“I apologize for my recent absence, Golden Eyes, but it couldn’t be helped,” he said in his deep,
melodious British voice.
Kevin choked out the words. “Wha-what do you mean?”
The man smiled, a warm, sexy, wanton look. He leaned forward and Kevin caught a whiff of the forest in
his cologne. Kevin’s cock instantly twitched to life in his pants. “Sit down,” he said in a commanding
voice, indicating the chair opposite him, and Kevin immediately obeyed the alpha. A small smirk curled
the man’s soft, sensual lips. “You sought me in the woods this weekend, yes? But I wasn’t there. I wanted
you to know I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I was out of the country on business.”
It took Kevin a moment to digest the words. “You…you could tell I was there?”
“Your scent is prominent in those woods. Yes,” he smiled, “I could tell.”
“Oh.” And then he blurted, “So you weren’t… I mean, I thought maybe I was dreaming, that you weren’t
real.”
The alpha laughed at that. His voice was a low, sensual rumble under the music. “No, Golden Eyes, our
time together was quite real, and I enjoyed every moment of it. I love your smell and taste, young wolf. I
loved being inside you, claiming that lovely virgin ass of yours.”
His words made Kevin blush from head to foot. “I’m not…I mean…” He stared at the tabletop. He didn’t
know how to say it. “That ship sailed a long time ago.”
“You have been with others of your own kind?”
Kevin shook his head. “No.”
“A virgin, like I said.” The alpha narrowed his yellowish eyes. “I like that you don’t smell of pack or
other lovers.” He leaned forward to discreetly snuffle at the side of Kevin’s neck, making him shiver.
“You still smell faintly of me. Good.”
Again, Kevin blushed. “How did you find me? Who are you?”
The alpha’s smile never slipped. He moved his hand to cover Kevin’s. He rubbed his thumb across
Kevin’s palm, his touch sparking like a kiss of electricity across Kevin’s skin. “My name is Roman Le
Feuvre, Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack. As a human, I broker on the London Stock Exchange, but recently I
relocated here to the States along with my pack.”
Someone was calling for him, but Kevin ignored it. “I’m Kevin Sullivan. Wait…you have a pack?”
“Don’t you?”
“Christ, no. I didn’t even know there was anyone else out there like me. I thought I was the only…” He
couldn’t say the word. “The only one of my kind.”
Roman nodded. “You’re an Orphan.” He sniffed again. “How very odd. I would have thought a Pedigree
like yourself would have had many followers by now.”
“Pedigree?”
Roman pursed his soft, full lips. “You don’t know much about yourself, do you, Golden Eyes?”
Kevin didn’t know what to say to that. Allison was bleating for him from the bar as she was quickly
overrun with customers. But Kevin could care less about the bar, Allison, work, or anything else for that
matter. He just wanted to ask the alpha more questions. He wanted to know about the others. But his shift
was far from over.
Roman read him easily. “I can see I’ve got you at a bad time.” His hand moved under the table, gently
squeezing Kevin’s partially erect cock in his trousers so Kevin let out a gentle moan of pleasure. “When
do you get off?”
“Not until two in the morning.” Panic suddenly set in. “Will you wait? You won’t go?”
Roman laughed at his eagerness. “I’ll have my driver pick you up then. Is that acceptable?”
“I can go now.”
“No,” Roman said, his voice deep and commanding. Kevin had a feeling that very few people dared
disobey the man. “Finish your work here. Raise no suspicions. Then you will come to me.” He let
Kevin’s cock go so he could stand up.
“I can’t wait to be with you again,” Kevin told him honestly.
Roman fished the cherry from his Manhattan and lick it with his long, red tongue before sucking it into his
mouth. “My little Orphan, we have all the time in the world to get to know one another.”
***
Chapter Eight
Roman’s driver took him by town car across the city and to a riverside block mansion on West 89th Street.
Kevin wasn’t used to this part of the city. It looked too clean to be New York. The five-story, bow-front
mansion looked like something out of a turn-of-the-century period piece movie.
The drive let him out and he saw Roman waiting for him on the stoop before the huge, gilded, double
doors. He was still dressed in his pinstripe suit, though his hair was loose and flowing in rivers of black
around his intense, hawk-like face. “I’m glad you came,” he said as Kevin reached the top of the stairs.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said honestly.
Roman grinned at his enthusiasm and let him into the foyer with its hardwood floors, wainscoted walls
and crystal chandeliers. Kevin marveled at the luxury. Never in all his days had he expected to ever see
the inside of a palace like this. “This is just one of my holdings,” Roman explained. “I have homes all
over the world.”
Kevin whistled. “You must do pretty well for yourself.”
“I’m over three hundred years old. Experience has turned me into a rather astute businessman, as you can
well imagine—though it has forced me to migrate periodically to keep suspicions down. I alternate forty
or so years between all my holdings, returning to them as my son or grandson, hence the reason the pack
and I have relocated recently to New York City. If I had stayed in London any longer, my human
associates there would have noticed my lack of aging.”
Kevin blinked in disbelief and looked closely at his newfound friend and lover. “You don’t look a day
over thirty. Do you age at all?”
“Werewolves do, but only very slowly, and Pedigrees even slower than that.” Roman looped his arm
familiarly around Kevin’s waist and led him across the receiving hall and past a winding staircase with a
lacy, wrought-iron rail. His hand brushed Kevin’s side and Kevin felt himself relaxing against the old
alpha as they moved down a long hall toward another pair of large, arching doors.
A thought occurred to Kevin. “Isn’t that kind of hard to do, what with the digital age and all?”
“Not if you have the right contacts. Then it’s just a case of crossing the right palms with enough silver.”
Roman stared at him. “How old are you, Golden Eyes?”
“Twenty-eight,” Kevin answered, feeling like a child by Roman’s standards.
“Just a pup. I figured as much.” They passed multiple portraits of other Romans in different period
clothes. The sight of them made Kevin shiver. “At least you won’t have to worry about changing your
identity for a while.”
Kevin’s head spun with the idea that one day he would have to pretend to die, then come back as his own