Bitten By Desire (Regent's Park Pack Book 3) Read online

  “Why didn’t you ring the bell?”

  “I did.”

  “Oh.” Mark looked at his closed bedroom door. “Shit, I shut the door. No wonder I didn’t hear you.” The bedrooms and bathrooms in shifter flats were the only fully soundproofed rooms. Mark only tended to shut his door if he had company or was having a wank.

  Will laughed. “I don’t want to know. Just get up and come let me in.”

  With a groan, Mark rolled out of bed and went to answer the door.

  “Thank you.” Will grinned and patted him on the shoulder as he passed.

  As soon as he shut the door behind them, Mark grabbed Will by the arm and ushered him through his flat to his bedroom, closing them in and ensuring their conversation was private.

  Taking a seat on Mark’s unmade bed, Will looked up at him, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “You know you’re not my type, right?”

  Mark ignored him. “You need to be more careful. Saying stuff like that where anyone could hear you is just asking for trouble.”

  Will frowned. “Who’s going to hear me? Half the building is at work, and the rest wouldn’t give a shit. It’s not like we have Wes or any of his unit living alongside us.”

  God, he wanted to explain, wanted to tell Will everything that Alpha Harley had said that morning, but Jason had told him not to. For Will’s safety as much as his own, and Mark didn’t want to go against his beta. “Please watch what you say, Will. You don’t know who’s listening.”

  This time Will stood and walked over to where Mark leaned against the door. He put a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? What happened over at R-pack this morning?”

  Mark shook his head. “I can’t talk about it. Don’t ask me to.”

  “I saw Jason earlier. He told me to keep quiet about the jackets we got, said since it wasn’t Newell’s usual way of doing things, he’d prefer we didn’t disclose how we got them.” Squeezing Mark’s shoulder, he met his gaze. “I thought it was a bit weird, and Jason was unusually tight-lipped about it. Nothing like his normal, laid-back self. Does that have something to do with what happened?”

  “Fuck, I want to tell you, but—”

  “But you can’t, I get it.”

  It’s for your own safety. I don’t want to put you in danger.

  Will turned and went back over to sit on Mark’s bed. He flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what Newell’s hoping to achieve by keeping it all quiet. I mean, it’s not like R-pack are going to sit on it. Sooner or later it’s bound to get out. He should have a pack meeting, let his own fucking pack know what’s going on so we don’t have to find out from someone else.”

  The lack of respect Will had for his alpha was no secret to anyone in their unit. The six shifters under Jason were a tight-knit group, and Mark trusted all of them with his life. Thankfully Will had the good sense not to mention it outside of their group.

  Mark sat down beside him and leaned back on his hands. He thought of all the R-pack members who’d witnessed Alpha Harley’s accusations. Unless told otherwise, he couldn’t imagine Nathan keeping quiet; he hated Newell and with good reason. “It was Jason who told me not to talk about it.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yep. I’m not sure why, because like you say, it’ll all come out soon enough.” Especially when members of the council arrive and start asking questions. “But I’m sure he has his reasons.”

  “Fair enough.” Will fell quiet for a few moments, then poked Mark in the side. “That means whatever happened was pretty fucking bad, yeah?”

  Mark sighed and tried not to relive his near-death experience again. “Yeah.” That train of thought inevitably led him back to the R-pack beta who’d saved his life.

  Alec Knight.

  Tall, dark, and menacing.

  At five feet eleven, Mark wasn’t short, but Alec had about five inches on him and broad shoulders that filled out his clothes with no room to spare. Alec didn’t have that over-bulked look that some shifters got. He was a solid guy but kind of lean too. Mark shivered just thinking about how fast he’d moved and how strong he must be to hold back a newly bonded shifter in full protection mode. Yes, he’d had help, but still….

  “What the fuck are you thinking about?”

  Mark glanced down to see Will glaring at him, nose wrinkled. “What?”

  “Some serious shit is happening in our pack. How can you be thinking about sex?”

