MAB02

I stared out at the night, the pull of the waxing moon yanking hard. Taking a gulp of my Dalmore 62, the finest single malt whisky ever produced, I raked a hand through my hair. The need to run free was building, growing stronger by the hour. I ached to let the clean, dry desert wind blow everything else away.

Два кольори, мої два кольори,Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба.Два кольори, мої два кольори,Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.

Blame it on the blood moon, an ominous portent to all my wild forbearers, scheduled to rise over Las Vegas’s towering skyline in a matter of days. All my billions couldn’t stop that trickster from wreaking havoc on my kind. Not that I would trade places with any otherworldly creature. Nothing beats being a werewolf. Nothing. Especially being a billionaire werewolf, with more money and possessions than any other wolf—and most humans—on the planet.

I savored the final gulp of the fragrant whisky with its drumroll and smooth finish. It would prove amusing to see what my rivals at the House of Ribelle had planned during the event, necessitating me showing those mongrels their low rank in the pecking order. My wolf bristled at the very idea, prepared to strike.

I dropped my glass onto the proofs of the recent interview I’d done for Business Leader Quarterly. The founding of the Royal Bank of Luceres and the recent expansion of our casino enterprises into several new countries was the stuff of legend and warranted a huge center spread in the magazine. Amusing really, humans being unable to see even that which what was right in front of their noses. My photo stared from the piece, all GQ to the public, but the slick surface hid a beast, one ready to burst forth at a moment’s notice.

And that beast, bored and weary at the sameness of the days, needed a change. Where was the excitement? The new challenge? Having gathered all the riches the world had to offer didn’t fill the deep void of longing, growing stronger by the day, of wanting something more. Only to myself would I admit that my life was lacking, that surrounded by so many, I was lonely.

Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.

Maybe it was time to choose a mate? Even if she wasn’t the famed Forever Mate so valued by the pack, at least I would have company at night. Someone to share my victories with. No. I wanted the real thing. A true mate at my side, anointed as being the chosen one of destiny. I raised my head and closed my eyes, catching a sense of change on the wind. Something was coming…

ay, I sat and contemplated having another strong drink, drumming my fingers on my desktop.

She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and eased the panties down her long tan legs, exposing her complete Brazilian wax job. Then, slipping the lace over her four-inch platform heels, she threw them at Lucius. He caught them and took a deep whiff of their fragrant dampness. “Nice. Now you.” He pointed at the other girl.

I suddenly realized I’d prefer to go for a run than be here. The pent-up lust from the pull of the coming wolf moon made my skin ripple with the urge. If this female was reluctant, then banning her from the premises would suffice. Neither I nor Lucius would force a woman. Why should we, when they all came of their own accord? Not that I wouldn’t mind a good chase for a change—as long as I won. And I always win.

Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.Два кольори, мої два кольори, Оба на полотні, в душі моїй оба. Два кольори, мої два кольори, Червоний – то любов, а чорний – то журба.

“Fine. But be advised, a photo will be taken and shared with the staff,” Lucius said. He was dragging this out and I wanted it over and done with. I tried to catch his eye to let him know.

The female hesitated, biting her bottom lip. I could see through the sham. I had to give it to them—the Ribelle dogs were attracting better-looking spies. Not brighter, perhaps, unless they were looking to be caught? They’d have to be checked over thoroughly before they could leave the premises. I’d leave those honors to my twin.

Lucius glanced my way, lust darkening his complexion. He, perhaps more than I, enjoyed our couplings with willing women in the immediate vicinity of the other. Our more studious younger twin brothers, currently in Rome, enjoyed having the same woman, but I did not imagine that ever being the case for me and Lucius, with me being alpha.

Spy number two shimmied out of her tight minidress, exposing another spectacular set of large breasts and a lac