by Elle Thorne
Truthfully, Mason was confused when he received Lézare’s invitation to Escape Weekend. He was surprised he was invited. But he understood the invitation, as now he was family, more or less, since his brother Mark had taken the Arceneaux distant cousin Veila for a mate.
So, of course, he came to Escape Weekend. He deliberated on it, back and forth. He’d even vacillated over the choice, but the decision came quickly, over and over again.
He needed answers from Evie.
Hell, he needed more than answers. He needed Evie. In his life. In his bed.
Bed. Damn.
That’s the last thing he should have thought. His cock twitched in his pants at the thought.
He remembered the last time they’d had sex as if it had happened yesterday.
It had been the afternoon of their breakup. And it had been hot as hell. His pulse raced in agreement, his body responded, his cock straining against his pants.
He took a deep breath. Time to cool down.
Then he noticed Kaitlyn got up and returned to her seat.
Evie was alone.
It’s now or never.
Mason unfolded his large muscular frame from the seat, careful not to bump his head on the overhead panel just above his seat. He rolled his shoulders to break some of the tightness.
She was his. There was no reason to be hesitant.
Unless you were to count the last time he saw her…
On the mountain.
After the awesome sex.
* * *
All those years ago…
Finals were over. Mason had sprung for a trip to Colorado for some skiing for himself and Evie. They’d met friends there and shared a condo. He’d been out in the afternoon. His lion eager to explore, he’d sidetracked to the mountains and left her at the condo. He’d asked her if she wanted to join him in the mountains, to give their felines a chance to reconnoiter and enjoy some freedom.
She’d rolled over from her afternoon nap, her hair a lovely red mess, her lips full and slightly bruised, and her body still smelling like sex. He leaned down to kiss her, relishing the scent of her and felt his cock twitch.
Fuck. At this rate my lion will never get to enjoy a run through the snow or a walk in the forest.
And with that, he left his curvy woman taking an afternoon nap, while he proceeded to head toward the isolation of the trees on the mountains.
He was almost out the front door of the condo when Todd, his college roommate, stopped him.
In all, six couples had traveled together for R&R. Not exactly couples. His roommate Todd brought his sister, as he was between girlfriends.
“Where you going?” Todd asked.
“Exploring.”
Todd’s brows dipped in a frown. “How about Evie?”
“She’s napping. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”
Evie was a notorious napper. She could lay down for a nap right after lunch and sleep until the next morning. He was confident she wouldn’t be up when he returned.
Todd nodded. “We’ll keep an eye on her.”
Not sure why.
His lion roared in his head, ready to get on the way.
“Okay.” Mason agreed so he could get the hell out of there quickly, ready to let his lion shift and roam.
He walked out of sight of the condo, stopping behind a cluster of trees. Mason listened for any sounds of life, his shifter hearing straining to pick up heartbeats or movement.
Nothing.
He was all alone.
Exhaling a breath in relief, he prepared himself and turned his body over to his lion.
The lion made a chuffing sound of appreciation.
Mason steeled himself for the discomfort. A few popping sounds, then the sensation of tendons stretching, a creaking sound as his bones shifted, and within seconds, he stood, proud and thick-chested, a large lion with a tan mane, tipped with black in places. His clothes shifted, staying intact, but hidden by his lion’s body.
Mason pawed the snow. He’d never seen the cold powder, not in his human form since he was young, and never in his lion form.
He buried the tip of his nose in it and blew warm air on the snow that surrounded his wide muzzle. The snow turned liquid. He shook his head in the snow drift, letting his mane be covered in the white frost.
How he wanted to roar. To let the power of his lion release in the deathly silent mountainous area, where the only sound was the wind blowing through the trees.
But he couldn’t.
No, that would attract undue attention, and that was the last thing he and his shifter friends in the condo needed.
So instead, he let his energy loose in a lope. Running and trotting, switching pace and covering much area.
Fewer than thirty minutes ago, he’d left the condo and that mountain behind and was picking his way amongst large rocks and snow on an isolated ridge. Hopefully a good amount of snow would fall and hide his tracks. He didn’t need anyone finding his prints and sending out a crew to locate the creature.
He loped to the top of the ridge and studied the ravine below, then leapt to a large boulder and scanned the horizon.
The pyramid-like peaks of a set of snow-dusted sister mountains with flat faces and sharp corners. Spruce and fir peppered the mountains, growing in areas that were pure rock and others where the trees were dense, almost impenetrable.
His lion pounced to a large boulder, surveying the landscape and dropped to his haunches then lay back, head erect.
