Darcingtowne Wolves: The Misfits (Book 1)

Chapter Ten: The Funhouse Mirror

Penelope yelped, and kicked her foot backward and up, catching the creeper behind her right where the sun doesn’t shine. She must not have landed a direct hit, as the man didn’t immediately double over or cry out, so Penny spun around and moved to slap him hard across the face with the flat on her hand, meaning to stun him - but he grabbed her wrist tight just before it would have cracked across his skin of his cheek. s**t, he was fast.

“What in the hell Francesc-aahhh...” the man was stunned, but not because of the indirect blow Penelope landed on his groin. His voice trailed off as he realized that Penelope was not the person he thought he’d been talking to.

Penny growled and tried to yank her wrist free of the insanely hot man who was squeezing her wrist, but froze when sparks erupted across the sensitive skin of the wrist he was gripping in his rough fingers.

Now it was her turn to look shocked, and her mouth formed into a small o of surprise as she met his eyes. They were a deep, gorgeous brown with flecks of hazel and green set into a face with a strong nose that dented to one side like it had been broken before and never set properly. He had a small scar across his lower lip that looked downright lickable, and thick dark brows that arched neatly - like he cared enough for his appearance to clean them up despite how rough some of his other features were. He was a little older than her, maybe in his mid twenties, and looked like he shaved daily. He currently had a five o-clock shadow that made Penny wonder how stubble would feel against her delicate lady bits.

She thought his eyes reminded her of the forest surrounding the cabin she grew up with, and then his smell hit her, so strong that she could nearly taste it - pine and sandalwood with just a hint of mint - and she realized that it was his smell that really reminded her of home. She wanted nothing more than to bury her nose in his neck, and run her hands back through his artfully mussed wavy hair before trailing her tongue over his bobbing adam’s apple - he smelled so damn good.

Before either of them could utter so much as a “mine,” a terrified voice rang out in Penelope’s mind, instantly dispelling the lecherous mate trance she’d fallen into.

Guys...guuuuys I think I need help! Yep, I do! Help! HELP!

Penelope’s head snapped around, and she saw a commotion from the group of young men who had been smoking cigars. Then, she heard a familiar squealing sound - but instead of a squeal of excitement, it was one of fear. Penny yanked her wrist again, and this time it came free from hunk who, it seemed, was her mate. 

“Sorry, I have to, uhm..I gotta deal with that. See you later, I guess?” Penny said, forcing herself to run away from him before he could distract her with his magnetic touch.

The look of confusion and despair on her would-be mate’s face as she left him behind caused her chest to constrict, but some things were just more important to her than the mate pull was. She’d have time to track him down later.

Penelope ran toward the commotion, and saw that one of the handsome preppy polo wolves, probably ranked from the way he was carrying himself, had thrown Carrie over his shoulder like a sack of wiggling, crying potatoes. He was heading toward one of the staircases and had several young men of a similar cut to himself trailing after him, whooping and laughing.

“Put her down. Now.” Penny boomed, the barest hint of her Alpha tone seeping in.

She’d skidded to a stop near the base of the stairs, chest heaving, blonde hair flying wildly around her, though her hair was not nearly as wild as the look in her eye. Penny sucked in a deep breath and ran her tongue over her tingling gums, willing her canines not to descend.

The offending douche spun around to glare at Penelope as his boisterous group’s laughter died away. Like Penny herself, the polo wearing caveman, with his stupidly popped collar, had pale silvery blonde hair. He was tall and well built, like a male model, with icy blue eyes that he was clearly trying to stab her with. The glare Penelope responded with was just as sharp as his, maybe even sharper, and for a moment Penny felt oddly like she was looking at a male version of herself -  but distorted, like in one of those creepy funhouse mirrors. The effect was disconcerting.

“Please, please…! It’s not funny anymore.” Carrie whimpered piteously, and kicked her feet a little. “I was just teasing…! I don’t want to!”

“That is my packmate, and she has made it clear that she doesn’t want to go with you. Put her down.” Penny said more evenly as she felt Sebastian come running up behind her followed shortly by Ryan. Begrudgingly, Penny mastered herself and added a belated, “Please.”

“Of course, since you asked so nicely…” the young man drawled as he took Penelope in as he set Carrie down. “We aren’t brutes, after all.”

The young man straightened his clothes out, and tilted his chin up as he gazed imperiously down his nose at the Misfits. Carrie hopped down the few short steps and flew to her packmates sides, letting Sebastian pull her into a one armed hug.

“We got you, Carebear.” Penny heard Ryan mutter softly.

“I wasn’t going to harm her, just show her all the things she said she was curious about.” the young man said, his voice still a little heated and gaze lustful as it passed over Carrie, who hid her face against Sebastian’s chest. “This is a Rut Party after all…”

Sebastian, can you teleport us out of here? Penny asked over their group pack link while the douche in front of them continued monologuing.

All of us? At once? Maybe...I dunno. The range will be short. I can maybe get us outside. Sebastian’s response was hesitant.

“And just who do you think you’re going to impress going around looking like that, hmm?” the young man had stepped right up to Penny now, scoffing a little as he flicked a strand of her hair.

Penny knew what he saw when he looked at her, but she didn’t understand why her looks made him so mad. From the way that his jaw twitched, she knew he was growing more irritated the longer he looked. 

She was average height for she-wolf, and had long legs that only looked longer in the high heels she was perched on. She had a dancer’s build - trim, but still strong, with flowing elegant lines and gentle curves. Her face was fine featured, with a delicate nose and round lavender-blue eyes framed by thick feathery brown lashes only a few shades darker than her hair. She’d often been told she had an angelic cast to her, which always made her pillowy cupid’s bow lips turn up mischievously at the ends. She might be a bit quiet, but she didn’t consider herself particularly angelic. She had a foul mouth, a sassy attitude, and rarely backed down - even when she was wrong.

“You’re not one of us. Dyeing your hair and wearing contacts won’t win you the attention you and your packmate seem so desperate for.” the haughty young man spat.

“Excuse me?” Penelope asked, her hands balling into fists.

“You and your skanky little red haired friend came here to sleep your way into the Twilight Promenade, didn’t you? Newsflash, sweetheart, trying to make yourself look like a member of the royal family won’t get you very far. Quite frankly, I find it... disgusting.” His voice played over that last word with a vicious delicacy that made Carrie whimper again.

Penny’s eyes flashed, but just as her foot came swinging around to roundhouse the bastard in the face, Ryan grabbed her arm. A snap sounded from behind her, and then nothing was left of Penelope in the grand hall but her shoe, which had flown off her foot as she swung her leg around.