by Ava Williams
She paused before crossing one leg over the other. “I’m sure I could do that.” A devilish spark shone in her eye for a second. “And I assume I’d be working with . . .?” She trailed off, but her point was obvious.
He locked eyes on her. You’ll be working independently, and I will not get to know you, because that would be a terrible thing for the pack. “You would be working directly for me.”
Dammit.
Still, even though what he wanted slipped out over what he intended to say, it felt right.
Her grin widened, and Titus’s urges made an unwelcome and decidedly unfortunate return. He wanted to bend her over the desk and sample that tight body again, and they both knew it. They both knew what this was about. Nobody would be shocked and amazed to learn that this job was not necessary and the only reason he’d invited her back was to be around her. The relics had sat untouched for years and years and years. They could continue doing that just fine.
And she knew. When he locked eyes with her, he realized that she knew what was going on. Her hands, which had been resting at her sides, moved to her thighs, thumbs gently rubbing the fabric of her pants over the curvy, rounded flesh. Her pupils dilated slightly, and he knew she was thinking about the same thing. Even trying hard to keep it professional, he felt his emotions surge.
Where to go from next? They weren’t in a relationship. Just a one-night stand and a strong desire for a second.
He stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you where you’ll be working.”
Titus strode past her, acutely aware of her eyes on him and the magnetic pull between them as he made his way to his office door. With the knob halfway turned, he froze, and turned back toward Molly.
He couldn’t ignore his body’s demands—not when Molly obviously wanted the same thing. He slipped an arm around her waist to pull her close, fitting their bodies together. It felt as natural as breathing. She looked up and met his eyes as her hands came up to grab the collar of his shirt and yank him down to meet his lips with hers.
For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them, lips and hands and warm bodies pressed closely together. He didn’t understand the forces that pulled them together and didn’t care. He lost himself in the sensation, pushing her against the wall and kissing along the arch of her throat as she moaned softly.
Their hands and lips continued their frantic explorations. Clothes fell away and he feasted on her body with his hands, lips, teeth, and tongue like he wanted to do on their first night together. Later, as he held her in his arms and marveled at the raw emotions she inspired in him, he knew one thing for sure: Molly Jefferson was his future.
And that thrilled him.
8
The next few weeks were the most romantic and passionate of Molly’s life.
She barely knew Titus, but she could barely keep her hands off him. Normally, it would freak her out—enough that she’d want to bail, but something kept her coming back for more, day after day. The first few days were the hardest, where it seemed like all she could think about was being with him physically, but after a week or so, the raw lust guiding her choices cooled slightly, and her emotions started to make more sense.
As the overwhelming sexual chemistry ebbed into something more manageable, their undefined relationship found another vein to explore: an emotional connection. Even though it was painfully obvious that they shared a potent sexual connection unlike anything either of them had ever felt, it wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship—and they both knew it.
Neither one of them ever talked about how strange it was, but with time, they started getting to know each other better. The pack boasted an impressive array of ancient artifacts, and unlike the museum’s collection, the pack’s artifacts were actually fun to study. No more bowls and half-broken daggers. There were crowns, suits of armor, weapons from extinct civilizations, and more. Each day, she woke with a renewed sense of excitement for what the day might hold.
Of course, a huge part of it was time with Titus and exploring these new and confusing feelings, but the work inspired her as well.
She asked for some time off from the museum, and spent most of her days at the pack compound, working there instead. When she was at the museum, she was constantly checking the clock until quitting time each day.
She felt happier, lighter on her feet, and more fulfilled. Even Carl didn’t get under her skin.
What she had with Titus was unique, unlike any of her previous relationships. And as the first heated rush of sexual chemistry cooled, she learned more about the man—his sense of humor, the way he smiled when she entered the room, the way his brows furrowed when work stressed him out. Their connection was more than just sexual, and the more she learned about him, the more she liked him.
Titus worked a great deal, but whenever he had a few minutes to spare, he visited her in the huge hall where the collection was stored. It was nice to see him and spend the time with him, but a part of her wondered why it seemed like he was determined to keep things so . . . secret. She valued privacy, but the way he kept things under wraps felt a little—well, tawdry sometimes. Like she was a mistress, hidden away from the pack.
She never mentioned it.
But except for the fears that she didn’t want to put voice to, things were great with Titus. He didn’t open up easily, but as the days ticked by, she learned more and more about who Titus Carston really was.
He was not who she was expecting.
On the outside, he was a huge, dominating man with an alpha personality that did whatever he wanted. He radiated confidence and raw sexuality, but under the surface, she realized that he was a lot more than that. There was a heart under there. A good heart, and he only let a few people see it. And the pieces that he showed her were beautiful. She only saw small glimpses of it, and before she could get a good look, it was gone. But there was no doubt in her mind: He actually had a good heart despite all the hard-nosed business he did.