He wanted to release a roar so badly. But instead he allowed himself a small series of short huffs, as if calling out to establish his dominance.
Mason felt his lion’s inner peace and he let his guard down, allowing himself to reflect on the life he’d attained, leaving behind his delinquent ways, mourning his best friend, setting aside the life of questionable means, and now, having found his mate.
Mason was ready to move to the next step in his life, and his lion was in lockstep with him on this agenda. He pawed at the stone beneath him, claws etching horizontal white lines in the rocky surface.
He should make his way back. He pushed off the rock.
For a second, Mason didn’t know what hit him. All he knew was he was broadsided and fell from the rock, careening into the ridge below. Somehow, he managed to right himself before he hit the ground, so he landed on his paws—shook up, but unhurt.
Wondering what the hell struck him and knocked him off the boulder on the ledge, Mason looked up at the spot where he’d been.
White, with dark stripes almost blending in except for her vivid eyes, Evie stood on the boulder glaring at him. She was in tigress form, something he hadn’t seen. They’d never had cause or reason to shift before.
Her eyes, a light blue color, rimmed in silver were filled with fury, even from his spot in the ravine he could see the anger. He could feel her rage emanating off her tigress.
Then it hit him.
She was what knocked him off.
What the fuck?
He pushed for a sync, the shifter way to communicate when in animal form. A silent verbalization that traveled from one shifter’s mind to the other’s, accessible by invitation and opening the link.
He was met with a resistance as solid as a rock wall. He pushed again, this time adding, “Evie. What are you doing here? What was that about?”
He felt her open the communication portal between them, the sensation like a window opening and a breeze flowing through.
“How dare you? I trusted you.” She leapt from the boulder on the ledge, landing next to him with a soft puff of a snow cloud where her paws landed. She sunk into the soft powder slightly. Her fur was luxurious, shiny, and thick.
He longed to push his nose into it, to take in her tigress scent, to nuzzle with her. But he couldn’t. She was pissed and he was clueless.
“What are you talking about?”
Lightning fast, she struck him with her claws, swiftly, across his face. The sliced flesh smarted. He looked
at the ground where red drops were accumulating, dripping from his face, forming crimson patterns in the blanket of white snow.
Mason couldn’t react. He’d never struck a woman, even one in her shifter form. He never would. And Evie was the last one he could ever hurt anyway.
So what was she upset about? “I’m not sure I understand.”
Her tigress eyes glittered dangerously. The pupils weren’t more than a slit. She lowered her lids, narrowing her gaze. Her tail twitched. Her shoulders and neck were stiff.
“I never want to see you again. Ever. I hope that’s clear.”
And that was the last of it. She never talked to him again.
Just like that.
No explanations.
No nothing.
* * *
Mason took a deep breath. That seemed like eons ago. And at the same time it was fresh on his mind and in his heart. It’s not like she could pull that scene again, not on a bus, not with all these people watching.
He paused, just behind her seat. She was looking outside, the hat gone. From the reflection in the window, he could see she’d added gloss to her lips and color to her cheeks. Her hair looked smoother too.
Where did she vanish to last night? He’d overheard someone say she went to her room to pout. He heard someone else say it was because of an ex-boyfriend. He wondered if they meant him.
Surely she didn’t care about him anymore. She wouldn’t have broken up with him if she had.
He stepped forward and dropped into the seat next to her.
She flinched, then turned his way, her eyebrows dipping into a frown the sunglasses couldn’t hide. Full lips were drawn into a stern line.
His throat went dry. He tried to work it. Felt his Adam’s apple moving, but his lips wouldn’t cooperate.
“What are you doing here? Go away.” Her tone was more of a serpentine hiss than spoken words.
“I want to talk to you.”
He raised his hands, took her glasses off.
“What the—” She bit down on her lip, sealing her response away.
Her eyes, green when she was in human form were the color of the sea during a storm, and surrounded by bloodshot white.
Hangover or crying?
Lust bubbled up inside and threatened to overflow. Even at what she would consider her worst, when the redness made her eyes so much more vivid, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met. Hell, she was sexier now than she’d ever been. She’d matured. Some of the planes of her face had changed, some of her curves were fuller. She was 150 percent woman now, so much more so than in their college day.
And 1000 percent fuckable.
Her scent was heavenly. The same perfume. She hadn’t changed that. And it wasn’t masking the fact she was still turned on by him. Hope grew like tiny ivy in the crevices of a dilapidated sidewalk that she might want him still.
His lion chuffed in his mind.
She was silent, but her glare spoke volumes.