  “I wasn’t!” Mark’s protests fell on deaf ears, and Will just tapped the side of his nose.

  “Liar. Like I can’t tell after all these years. Subtle it might be, but I can still smell it.”

  Mark shrugged. “You should also know I can’t help what thoughts pop into my head.”

  Will studied him closely. “We weren’t exactly talking about a topic that warranted it. Unless….” His eyes lit up with realisation. “Ahh, I get it.”

  “What? There is nothing to get.”

  Pointing his finger in Mark’s face, Will’s smile widened. “You might not be able to tell me what happened this morning, but I can hazard a guess as to who was there.” Mark kept his expression neutral. “So, I’m thinking Harley had all four of his betas there. Probably Seb, as he’s the one who’s been in the middle of it all, and where there’s Seb, there’ll be the sexy pack doctor. And maybe Nathan Kohl, since everything’s about him these days where Newell’s concerned. And that would mean Jared too.”

  Mark narrowed his eyes. “Even if you’re right, what point are you trying to make?”

  “Someone piqued your interest this morning, enough to give you that sappy expression—”

  “It wasn’t sappy—”

  “—and make you smell like you want to bang someone.” Will waited for him to offer an objection, laughing when Mark kept quiet. It wasn’t as though he could deny that part. “Since I know no one over here floats your boat, and four of those aforementioned shifters are all happily bonded, that leaves Harley’s betas.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Daryl. Hot, but scary as fuck, and I don’t think he’s your type.” True on all counts. “Mike. Wasn’t he dating that red-head? The one from the R-pack delivery warehouse.”

  Mark’s eyebrows rose in disbelief. “How the fuck do you know these things?”

  “I helped out there when we were doing our ‘joint thing’ during all that rogue pack crap. I’m observant and I listen. Anyway, where were we?”

  “Yes, please get to the point already.” Mark knew very well where Will was going with this.

  “Gareth. Also not your type, and I think he’s got a secret thing for Harley.”

  “His own alpha?”

  “Yep.” At Mark’s eye roll, Will said, “It’s not exactly unheard of, and Cam Harley is hot. Don’t tell me you’ve not noticed. I call bollocks.”

  Mark shrugged. “I guess, but still. It’s his alpha.”

  “Whatever.” He grinned, and Mark barely suppressed a groan at the gleam in his eye. “That just leaves Alec Knight—big, strong, brave, and fiercely loyal. Also scary as fuck, but exactly your type. With his deep brown eyes, his dark, silver-flecked hair, and that jawline.” He pretended to fan himself and swoon.

  Accepting defeat, Mark grinned back at him. “And stubble. Don’t forget that.”

  Laughing, Will punched him in the arm, making Mark collapse back on the bed beside him. “I fucking knew it. The shit is probably about to hit the fan, and there’s you fantasising over an enemy pack member. How very Romeo and Juliet.”

  “They’re not an enemy pack.”

  But they’re about to become one.

  “Oh, come on. Everyone knows Newell never forgave Harley for giving him less territory when the packs split. And that business with Kohl and the rogue pack made it ten times worse. They might not want to take it as far as a pack war, but there’s certainly no love lost between those two.”

  Mark thought about the alpha council and couldn’t help but add. “And things are pro
bably going to get a whole lot worse.”

  “Fuck, really?”

  “Yep.”

  Will sighed, and the pair of them lay staring up at the ceiling. “That settles it.”

  “What?”

  “You’re coming to the club tonight.”

  “I really don’t feel up to—”

  Rolling onto his side, Will clapped a hand over Mark’s mouth. “Don’t want to hear it. If it’s all about to go tits up, we should make the most of things while we can. I’m tending bar, so you can just sit and chat to me while I serve the masses. If nothing else, it’ll get you out of here and stop you dwelling on whatever it is you can’t tell me.”

  Mark considered it, but…. “I’m not supposed to leave my flat.”

  “Says who?”

  “Newell told Jason to see me back to my flat, as he was sure I needed a rest.”

