by Elle Thorne
“So your lion knew. All along that I wasn’t the one for you?”
“All along.”
Alexa breathed a sigh of relief. “At least my tigress wouldn’t be fooled if Leandra did put a spell on me then.”
“She said she wouldn’t.”
“My trust levels are low right now.”
“Understandable.” He nodded. “But still… it’s Leandra.”
“I don’t even know what that should mean anymore. She has allegiances. I thought I had some sort of friendship with her.”
He took a step forward, then looked back at her. “Let’s get going. You don’t need to be missed, and neither of us needs to be found out here. Too many questions would come up.”
“You’re right.” She tried to keep up with his long strides, her second pair of shoes, sneakers tied together by their laces, hanging off her shoulder. She swatted at a mosquito on her arm.
Chapter Nine
The afternoon passed in a flurry. Maylene was curious about Alexa’s whereabouts but thankfully spent no time fixating on her absence. The tour bus returned, but there was no sign of Evie. Someone said that someone said—according to the temporary help—that Evie had returned and locked herself in isolation again.
I’m so over the drama. Alexa shrugged and made her way to her room to get ready for the ball. A short time later one of the temporary help knocked on the door to see if she needed assistance.
Alexa turned her back, all she needed was a hand with the zipper. Moments later she was alone again and working on what she could do with her hair. She’d put half of it up and then let the rest of it drift on her shoulders and pray that the humidity wasn’t her enemy this evening.
A knock on her bedroom door pulled Alexa away from the mirror. She set the makeup brush and loose powder down then opened her door.
Maylene stepped back. “You’re a sight.” She whistled low under her breath. “And spitting image of Ms. Celine. Those eyes, that profile.” Tears welled. “Spitting image. Is that why you chose the dress?”
“The attendant at the dress shop wouldn’t have let me buy another one.”
“Clearly it is perfect for you.”
The ball gown, an exquisite concoction in satin, was cream-colored and judging from what the mirror showed, Alexa knew she looked like she’d been poured into it. She hadn’t wanted to wear strapless, not originally, but the lady at the shop said this dress looked like it had been made for her.
Alexa couldn’t argue that.
She also couldn’t argue that it was very similar to the one that Celine was wearing in the portrait that hung at the top of the stairs. Between her dress and her likeness to Celine, it wasn’t astonishing that Maylene noted the resemblance. What had been surprising was the sign of her tears.
Maylene dabbed at the corner of her eye with the knuckle of her index finger, though no tear had actually been shed yet.
“Callie Rivera had a contraction earlier. No one knew where you were.”
“I need to check on her and see if Doc thinks she needs anything.”
“Where were you? Theo was nowhere to be found either.”
Shit. What could she tell Maylene?
Nothing.
Best defense was an offense, they said. “Well, don’t go starting rumors about me and Theo.”
Maylene shot her a sharp glance.
Guess she doesn’t like my answer.
“Lézare is back.”
Alexa was thankful for the subject change. “It’s about time.” Her brother had almost waited too late. The ball was to start in fifteen minutes.
Maylene tucked back one of Alexa’s wayward curls and went through motions of tugging at the dress, adjusting and tweaking.
“If only I could hold my breath all night,” Alexa grumbled about her curves.
“Hush, Alexandria. You’ve a body to make men start wars.” She touched Alexa’s cheekbone. “And that face.” Maylene fanned her eyes as if she were warding away more tears.
“You’re emotional tonight.” Alexa took her hand and looked in the other woman’s eyes. “What is it?”
“Change makes me emotional.” Maylene took a bobby pin and opened it between her front teeth, then slipped it near the nape of Alexa’s neck, pinning something that Alexa hadn’t even thought was awry.
Alexa did a double take. “What change?”
“What?” Maylene, picked up another bobby pin.
“You said change.”
“Don’t pay me any attention. I’ve a few things on my mind.” She patted Alexa on the shoulder, set the bobby pin down and made an exit.
Alexa cocked her head. “What the hell,” she muttered under her breath and picked up the makeup brush again, making circles on her face to apply the powder evenly.
Chapter Ten
“Ready?” Rory’s voice had a tone of impatience.
Reese shot his brother a dirty look. It wasn’t as if they’d be late to the damned masquerade ball. He adjusted his tie in the mirror. The gritty feeling in his eyes bore testimony to his sleepless night. The bags wouldn’t be as much an issue—not with this on—he raised his mask and slipped it over his head.
After Leandra’s visit, Reese’s night was sleepless for the most part. A brief excursion into slumber resulted in the dream he often had—a dream where his wolf was cornered and had to fight his way free, only to flee from even more attackers—vague, nebulous forms in his dream.
The forest was dark. The trees stood shoulder to shoulder, like sentries tightly packed to prevent entry or escape from the forest. The trees’ thick branches with their leaves and needles provided a barrier against the moon’s silver light.
Reese’s wolf pressed through the densely-packed foliage, winding his way, twisting his body to avoid catapulting into trunks that would render him senseless if he ran into them at this speed.
