an heiress?" It has been two years since our father's passing, and I am aware that our coffers are not as abundant as they once were.

Owen glances out the window. "I had hoped for Faye. Now I must begin my search anew. It is a bothersome task."

Marriage between Owen and Faye would have been disastrous. He needs someone who is not as rebellious.

"Don't you think I find the search for a husband just as bothersome?" I ask.

"Bothersome it may be, but it is a condition of your trust. It's a pity you can't access the funds before you find a mate. We could have some jolly fun with the money," he replies, turning his attention back to me. "But once you're wed, your husband will take control of it, and that will be the end of it."

"The funds become mine if I don't marry by my thirtieth birthday," I state. And that is precisely my plan. Much like Riverdale, I have no desire to tie the knot, I do not want a mate. I may pretend, even make Faye and Melina believe that I want to marry for love, but the truth is, I wish to remain a spinster, never beholden to a man.

No man will ever love me enough to forgive me for what I have done, and it is a secret I cannot conceal from a mate forever.

"If you want gowns for the next mating Season, you'd better marry during this one," Owen interjects, interrupting my thoughts.

My heart skips a beat. "Are things truly that dire?"

He shrugs. "Investments haven't turned out as I had hoped. I even considered taking a loan from your trust to tide me over until my situation improves. I had my solicitor review the details, but your funds are locked up tighter than a drum. Only your marriage to a commoner or your death would release them into my hands."

A shiver runs through me, unsettled by the knowledge that Owen has been seeking a way into my trust fund. That money belongs to me, my dowry, the key to my future and my freedom. My father intended for me to have it, and Owen will simply have to find another solution. "I certainly won't marry a commoner. In fact, I doubt I'll marry anyone at all. And I have no intention of dying anytime soon."

"If you want to have any spending money before you turn thirty, you'll have to marry an Alpha, even if he's on his deathbed. Honestly, Odette, I'm in quite a predicament here," Owen laments.

"That's why you were interested in Faye, because of her large dowry," I remark.

"Well, yes, of course," he replies, as if it should be obvious.

I shake my head. "She wanted to marry for love."

"I can assure you that if a woman brings wealth to my coffers, I will love her a great deal," he states matter-of-factly.

"That's not the kind of love Faye desired," I retort. "I'm glad she didn't take your proposal seriously."

"Well, I'm not glad at all. Silverpine didn't need her fortune. He has a bloody fortune of his own. It's not fair," he complains.

I could certainly enlighten him about things that aren't fair, but I suspect he may be exaggerating the severity of his financial situation. "How dire are things really?" I inquire.

"Just refrain from buying any new gowns," he responds wearily.

"I fail to see why I should be inconvenienced because of your mismanagement," I assert as the carriage comes to a halt in front of our residence. "Besides, I'm sure something will come up."

Surely there must be an heiress somewhere who will seriously consider his proposal.

Owen chuckles softly. "It had better happen quickly, as creditors will soon come knocking. And you're absolutely right, sister. We wouldn't want you to be inconvenienced, would we?"

Before I can reply, the footman opens the door and helps me out of the carriage. My brother follows suit.

"Aren't you going to the club?" I ask as we ascend the steps.

"Our conversation has dampened my desire to engage in merriment. I think I'll simply drink myself into oblivion," he replies.

He opens the door, and we step into the foyer.

"It won't make your troubles go away," I point out.

"But it will make me forget them for a while." Leaning in, he kisses my cheek. "Sleep well, Odette."

He takes a couple of steps before I call out, "Owen?"

Stopping, he glances back over his shoulder.

I release a long sigh of exasperation. "I won't buy any new gowns, but I won't be happy about it."

He gives me a small smile. "I wouldn't expect you to be. And I'm sure you're right. Something will come up. I just need to think about it."

I watch as he walks down the hallway. For a brief moment, I consider going after him, but I have my own problems to deal with. At the forefront is how to make Lupo Tempest pay for the stolen kiss.

The next time our paths cross, I will give him a proper reprimand. I will publicly snub him. I will tell Faye exactly what kind of rogue he is. Perhaps her family will kick him out, the scoundrel.

I make my way upstairs, and it's only when I reach the top that I realize I've been searching for any lingering taste of him on my lips. How can someone so sinful taste so delicious? Has he kissed other women tonight? Probably. I despise the thought of it, of him in a dim corner with another she-wolf, tangling his fingers in her hair, claiming her mouth as if he can't live without it.

Entering my bedchamber, I decide I'll need a bath tonight to wash away his scent. After pulling the bellpull to summon my maid, I pace. I'm not in the mood for a bath, but it must be done. Otherwise, I'll carry his aroma into my dreams. The last thing I want is for him to visit me in my sleep.

Turning at the sound of footsteps, I scowl at my maid. "Why are you dawdling? Help me with my clothing. I feel a headache coming on. I'll want some warm milk before I retire."

"Yes, Miss."

It is nearly an hour later, and I find myself in my nightclothes, curled up on the settee, staring into the flames of a low fire. Colleen is supposed to be preparing the warm milk. Why is it taking so long? The staff moves as slow as molasses around here. I'll have to speak with the housekeeper about this matter again. Honestly, ever since my father's death, the staff has fallen into disarray. Owen really needs to be more assertive, more like Tempest.

I highly doubt that Tempest's servants dawdle. If he even has servants. I doubt that he does or ever will. He no longer resides with Faye's family. From what I understand, he lives in the gaming hell that he manages. I wonder if that's where he entertains women. I shake my head. I refuse to think about him entertaining other women.

Where is my warm milk? I get up from the settee just as Colleen enters the room, empty-handed. "What on earth, Colleen? Do you not value your position here?"

"My apologies, Miss, but the Alpha sent me up to begin packing your things. He says you'll be leaving within the hour."

"It's half past eleven. I'm not going anywhere."

Colleen looks terribly apologetic when I mutter, "He seems to think otherwise."

"Well, we shall certainly see about that."

I practically sprint down the stairs. My brother is most likely in a drunken stupor. It makes no sense to travel at this hour. Even if he's in some sort of trouble with creditors that requires a hasty departure, it can wait until a decent hour. And why should it involve me? I'm not the one facing difficulties.

As I approach the library, a servant opens the door. I storm through, only to come to a sudden halt as fear courses through me. The door softly clicks shut behind me, leaving me trapped with my worst nightmare.