Revolting

Chapter Twenty- The War Room Michael

I glanced around the sitting room of my pack house, my eyes sharply scanning for anything out of place. Everything had to be perfect, from the fresh cut flowers on the antique table, to the carefully coordinated pillows on the couches. William was coming and I was determined that East Glade would make a good impression. I'd had the omegas clean and polish everything from top to bottom. I didn't want to see a speck of dust or a single wolf-hair on anything.

I checked my hair in the mirror over the table, and smoothed out my collar. I was wearing a deep burgundy shirt today with the sleeves rolled up and the buttons half undone. The shirt was tucked into sharply pleated slacks, and even my shoes. had been shined until I could practically see my reflection in the expensive Italian leather.

Right on time, the guards linked me to inform me that my guest had arrived. I went to the window to watch expectantly as his car crunched its way up the gravel drive. He was punctual. That was an excellent quality, it denoted responsibility and attention to detail. Just another reason to admire William, as if I needed more. I was already obsessed with the man, literally. He was all I thought about, night and day. He was in my thoughts so constantly that it was becoming a distraction.

William was perfect, in every way. Fuck the mate bond, I didn't need some mythical goddess to decide who was fated for me. William was easy-going, a perfect match for my sometimes too-intense personality. He never took anything too seriously, especially himself, which was absolutely endearing. I'd never met a man with fewer hang-ups, even though he had confessed to me that he grew up in a very restrictive and unsupportive home. He was completely comfortable in his own skin, something I honestly envied.

I watched him shut the door to his car, and look up at the house. Even from the distance, I could see his azure blue eyes. If his amazing personality wasn't enough to make me fall for him, his physical beauty would have clinched it. His long lean body was both masculine and graceful. His muscles were lean and defined, a perfect contrast to my bulk. He fit into my arms like his body was made just for me.

The more I had of him, the more I needed him. He was like a drug, and with every hit I was getting more and more addicted. If too many days passed without his touch, I got the DT's, I was jumpy and irritated. I needed him with me, beside me, all the time. This casual dating arrangement had been my idea, but I was not satisfied. I needed him exclusively and completely. Just the idea of him even thinking about another man made my blood boil. I needed to possess him. I needed to mark him and make him mine.

But I was getting ahead of myself. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and went to the door to welcome him to my home. First things first, I had to convince him to leave his pack, and join me at East Glade. I knew it wouldn't be easy to convince him. William was fiercely loyal, another one of his exemplary qualities. The problem was, he was loyal to the wrong pack. I needed to persuade him that his loyalties belonged with me, with us.

He stepped up the door, his smile wide as he gave a low whistle. "Quite the place you've got here, Mike."

I smiled back for a brief second, before I threw all formalities out the window. I took his face in my hands and leaned down for a kiss. I needed his lips like a drowning man needed to breath. To hell with everything else. He melted against me willingly, and eagerly, which only fueled my fire. William was a man who knew what he wanted, and wasn't afraid to make it known.

When we finally came up for air, he produced a bottle of wine I hadn't even noticed he was carrying. "A gift for the host," he said, licking his lips with appreciation. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."

I groaned, I was starving too, but what I needed wasn't going to be found in the kitchen. I had to remind myself that we were on a mission, a mission to seduce William into our pack. I had to be the gracious Alpha, not a hormonal, sex-starved maniac. “Mmmm, the chefs are preparing a prime rib roast, I believe," I said casually. As if I hadn't planned and tweaked and harassed the kitchen staff for hours to perfect the menu. "Perhaps I can give you a tour while we wait for dinner?" "Sure!" he set the bottle on the antique table, and I tried not to cringe, hoping the bottle didn't scratch the original finish.

I put my arm around his shoulders, satisfying the craving I had to touch him constantly, and started leading him through the house. The rooms on the lower story were mostly public rooms, the formal sitting room, the entertainment room, the huge formal dining room, the recently remodeled kitchen. There was a nursery for babies, and a small infirmary. Our pack was too small for a full time physician, but we kept a nurse on staff for minor medical needs.

William was polite, and seemed mildly impressed. For such a small pack, we had a well-organized and well outfitted pack house. I lead him to the grand staircase which lead to the second story. Here I had my office and study, a conference room, and an indoor studio that I had dubbed the war-room. This was where I did my private combat training, and the walls were adorned with all the different weapons I had collected over the years, from ancient swords and spears of antiquity, to modern compound bows and military equipment.

"Wow," William trailed around the room, examining my collection. He stopped to admire my Japanese Katana, "Do you use all of these?"

The awe in his voice pleased me. "Some of them more than others, " I said with a careless shrug. Werewolves in general preferred a more primal form of combat, and were rarely known to use guns. "The important thing is I know HOW to use them, should it be necessary."novelbin

He made a grumbling sound of approval, as he moved down to the selection of bows and cross bows, and stopped again in front of a display of my prized carbon arrows, with the four-blade silver broadhead arrowheads. He reached out a hand to touch, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. "Whoa, cowboy, you don't want to touch those!"

He looked at me with mild amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "Do you think I will cut myself?"

"Those are Rogue-Hunter arrows," I explained, "Silver blades, topped with poison."

He pulled his arm back abruptly and gave me a strange look. "What kind of poison?"