It was little things that she’d catch him doing that showed it even when it was hard to see. Small things, of course, but they added up with time. A thoughtful gesture, or a sensitive smile before it was all serious again. Little things.
What started as a physical connection steadily blossomed into a very real affection. Not overnight, but after a while, she felt happy and at peace around him. Her life was better for having him in it.
Titus was the best part of every day.
And unfortunately, sometimes he was the worst part as well.
He had a good heart, but he kept it locked away. The man refused to show any emotion, and any time she probed for cracks in his armor, he shut down. His face would ice over and his demeanor would cool, and she knew that she was pushing too hard.
For her, vulnerability and connection came naturally. She was built for it, and he . . . well, he was not.
She danced around the subject a few times, but every time, he closed up tight, like he was afraid of forming deep connections. Anytime they started getting close, he suddenly had other things to do. Or his tone would abruptly change and he only wanted to talk about her progress on the artifacts.
One evening, she’d been working all day on the hall of artifacts when Titus paid her a visit. She’d made a breakthrough in one of the statues, and she was eager to tell him all day. Just like she expected, he was enthusiastic and supportive of her work, and listened intently as she spoke.
And then, she said something wrong.
“I’m so happy you’re in my life, Titus.”
That was it. That was her crime. The second the words slipped out of her throat, she knew she should have kept her feelings to herself. Sure enough, his eyes glazed over and he curtly replied that he was happy she was there, and that the pack needed the artifacts done.
What was he so damn afraid of?
What could possibly scare a billionaire shifter with the world in his hand?
No matter how much she tried to get him to open up, he was a brick wall. At first, it
was easy enough to tell herself that it was just a phase, and that sooner or later, things would change. They could build trust and move forward, she told herself. But it never moved forward. Hot sex, good conversation, and then she went home. Alone.
What was Titus scared of?
And one night, he was drunk enough to tell her.
It was a sleepy Saturday night, and he invited her back to his place for a drink. It felt like progress, and Molly was thrilled. Titus was a stickler about the appearance of professionalism, and the strain of hiding their relationship. Something about the pack and protecting her from people. She didn’t know.
They had a lovely dinner together, and as the moon rose up into the sky, they opened a bottle of wine and he indulged in a couple of glasses, with scotch following. Maybe the drinks helped him loosen up, but as they lay in his bed and watched the quiet forest through the huge windows, he took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
“Molly,” he said. “I owe you an apology.”
Right away, she knew something was off. Titus never apologized. She was curled up in his arms, snuggled against his chest, and pounced on it right away.
“What for?” she said cautiously.
“About—” He paused, and Molly took a deep breath, smelling the peaty, campfire fragrance on his breath. He rarely drank. He didn’t like anything that loosened his control—over his body, his emotions, his willpower, anything. “About being so difficult. I’m not an easy person to get to know. I know that.”
She glanced up at him. No shit, she wanted to say, but kept it to herself. Titus was finally coming out and explaining his emotions to her, and that was something she needed to encourage. As tempting as it was to let her frustration spill out, she poked more, hoping that he would continue if she seemed receptive. “Everyone is in their own way, though, right?”
He thoughtfully gazed out at the moon with a faraway look in his eyes. “I’m not used to having someone.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Being raised as the future alpha meant that I wasn’t allowed to have close connections. They took me from my mother and my dad raised me to be hard and emotionless, like an alpha needed to be. I don’t . . . I don’t know how to give or show real affection.” He laughed, but it was hollow and humorless. “I guess he’d be proud of me now.”
Titus had gone at least a month without opening up at all, and with basically zero warning, dumped a gigantic bit of highly personal information at her feet. She felt a sting of annoyance. After all this? After all this time, he was just going to say that and be done? She wasn’t a lap dog, and it sure as shit bothered her. She swallowed the frustration in her voice and came at it differently.
“Well . . . thank you for telling me. That’s got to be hard.”
She tried to come up with a good way to say Your flaw is seriously bothering me and it’s something we need to talk about. She grew up with sisters in a big family, and there were people everywhere all the time. They might have been poor, but they were always rich in family and friends. It was a fundamental part of her life. More than that—it was who she was.
She couldn’t imagine having no one except a cold and manipulative father. Suddenly, Titus made a lot more sense. He was emotionally barren for a reason after all. It didn’t make it less aggravating, and he needed to grow, but at least now she understood.
As she opened her mouth, she paused. Hell, Titus was probably opening up to someone for the first time in his life. But at the same time, her feelings mattered. They were equals, and Titus wouldn’t want her to swallow something that was bothering her anyway.
“Are you working on it?”
He bobbed his head once with that same, distant look in his eyes before he turned his attention to her and smiled. “I give you my word that I’ll open up more. Just give me a little time. This is all very new to me.”
She smiled at him. Well, it wasn’t perfect. But Titus’s word meant everything to him. Maybe he was going to counseling. Maybe he was working through it some other way. But she didn’t care to know the details: if he gave her his word, he was doing it. Period. Come hell or high water.