He was being pursued, and he’d be damned if he were caught. His wolf’s breath released in rapid-fire pants, perched on the cold air like tiny clouds before dissipating. Not that Reese’s wolf had the time to appreciate or notice the puffs his breath made. He was too busy running from four-legged beasts with fangs and glowing eyes.
His wolf pushed harder, not trying to pace himself, not worried how long he could keep this speed up. He’d keep it up as long as he could or risk dying.
Hot blood seeped down his hind leg from a gash that extended the length of that limb. He ran past a branch, brushing against it, causing it to flick the gaping wound with the intensity of a whip. He refused to yield to the pain of the wound or the weakness of lost blood.
Finally, he heard no clamor, howling, or panting behind him. He chanced a glance backward, saw no glowing eyes. He slid into a slow trot, not willing to lose momentum, ears still perked for pursuers, eyes scanning the unwelcoming environment for cover. He needed a place to hide, somewhere to heal.
If possible, a place to go into a healing sleep. A dark maw appeared to the side, mostly hidden by the trees. He drew to an abrupt stop and approached the hole slowly, inhaling, sucking a lungful of air in, tasting the scent to see if there was any sign of an animal within the opening.
Let it be a cave, his wolf’s mind hoped.
He made his way carefully into the slight hole, one paw after the other placed carefully to avoid the snap of twigs and the rustling of leaves.
The interior past the hole was dark, no problem for his wolf’s night vision. Step after step he made his way into what was definitely a cave. The cave had a tunnel, it led to another cave. He tested the air for the scent of another animal but found nothing fresh. A scent that was older permeated his senses. He paused to identify the smell, letting it roll through his olfactory sense.
Tiger? Tigress. A female? Maybe more than one.
He realized why it wasn’t easy to discern. The smell of his own blood overpowered all others. He glanced backward at his wounded hind leg. The blood was flowing steadily from the laceration.
He leaned against the cold, ha
rd wall of the cave, then slowly crumpled to the ground, licking at the wound sluggishly.
His eyes closed as a healing sleep overtook him, sending him into the deepest of slumbers, taking him from the penetrating bone-numbing cold.
Later…
Who knew how much later as the wolf slumbered in a state of no cognizance…
A rhythmic pressure penetrated his wolf’s sleep, parting the blanket of comfort he’d been under. The pressure was steady and repeated over and over gently, with an abrasive sandpaper texture.
The wolf opened his eyes, his vision instantly sharp. He was greeted by a series of white and gray stripes merged with black ones on luxurious shiny fur.
One scent overrode all others.
Tigress!
He snarled and leapt to an unsteady stand, his body against the cave’s wall to keep from wavering.
The black, gray, and white being jumped back. Vivid green eyes glowed, but were not menacing. The tigress stared at him.
He chanced a look at his thigh. It had healed, leaving behind a nasty, jagged scar.
The tigress swiveled abruptly, then turned, bounding out of sight instantly.
Not sure whom to trust, his wolf sniffed around to see if the other attackers had been in the vicinity. He traveled toward the outer cave, senses on high alert, eager to catch the scent of danger before it was too late.
The only scent he could discern was the tigress’s.
Except she was long gone. She’d been licking his wound clean of the blood that had been there—blood that would have given away his presence if any of his pursuers had been near. He breathed her scent in, wishing he could find a way to express his gratitude. Silhouette altered by the trees leaves, a sliver of sunlight gave hint that the night had passed.
And she had guarded him.
“Ready?” Rory tapped his fingers against the porcelain sink.
“Ready.” Reese pushed the memory of the dream away. It came to him so often, it was etched in his memory. The same dream, every single time. A white tigress saving his wolf.
He had no memory of anything like that ever happening in his life. That didn’t explain why he had a scar on his thigh that matched the wolf’s in his dream.
His parents said that he did it to himself when they were out-of-town on a vacation and left him and Rory with a nanny. They said Reese had tried to shift before knowing how to do so fully and he’d inflicted that on himself with his claws.
That was what the nanny told his parents. Reese was two; he had no memory of that time, but for some reason the account didn’t sit well with him.
“Let’s go then. They’re waiting outside with a golf cart.”
“As if we can’t make the walk to the main house?”
Rory shrugged. “When in Rome…”
Chapter Eleven
Lézare! There he was!
Alexa watched her brother. She tapped him on the shoulder. Lézare was staring at something—or someone—in the crowd. The mask he wore hid the circles she knew had to be there. His eyes had a bloodshot tinge. She knew that he was wearing the dark circles he got whenever he was tired. She knew she had the same, though she’d tried to get the concealer and powder to hid them.
Why does he have sleepless circles? Did he not sleep the last day since he left Arceneaux Point? He’d been gone for twenty-four hours, leaving her in a lurch.
Where the devil had he been?
He was supposed to catch her up. “I thought we were going to talk?”
“Yes, sorry.” He wiped the scowl from his face, but not before she saw it. “Are you having fun?” He looked over her shoulder.
What was he scanning for?
She looked over the crowd, found her own attention sucked into one focus, and one only.
A man. Tall, handsome, a chiseled look to a face that convinced her he could be cruel if he needed to be. He stood across the room, this man, his energy pulling her in, sucking her closer as if her spirit had left her body and was drifting toward him.