  Will’s smile turned sly. “And you’ve had a rest. Did either of them specifically tell you to stay inside your flat all night?”

  “Well, no, but I got that impression.”

  “But that’s not the same thing as an order. Come on, Mark, live a little.” He sat up and pulled Mark with him. “Who knows, this time tomorrow we could be involved in another pack war, then you’d regret not going out while you could.” Will laughed, but Mark couldn’t help but think that was closer to the truth than he wanted to admit. He probably shouldn’t, but, “Which club?”

  “Lycanis.”

  The name always amused him. Nothing subtle about shifters. As the name suggested, Lycanis was a shifter-only club, and as a result, tended to be full of mated pairs or those looking to bond. Many shifters stuck to the mixed clubs, wanting to avoid the chance of an accidental bond since it was more likely to happen with another shifter than a human partner. Mark’s chances of picking up in there would be severely limited, but then again, he wasn’t really in the mood anyway. But the idea of getting out and forgetting his worries for a bit? That did sound appealing.

  Against his better judgement, and hoping Jason wouldn’t be pissed off at him, Mark nodded. “Okay, I’ll come.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Alec stood with his hands braced on the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Had it really been ten years? Time hadn’t changed him much on the outside—forty years of age wasn’t considered old by shifter standards—but inside he was nothing like the young man who’d gone out that night with his new unit, full of excitement and bravado at finally being allowed to join the fight.

  How fucking naive he’d been.

  Closing his eyes, he let his head drop down and breathed. The guilt and the pain resurfaced every year, like a morbid anniversary tormenting him with memories he tried so hard to forget. The date itself was still a few days away; he didn’t normally get like this until he woke up having dreamt about it the night before. It had happened every year since the war ended, Alec had accepted it as part of his life. Welcomed it, even. It was no more than he deserved, after all.

  Something had triggered it early this year, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

  Fuck.

  What he needed was a distraction, a way to get his mind focused on the present. Cam would need all his betas at their best in the next few weeks, and Alec refused to let anyone down.

  Not again.

  Alcohol and sex were his go-to fix for times like this. Not necessarily in that order.

  Getting trashed was out of the question, but he could down enough shots to take the edge off for an hour or so. It’d be enough to clear his head.

  Sex would help with the tension.

  Considering how tightly wound he felt tonight, it needed to be with another shifter. He had no plans to be gentle.

  With one last look in the mirror, Alec flicked off the light and walked through his flat, picking up his wallet, phone, and keys on the way. An unread text blinked up at him.

  Beta mtg tomorrow, 9am. Mtg room

  He didn’t bother replying and Cam wouldn’t expect one. It wasn’t a request. The read receipt would be answer enough.

  Alec parked his car at the back of the warehouse, noting the other vehicles utilising the pack parking spaces. All three of them belonged to Regent’s Pack members, which was a relief. He was in no mood to deal with illegal parking.

  The shifter-only bars and clubs didn’t number all that many and, as a result, were conveniently located on the same stretch of road. Alec paused at the top of the street, letting the myriad of scents wash over him. The centre of London was neutral territory, used by all packs and owned by none.

  So many pack scents in one area was a shock to the system at first. Alec leaned against the corner of the building to his left and took a moment to acclimatise himself. A few shifters wandered past him but paid no attention to the way he flexed his hands and worked his jaw. After a few seconds, the urge to shift passed, like he knew it would, and Alec walked down the street, gaze flitting from one place to the next as he decided where to go.

  A pub halfway down caught his eye, newly opened by the looks of things, and Alec headed towards it. As he glanced right, then left before crossing the road, a scent caught his attention. He stopped, narrowly avoiding being run over by a white van going far too fast. Alec growled under his breath. Wanker.

  The scent had vanished, only to materialise again when he reached the opposite pavement. Alec closed his eyes for a second. He never forgot a shifter’s scent, and this was one he’d definitely encountered before.

  Meeting.

  P-pack.

  Mark Appleton.

