Her gentle Beast

His home

*Micah*

As I walk into my residence, I cross the entrance hall and glance i to the front parlor. The hen mother of the house, Ruby, is entertaining four men, who are no doubt waiting for the girls to be ready to receive them. She is serving them drinks and telling them naughty jokes and funny stories. It has been years now since she has serviced a man in the bedroom.

When she notices me she sends me a smile and a small nod that confirms to me that everything is okay and I am not needed.

Damn, I hate this line of work to be honest.

I make my way upstairs, and on the stairs I meet Rose, as she is leading a customer back downstairs. The guy is young, and looks fresh into town from one of the packs, probably it is his first time, he does have that proud look on his face. Not that I care, I have little concern at all for these snotty ranked wolves coming to have their fun outside the packs. I am growing tired of this and of constantly having to be alert and in protective mode.

As I reach the top floor I draw a breath of relief. This is the private area, where we have our living quarters. Everyone living in the house has a private room up here, not used for customers. I decide to go into the common room and pour myself a glass of tequila. I am trying not to think of that waitress, she had been fair as an angel, a rare beauty who could tempt even a saint into sinning.

The mere memory of her is enough to cause a longing and stirring in my body, making me wish I could return to the bar right now.

Every fiber of me had gone into protective mode and I had been ready to pounce, when I had seen a man approach her as she waited outside the closed bar alone. I had not wanted to stalk her or anything bad, but as she did not seem to belong here I had wanted to make sure she was not gonna walk around alone that late. Clearly she has someone to protect her … a husband or boyfriend perhaps … As soon as I was sure she was safe I pulled back and made my way home.

Home. It seems a strange thing to call a place where women makes a living by spreading their legs to anyone who can pay.

With time and patience I have managed to find other jobs for most of the girls, helping them move on to better things. There are only half a dozen left now. But those left are not easy to elevate from their current place in society. They are in need of some education, both in terms of skills and behaviour or they won’t be able to make it outside this house.

And as long as they are stuck here, so am I.

I could never just leave them to fight for themselves. I have promised to protect them, and knowing there are a lot of men out there, for whom their lives mean very little I can not abandon them. I owe it to Silvia Lolpoly. She had trusted me and I failed her, I am not failing anyone again.

Emptying my glass I set it down and look into the embers in the fireplace.if my girls could just learn the effortless kind of grace the waitress in my sisters bar possesses … but something like that is not easily thought, it comes from growing up with others acting that way and someone constantly teaching you how to be refined in every way.

Her hands moved elegantly, like floating through water, even doing a totally average task like bringing me a drink. The calm dignity to her and her hair …

Okay so her hair had been a bit of a bird's nest, most likely she lacks the things she needs to style it properly. Maybe she is even used to someone helping her, like a stylist or something.

How I would love to slowly pull out the pins and see the long thick strands tumble down over her shoulders and frame her face.

I remember how she had tried blowing the offensive hair out of the way without much luck. There had been nothing refined about that motion and it had somehow made her even more tantalizing.

I wonder how she ended up here. Has she been involved in a sordid scandal ? Did some handsome Young man steal her heart, maybe someone off limits, like a married Alpha or maybe a human man, whom she had left the pack for and now lives with here, not caring about material things. Maybe it was her lover who had picked her up tonight, she had seemed so happy and relieved when he arrived, so he must be special to her.

Why is she even invading my mind like this ? She is a waitress in my sister's bar, nothing else. Someone who might bring me a drink now and again, that’s it.

Hey, maybe I can take one of the girls to the bar, tell her to watch the waitress, her movements, her poise. Explain that she should try and copy those things, to mimic her calm grace.

No, I would have to explain too much, and those things are not really easily explained. I don’t think watching someone in a bar and trying to copy will really work. They need to be taught, calmly, by someone who knows.

Yeah like a tutor, but where does one find one ? And any who knows manners, poise and the art of carrying yourself and is willing to try and teach it to these young women. It’s not like this part of the city is filled with someone like that.

Leaning back in the chair I pick back up the glass, turning it slowly and watching how the warm light from the fireplace reflects in the facets, making the last few drops shimmer.

No, this area doesn’t have many educated people, but it does have at least one.

And I know just where to find her.