Who the hell is that?
Her tigress made a sound that was half roar, half chuff.
Why was her tigress so pulled toward him?
The man stood next to another man who resembled him, but not to her eye. To her they were as different as two could be.
“Who is that guy?” She tipped her head toward the tall man in the dark suit with a mask that didn’t hide the strength of his jaw, the fullness of a lower lip set off by a thinner upper lip that she was sure could twist into a cruel smile.
The man’s head snapped in her direction. Light eyes gazed at her from behind his mask, pinning her in a place where only the two of them existed.
Then the man next to him said something, and the one who’d captured her attention turned to respond and broke the bond that kept her captivated.
“Who?” Lézare surveyed the crowd. “Is someone being a problem? Do I need to get them out of here?”
“No the tall guy.” Then she couldn’t help herself when she added, “The hot one.” She pushed away Leandra’s mention of her finding someone soon.
This is ridiculous. It’s a coincidence. It’s got to be.
Lézare was still scanning the group, as if he couldn’t see the hunk that pulled at her attention with the force of a powerful magnet. She yanked on his sleeve.
Brothers, such a pain.
She blew out an exasperated breath. “The one with the short hair.” She pointed.
Lézare quirked a brow, an amused gleam in his eye. “They both have short hair. They’re identical twins, you know.”
And yet, she could tell them apart immediately. There was something electric between her and the one on the right.
“The one on the right,” she elaborated.
“That’s…” He squinted. “That’s Reese.” He studied her face. “I think.”
“How do you know the difference then?”
“Maybe it’s the way Rory holds his head.” Lézare shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
She studied the one he’d called Reese while she fought to keep her expression placid, not to show the storm that raged within as her tigress reacted to the tall, rugged shifter in the crowd.
The image of a wolf crossed her mind. A wounded, bleeding wolf. She blinked the thought away.
What the heck? Is this because of Leandra? Had Leandra put a spell on her already?
No, couldn’t be. Leandra said she wouldn’t. Plus, her tigress was reacting.
The tigress agreed with a chuff.
Lézare released a snort. “Alexa. Seriously?”
“What?” Oh jeez, did her voice just croak like a prepubescent teen? Surely Lézare would see right through her.
And what the hell is up with this anyway? I’m not interested in entanglements. Men are nothing but trouble, always bossing women around, trying to control them.
She’d had enough of that in her younger days. She was quite happy in her current role, helping Lézare run the operations for the Arceneaux business interests while being next to him at social events.
Or so she thought, though the way that Lézare was looking into the crowd earlier made her wonder if he had designs on a particular lady.
Lézare shook his head. She wanted to slap the smirk off his face.
Big brothers! An even bigger pain!
“Nothing.” Lézare said but the smiling smirk didn’t vanish, reminding her of the days he used to pull on her pigtails.
“Reese Nielsen?” She remembered seeing his name in Lézare’s guest list. Reese Nielsen was a wolf shifter, twin brother to Rory Nielsen, both from Houston.
Now why did her mind immediately travel to the distance between Arceneaux Point and Houston?
Six hours roughly, by car.
“Yeah,” he affirmed that it was Reese Nielsen. “So I think I’m going to sink into some fun.”
Then Alexa remembered…
“You never said why you had to leave.”
“Nothing worth talking about during t
he party,” he countered, adding, “Just a business associate who needed help with something.”
Her curiosity was piqued. “With what?”
Lézare looked away for a brief second. She knew her brother well enough to decipher that he was thinking carefully what to say.
“He lost something.”
She cast him a sideways glance. Something in his tone made her wonder, but before she could pry he, was peppering her with questions.
“How was today? Any drama?”
As if I’m going to tell him about the visit to the bayou. “No, not really.” Then she thought of something she should mention. “Well, sort of. Callie thought she had a contraction.”
Lézare’s gaze flew toward the crowd, immediately spotting the heavily pregnant Callie.
Alexa studied her cousin’s very pregnant mate. “She’s fine,” she reassured her brother. “She thinks maybe it was something she ate.”
“Merde.” Shit. “It’s good that Doc and Mae are here.”
Especially since you weren’t.
She didn’t give voice to her thoughts. “Tell me about it. You weren’t here, and I was juggling the temporary help, trying to keep them out of Maylene’s way. She’s flustered. She said next year she’s taking her vacation during this week.”
Lézare laughed.
Alexa fought back the urge to smack him.
Movement in the crowd caught her eye, she glanced at Reese Nielsen again. Women were crowding around him. How she wanted to pull him away from all the colorful ball gowns, flirty masks, and swaying hips.
“Anything else?” Lézare interrupted her thoughts.
“Not at the moment.”
“Why don’t you approach him?”
She pulled her eyes from Reese. “What?” Was Lézare picking on her? “No. I…”
“It’s okay, Alexandria.” Lézare’s propensity not to use nicknames occasionally got on her nerves, but tonight, in this environment, with their ball gowns and mask, it seemed apropos.
His words were meant to soothe her, to tell her it was okay to love, to tell her it was okay to trust.
