To Hate A Wolf Lord ( Book One of Wolf Lord Saga #1)

(Three years later)

The children's smiles widened as I read the last chapter of the children's book. I took a deep breath, finishing off with a smile as I closed the book.

“And that would be all children,” I said, watching as their faces filled with disappointment as if I had taken their last candy from them.

“ Teacher Ava, can you read us one last book?” Andrew, one of the children in my class asked, his eyes cute as if he was trying hard to persuade me.

My eyes darted to the clock on the wall and I chuckled.

“ I can't, Andrew.” I said shuffling his dark brown hair. “Maybe tomorrow. Teacher Ava has to go somewhere important.”

The classroom filled up with a chorus of tiny groans and pouts. Their tiny hands clutched the edges of their desks while their eyes stare at me sulkingly as if their little rebellion could keep me there forever. I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“Go on now,” I said, ushering them toward the door. “Your parents are waiting.”

One by one, they grabbed their bags and ran out, their laughter echoing down the hall. After the last child waved goodbye, I gathered the storybooks and placed them neatly on the shelf. My smile faded as silence settled in.

This was the only place where I wasn't spat on. Where my parents' brand as traitors didn't haunt me.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the table.

Gideon

My stomach tightened.

The name alone was enough to send a chill through me. I didn’t want to answer but the sharp sting in my wrist made the choice for me. The pain shot up my arm, searing hot. I glanced down. The metal bracelet around my wrist glowed faintly, its edges biting into my skin.

A gift from the club, they had said.

A symbol of belonging for all the new girls.

But I knew better. It was a leash.

I pressed my trembling fingers against the band, trying to ease the burn, but it only grew worse the longer I hesitated. Gritting my teeth, I answered the call.

“Avaline,” Gideon’s deep voice drawled, smooth but cold. “You’re late.”

“I—class just ended,” I said quickly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“You’d better be,” he replied, and the line went dead.

The bracelet’s heat eased but the ache still lingered.

I grabbed my coat and hurried out, the hot sun hitting me as I rushed through the city. By the time I reached the club, it was already night. Neon lights bounced off the dance floor, the music echoing loudly.

Gideon stood at the entrance, his arms folded, a cigarette between his lips. The smoke curled lazily around him as his gaze locked on me.

“About time,” he said, flicking the ash aside. “You’ve got a private request tonight.”

My throat tightened. “From who?”

A slow, knowing smirk curved his mouth. “You’ll see soon enough.”

My heart sank. I already had a bad feeling about it.

“ Come on,” Gideon pushed me in. “Don't waste time and do your makeup. This client is very special.”

The word special made my stomach churn. Was their any powerful client that wasn't special?

I grabbed my dress from the locker and changed. Standing in front of the mirror, I started doing my makeup when Reina walked in. Her sexy outfit reflected in the mirror, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“ Look who is here,” she sneered as she walked up to me. “Teacher Ava who thinks she can pay her way out of the club by reading books rather than doing her job.”

The other girls joined in laughing.

My hand clenched around my brush as I watched her mock me. However, I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't show my wolf out neither could I let anyone see my tattoo. I'd been hiding my wolf and my past for years. Everyone believed I was weak. A new moon Omega with no backbone.

“ What are you looking at?” Reina asked, her crescent moon tattoo glimmering on her arm. “Better watch your back, Avaline. One of these days, I'm going to beat you up.” she said pushing my head to the side before she worked away.

My wolf growled low, within me. Threatening to force her way out. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my cool.

Not now.

My hand rubbed over my arm where my tattoo was. I had done a good job of putting a fake tattoo to cover my real one.

“Avaline!” Gideon yelled from outside the dressing room making me jerk.

I grabbed my bag and put all my things inside before slidding it into the locker. Reina, the club's former princess barely left any space for me. It was useless to complain. Gideon never shouted or punished Reina.

“ Already done!” I yelled.

I walked out of the dressing room, my hands sweaty as I stood before Gideon. His eyes lingered on me hungrily as he took in my outfit. He had wanted me for years. However thanks to my quick wit, I managed to avoid him long enough to almost finish paying my debt.

“Ravaging as always,” he said breathless. “Too bad a high paying client wants you. Tonight, you can't escape even if you wanted to.”

My jaw clenched.

He grinned, stepping closer, his breath reeking of smoke and whiskey. “Room thirteen. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Room thirteen. The number alone made my pulse quicken. That room was only reserved by powerful people.

I forced a nod and turned away heading up the stairs. I was prepared. The injection I had hidden earlier was still on me. I had used it to make many of my clients sleep in the past, I could do it again.

My heels clicked softly against the marble, each sound too loud in the silence that followed. As I neared the door marked 13, a strange shiver ran down my spine. My wolf stirred uneasily inside me, pressing against the walls I’d built to keep her hidden.

Something was wrong.

I reached for the door handle and pushed it open.

The scent hit me hard as I entered. It was him.

Wolf Lord Orion Draemount.

“Close the door,” his command echoed making me swallow.

I obeyed.

“Come in,” his voice echoed roughly in the room.

I walked in, the soft sound of my footsteps echoing as I pushed past the curtain. The moment I saw him, I froze. Something about his presence made me feel exposed.

He was older, maybe ten years older, but it didn't show at all with the way he carried himself. His shirt clung to his chest, muscles shifting beneath the fabric as he leaned back on the couch, his arms stretched casually along the top. His dark hair was slicked back, his eyes calm but sharp, as if nothing in the world could unsettle him.

Then the past rushed in. The screams, the blood, the night my parents were killed. My breath caught. Was he the one who paid for me? The thought made my stomach twist.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t stay here.

“What would you like for me to do, sir? Pole dance or lap dance?” I asked, keeping my voice natural as I clenched the syringe

“Master,” he corrected.

“What?”

“Master. Gideon just sold you to me.” he said my breath hitch.

This couldn't be.