She craned her neck and planted a gentle kiss on his chest. “Let me know how I can help.”
He looked down and dropped a kiss on her forehead as she nestled into his side again. “It’s not okay, and it’s not fair to you. I’m working through it. I just wanted you to know that.”
She pressed her head against his bare chest and heard the soft sound of his heart beating slowly and methodically. He wound one strong arm around her, pulling her even closer.
Titus would get better at opening up. Even the fact that he told her proved that he was growing. Time would tell, but for now, she felt relieved that they had finally talked about it. It wasn’t an overnight thing by any means, but he asked her for some time. If he changed, great. If not… well, time would tell. But he was worth that chance.
“I’m really glad you told me,” she said softly.
A second paused, and then his arm squeezed her tight for a few seconds. He didn’t say a word.
They never talked about it again. As more weeks ticked by and he continued to make slow progress, not once did she ever bring it up. It remained a locked door that he opened one night and shut before too much could get out—and that was okay.
Things took a positive turn in their relationship as he started making huge strides in opening up. Whatever he was doing, however he was working through it, it was working. She felt calmer and more grounded with the knowledge that he did care about her, even if he was shit at expressing it. And that was worth its weight in gold. The sex was great, but that wasn’t everything. She wanted someone to grow old with, and she wanted to see if Titus was the right person.
And was she happy that she did.
Her life wasn’t quite a fairytale, but it was close.
And then it happened.
Someone came back into her life that she never wanted to see again. A monster hidden in plain sight, who walked back into her life to fuck everything up.
Eli.
9
Molly’s day started like any other.
She went through the hall of artifacts and picked the next one in line: a metal mask with beautiful, intricate runes spiderwebbed across its marred surface. She had been making good progress, but despite that, she was still barely quarter of the way through the hall. Just when it seemed like she was making tons of discoveries, she realized that she had really just barely scratched the surface.
The hall was a vast room with a high, arched ceiling, filled to bursting with items in glass cases, on shelves and on pedestals.
The whole hall smelled like a museum, warm, with carefully controlled humidity. It had the lofted ceilings and the feeling of smallness and majesty combined. Large windows let in golden rays of light that made the whole place feel airy and comfortable, freeing even. It was quiet most days, and this day was no different. It was just Molly, wandering around in the big space. Every step of her feet seemed to echo loudly through the large hall, which irritated her at first, but it soon became something she enjoyed to listen to. It felt like a place of learning, and automatically, she felt at home.
She was partway through the hall after starting on the end and working in. She began with the most recent artifacts and decided to slowly work towards the progressively more ancient ones. It was fun work. Rewarding, in a strange way. Most people would get bored working all day by themselves, but to Molly, she was never alone. Not really, not when she had all the stories of the artifacts to keep her company.
Sometimes, it was just a basic rune that revealed the purpose. Other times, it had a story behind it that had been captured in the magic, and like a scientist studying a prehistoric creature fossilized in amber, she got to figure out what had happened to its owner.
The mask looked like a promising object. It obviously had a very specific purpose. If she had to guess, it was for some kind of ritual, and based on some of the markings, her money was
on a fertility ritual.
She delicately lifted it off the pedestal where it had been hanging, being careful that her plastic gloves didn’t let it slip out of her hands accidentally. As she touched it, even through the gloves, she felt magic thrum through her body. It was still kicking, after however many years that it had been. She carefully tucked it in closer to her chest, about-faced, and ran directly into Eli.
She lunged back in shock with a gasp, but caught the mask before it fell to the ground. “Jesus!” she exclaimed, her heart pounding like a rabbit’s. “Jesus, you’re quiet.”
She hadn’t seen him up close since the first night where she’d met Titus. She’d spotted him wandering around the compound through the windows of the hall sometimes, but not like this, not up close and personal.
The first time she saw him, he was aggressive and hostile. He almost challenged Titus, and at the time, she’d hoped with all her heart that she would never see him again.
But he was staring directly at her and that they were the only people in the room—obviously, he was there for her.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his cold eyes as his hatred radiated from him. She got the feeling that she was looking at someone who hated her. Not, disliked her, not frustrated with her, but deep, seething rage that gurgled just beneath the surface. Something terrible agitated behind those eyes.
“Molly. Such a pleasure to run into you,” he said. He sounded friendly—too friendly.
He was bigger than she remembered, and suddenly, she realized that she was alone with him—and that felt wrong in every possible way. She stepped back and tightened her grip on the mask. Though she had the utmost respect for all artifacts, if that creepy fuck got any closer to her, she was not above beating a wolf with a fertility mask. “Eli, what a . . . surprise,” she said. She hated to destroy an important relic, but as she felt around the edges of the mask, she realized that it was a handy weapon, and her muscles tightened in anticipation.
