Chapter One

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Chapter Notes: Caleb's POV

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- 'I don't care, party anywhere. I'm broke, man, possibly beyond repair.' -

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     'They were going to pay for this', I had mentally chanted repeatedly throughout the night. A thorough ass-kicking, training session had Rickon and Declan's names written all over it. Not only had I been forced to endure the ridiculously loud and obnoxious noise considered by many as 'music', but had to do so while in the company of the twins' equally loud and obnoxious friends.

      I looked at the newly turned twenty-one year old twins. Rickon had been entertaining his latest girlfriend of the month while Declan tried his damn hardest to remove himself out of the line of sight of one particular red head and her swarm of friends—all of who managed to worm their way into our VIP section of the Godawful Toronto club.

I had secluded myself off in the corner long ago. For the majority of the night I kept myself occupied with my phone and mentally created a payback list while trying to secure myself at a safe enough distance away from the crowd and on-lookers down below.

      "Caleb!"

      My head shot up at the call from one of my betas, Chase, who was seated on one of the sofas across the room. He had been arguing with my other beta, Kane, moments prior, and as always—and for the sake of my sanity—I had tuned both of my seconds in command out.

"Yes, Chase?" I made little attempt to hide my irritation nor disguise the obvious look of annoyance that was surely written on my face.

      Beside Chase, Kane smirked and shook his head while he entertained a blonde--who appeared to be superglued to his arm--as a very upset looking brunette scolded the woman with an envious look.

      "Uh, never mind. Sorry." Chase lowered his gaze then turned back and argued with Kane some more. The two of them seemed to disagree more than they ever agreed on anything.

      I glanced back down at my phone at the time. It had only been three hours yet it seemed as though I had been trapped inside the club for an eternity. But torturous as it may have been, my love for my pack was undeniable and unquestionable; the very reason why I had kept my mouth shut the entire night.

Everything I did was for them. Everything I was, they had made me. A leader. An alpha. So it was only for them that I would ever entertain the idea of being stuffed inside of a club on the night of a full moon.

My wolf had not attempted to hide his own discomfort and anguish over being caged on the night of all nights. He, too, had prepared his own list of ways to pay me back, and I couldn't help but smirk to myself at the thought. I anxiously awaited the punishment he had in store for me, welcomed it and challenged him in return. Before the night was over, before the moon had a chance to retreat, we would both be reminded of who was truly in control.

      At some point in the night—amidst my attempts to deal with the headache that the over-produced music blasting through the speakers had given me—I was caught off guard by a foreign yet tantalizing scent. My wolf instantly abandoned his plans of revenge and, instead, fought tooth and nail to inch his way to the surface.

      I had learned and mastered how to control him many years ago—never had to do much more than command him to stand down—but, in that moment, the threat of losing control was a very real possibility. My wolf had latched onto the scent and was determined to locate the source.


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