Chapter 27 Beastly Slaves
NIKOLAI'S POV
The concert was over, though "over" felt like the wrong word, since my veins were still buzzing, my throat still raw, and my mind was still replaying Shelby's kiss on a savage loop. I let her return to her section because the security team practically dragged her away, and I needed a moment to cool down before I did something reckless like jump into the crowd and fuck her in front of two hundred thousand mortals.
I made it backstage, and for half a second, I thought I had room to breathe.
I was wrong.
Ripley slammed both hands onto my shoulders so hard my spine protested.
"What the fuck was that out there?" she snapped, shaking me once for emphasis. "That wasn't part of the performance!"
"So I improvised, so what?" I shrugged, though my wolf snarled at her grip. "And get your fucking paw off me before I chew it off."
Ripley's brows shot up, but she released me anyway, cursing under her breath.
Lorenzo stepped forward with his annoyingly calm, choir-boy energy. "It's true, Ripley. He's been acting strange since he met this girl. Although I have to admit... strange or not, it felt familiar."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean?"
"For one," he said, holding up a finger, "you were smiling. And for two, you seemed genuinely happy. Almost like a person with a soul."
Ripley froze.
I froze.
Even the fucking air froze.
I hadn't really thought about it, but the warmth still lingered in my chest like a wildfire refusing to die down. The moment Shelby touched my hand, something inside me shifted and I felt alive.
Ripley's expression softened, her shoulders dropping. "Enzo's right. Maybe I overreacted. If this girl can have you acting like the real Niko, the one you used to be before you became a raging soulless asshole, then I ought to give her a chance."
"Thank you, Rip," I said automatically.
She gasped dramatically and clutched her chest. "Fuck! He even remembered how to say thank you!"
Enzo chuckled lightly. "Miracles do happen."
But something felt... off.
Ryder, usually the loudest voice in the room and the most feral creature alive, was sitting on the couch completely silent. His thumbs were flying over his phone screen while he grinned like a maniac who had just been handed a bag of illegal fireworks and told to go nuts.
"Now this is strange," I let out, pointing at him.
Ripley leaned forward, squinting. "You're right. This is the longest my brother has gone without talking or uttering fuckery." She marched toward him. "Ry—what gives?"
He finally lifted his head, eyes dreamy and unfocused. "Nothing. I'm just texting the girl I met online. I told her I'm backstage, and she said she's coming to the meet and greet so we can do the business transaction."
I stared at him. "Are you really buying some girl's pube hair, man? Because that is nasty."
He shrugged. "I don't think it is."
Enzo sighed with saintly patience. "There's no use arguing with this one. Once his stupid mind is made up, there's no changing it."
Ripley folded her arms. "So... I guess this girl doesn't know you're a rock star either?"
"Nope," Ryder said proudly. "I told her I clean the shithouse for the band. She said she respects hard workers."
Enzo threw his hands up. "Well, I guess you two really are a match made in heaven."
"I know, right?" Ryder beamed and went right back to typing.
I wanted to laugh, but my chest was still hot with the ghost of Shelby's kiss, and my mind kept wandering to her little stunned expression when I pulled away. I wanted to see her again so badly my hands twitched.
We cleaned ourselves up as best we could, though Ripley cursed loudly because her eyeliner had smudged and Ryder kept trying to steal her hairbrush for no reason other than chaos. Lorenzo hummed softly in the corner, as if preparing for a church choir instead of a meet and greet full of rabid humans.
Everything felt normal for exactly two minutes.
Then the door burst open so hard it slammed against the wall.
Hermes, the greediest bastard the gods ever cursed with lungs stormed inside, his eyes wild with dollar signs.
"BRILLIANT!" he roared. "ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!"
Ripley groaned. Ryder flinched. Enzo stared at him like he was a glitch in the matrix.
Hermes barreled toward me, hands waving dramatically. "That stunt you pulled with that ginger, that kiss, that breathtakingly scandalous performance? MAGNIFICENT! MARVELOUS! UNHINGED! The fans are losing their collective human minds!"
I raised a brow. "And?"
"And," he said, wheezing dramatically, "our website has been flooded with requests for VVIP tickets. We sold twenty originally. Now we have sold—brace yourselves—a thousand."
"A thousand?" Ripley repeated, eyes wide.
"Yes! And that," he said, pointing proudly to his own chest, "is what I came here to discuss. After you left the stage, I went back out and made an announcement."
I groaned. "Oh, fuck."
"We are doing two more shows in New York," Hermes declared triumphantly, "in the next few weeks. Meaning, you are all staying here with me much longer."
My wolf let out a low, pleased rumble.
'I guess we don't have to ask him to stay then,' Wilder stated.
Hermes clasped his hands together like an overexcited rodent. "Now, my beastly slaves, the fans will be here any minute. So smile, look dangerous, and remember, merch sells better when you look like you want to murder someone."
And with that, he vanished as fast as he came.
Ripley sighed. "I fucking hate that man."
I grunted. “Me too.”