  Alec made it his business to know the names of everyone entering a meeting with his alpha. Security was his unit’s main focus, after all. The information wasn’t hard to come by; their two packs were supposedly allies. Or they had been.

  The scent stirred memories of the morning. He’d saved Mark’s life to protect Tim, but the young P-pack shifter seemed unaware of everything Newell had done. It had to have come as a shock to learn your alpha had such little regard for your life. Alec wondered how Newell had explained himself.

  He started to walk in the opposite direction but stopped after a few steps. Mark’s scent lingered, the spicy edge to it teasing his senses and sparking his interest. He should leave well enough alone. Avoiding anyone from P-pack was probably best for now, but his wolf had also taken an interest and Alec was in the mood to indulge his wild side. A little look couldn’t hurt.

  He followed the scent, curious to know where Mark had ended up among the array of bars and pubs. Unsurprisingly, it led to the front of Lycanis, a P-pack owned club. Didn’t he see enough of them on a daily basis? Not that the club would be full of only P-pack members, but it would be staffed with them.

  Before Alec realised, he’d followed the scent inside and found himself handing over a tenner to get in. The shifters on the door gave him a wary look, as well they might. No doubt his reputation preceded him. He recognised one and nodded in acknowledgement as he walked past.

  Lycanis wasn’t a club Alec frequented regularly, but he was familiar with it.

  The five bars were spaced over two floors: three downstairs and two up. Alec preferred to look down on the dance floor, he found it easier to pick out a potential fuck that way. Using his sense of smell was almost impossible with scents bombarding him from every angle. Mark’s had gotten buried under hundreds of others once inside, and Alec idly wondered where he was before climbing the stairs and putting him out of his mind. Mark might have led him here, but there were plenty of other things to grab his attention.

  Dressed in tight black jeans, a dark-purple shirt, and boots, he blended in with everyone else. Even his size didn’t make him stand out. In a club filled with nothing but shifters, a six-foot-four guy with broad shoulders wasn’t all that unusual. Alec glanced around as he neared the second floor. From his vantage point alone, he spotted at least twenty guys as tall as him, as well as a handful of women.

  The anonymity afforded by a shifter club
made a welcome change when scents ruled your life. Outside in the fresh air, he’d be able to pick out the individual packs people belonged to. But not in here. Of course, the main drawback was most shifters in there were already bonded or dating. Shifters looking to maintain their single status would generally prefer a mixed club.

  Alec didn’t worry about that. He knew how to avoid an unwanted bond.

  Deciding to get a drink before looking around for a potential hook-up, Alec made his way over to the small bar in the corner—far quieter than the one overlooking the dance floor. The blond bartender did a double take when he looked up, then smirked and leaned down to whisper something to the guy sat on the stool in front of him.

  Alec had no chance of hearing it over the thumping bass of the club, but he got the gist of it as the guy on the stool glanced back over his shoulder.

  Mark.

  The bartender whispered something else, and Alec wondered if that was the reason Mark came to this club. He hadn’t heard about a significant other when he’d asked around about him, but that could easily have changed. Alec walked up to the bar and positioned himself next to Mark’s stool.

  Since they’d already recognised him, Alec saw no problem in addressing them. “Mark.”

  “Alec.”

  The bartender cleared his throat and Mark rolled his eyes, then gestured to him. “Alec Knight, meet my best mate and unit member Will Farley.”

  Not together then.

  Will smiled and held out his hand. Alec dutifully shook it. “What can I get you?”

  Alec glanced behind the bar at the fridge full of bottled beer, then up at the array of optics. His plan was to take the edge off, after all. A few shots of tequila should do the trick. He ordered five shots and a beer chaser, and Will took his money without batting an eye. Only then did Alec notice the collection of empty shot glasses in front of Mark. He glanced up to see Mark watching him, bottle of beer resting against his lips. Alec offered a wry smile. “I guess it’s been that kind of a day.”

  “I guess it has.” Mark lifted his beer in a silent cheers and took a long, slow pull. He swallowed, drawing Alec’s attention to his throat.