His Ghost

The Fallout 7

Dear Carter,

I'm sorry to say that your recent actions have damaged the reputation of our family name.

Reports you are turning this into an Enforcer Estate are gaining momentum. I assured everyone that this is not and will never be an Enforcer Estate. Our pack has three members, and we are aligned with the council.

As well as 'rumoured' Lycan females on our grounds. They are savage and unpredictable, and our committee and elders do not tolerate them. I look forward to seeing you at the full moon celebrations tonight to discuss when they will be removed.

Sincerely, Lucia Benson.

I finished reading last night's email from my grandmother, probably with a glass of red wine in her hand. My grandfather had long retired from pack politics. Yet, she couldn't give it up. She constantly meddled and manipulated. She had half the pack hierarchy wrapped around her finger.

The Shifter Council did not like Enforcer Estates; it was a current sore point among the old dogs. The council was obsessed with control. It had enforcers who acted under council instruction. Packs could hire or request assistance. Stories of corruption against smaller, less influential packs were widespread. Movement in the doorway caught my attention.

Clara was standing there. I couldn't catch a break. She walked into my office without an invitation. Sitting across from me and fidgeting in her tight pencil skirt. Of course, she was wearing her signature red bottom heels and a revealing silk blouse.

"What do you want, Clara?" I asked. She got straight to the point.

"The selection process with the warriors. I want to be a part of it."

"No. You knew all this; we discussed it already." I said.

She paused, dropping her aggressive stance. "It's not right, Carter; I know this pack better than anyone; they are neither from here nor full members. Aiden and Sam don't understand the history of our families and who's who."

"Precisely why I chose them. No one can claim favouritism. My team has authority over everyone on this estate; They follow my orders. And I don't need to worry about petty bullshit politics. This is a closed topic." I remained calm; losing my cool wouldn't help the situation.

"I hoped we could talk about Aiden's approach without you making this about you and your precious team?" Her tone changed from accusing to questioning.

"Carter, I used to be in that enforcer group. Please let me know why you're shutting me out?"

I ignored her; this banter could go on for days. She loved to bait me. Telling her to leave was an invitation. I could see she wanted to fight or fuck. In her eyes, they were the same. I turned back to the mess on my desk.

Clara stands up and walks around my desk with a familiar sway in her hips. I knew that walk well, and why she chose to wear that outfit—memories of our downtime between contracts. We would spend our time here with her bent over my desk.

She smirked as she perched on the edge of my desk. A black lace underwear peeks out from below the super high split of an unzipped skirt.

She leans towards me with one hand resting on the desk and the other playing with the buttons on her silk blouse.

"I can tell things haven't been going well between you and Lucy. You're tense, baby. I know how you get when you're not...satisfied."

Clara unbuttoned her shirt with a sly grin and a flick of her tongue across her lips, then let it fall to the desk. She's wearing a tiny strapless bra that barely seems worth wearing.