It also contradicted the scent she was sending out. Her glare warned him to back the fuck off, though her scent invited him to fuck her like he’d never fucked her before.
Mason fought the urge to shake his head at the confusing messages.
Her tongue slipped out, licked her lips the way it did when she was thinking of something to say.
The sight of that was like touching a sexual electrode to his drive. His cock pulsed with need. Mason held his breath.
“I hate you.”
His muscles tightened. Looked like hate beat lust.
She couldn’t hate him. Could she?
“Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you?”
A tiny gasp escaped her, then as if getting control of her emotions, she let out a low derisive laugh. Her eyes turned hard, ice chips in that deep green. Her tigress flashed silver and gold flecks.
“You. Have. The. Fucking. Nerve.” Her words were low, ground out with such intensity and finality.
His racing, raging heartbeat froze.
His lion rumbled displeasure in Mason’s mind. Mason pushed his beast back.
Chapter Five
Evie cursed her body for its betrayal. She cursed her tigress for being behind it. She knew her tigress’s feelings on the matter. Her tigress insisted Mason would never have hurt her. That her eyes were deceiving her.
Bullshit.
She saw what she saw.
Fury blazed a trail through her body.
Mason’s Adam’s apple worked—as if he was nervous.
Maybe he is nervous. Maybe he’s worried my hatred for him will spill over onto my family. Maybe he thinks it will hurt their business interests.
It wasn’t likely he gave a shit about Evie and her feelings. Why would he? After what he did! That was the ultimate act of betrayal.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Evie’s tigress was coming out. She couldn’t help it. How dare he ask her why she hated him.
The image was seared into her mind. Branded with an intensity that burned brightly.
* * *
What seemed like forever ago…
She and Mason and a few of their shifter friends in college had been on vacation in Colorado. Evie woke from a nap and went downstairs to find Mason. The group of their friends were all hanging out downstairs.
Kait and her boyfriend, Mason’s roommate Todd who was in between girlfriends had invited his sister, and three other couples that Evie had just met.
“Mason?”
“He left about thirty minutes ago,” Todd’s sister Melissa said.
“That’s right.” She remembered Mason waking her to tell her he was heading out for a while.
Evie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and took an empty mug from the cabinet. She warmed a cup of milk in the microwave and dumped hot cocoa mix in, stirring the creamy concoction, inhaling deeply, enjoying the comforting aroma of the cup’s contents.
“Hey. Have a second?” Todd put his hand on her shoulder.
Evie glanced at his hand, then back at him, shrugging slightly. She didn’t want to offend Todd, but she didn’t find him particularly likable. He was Mason’s roommate, and she didn’t want to create hassles for Mason, so she contained the shudder of revulsion that traveled up her spine. She couldn’t peg why he creeped her out. He simply did.
“Sure. What’s up?” Though truth be told, she’d rather go back to their room and cuddle up with the hot cocoa and a good book until Mason came back.
“Over here.” He indicated down the hallway toward the back of the condo, where the bedrooms were.
She frowned, but went—because, well, he was Mason’s roommate after all. She’d been reminding herself to keep that in mind since Todd moved in.
Todd opened the door to the room he was sharing with his sister, then closed it behind him. Evie took a step closer to the door.
“Don’t worry. I just want to show you this.”
He reached for a drawer on the dresser and pulled out a folder. Opening it, he held it out for her to see.
It was the size of notebook paper, but clearly a photo. She glanced at it, then looked at Todd.
“Is that—”
She did a double take. “Wh—”
She couldn’t make any words. No words came to her mind at all. Just an image. Burned into her mind.
Mason? Mason was in the picture? And a girl on her knees in front of him? The tattoo he’d gotten the week before that was evident on the forearms she’d always loved.
She grabbed the dresser for support, shaking her head slowly.
This can’t be. This… There was no way.
But yeah, there was a way, since she was staring at it.
She reached for the photo.
“I can’t let you take it.” Todd shoved it back in the folder. “I don’t need the drama. I didn’t show this to you. You can’t tell Mason. Swear it.”
Evie nodded, not completely processing what he was saying. The only thing that seemed to be running through her mind was that im
age, over and over.
Her knees felt like they’d dissolved, becoming nothing more than noodles. Her stomach pitched and heaved. She didn’t want to swallow for fear that would bring her one step closer to vomiting, and she was already on that ledge.
She turned, opened the door and slipped into the hallway, making her way to her room, fearful someone would try to talk to her and she wouldn’t be able to.
The betrayal.
Ugh.
And here she stood, in their room, still smelling like him. Smelling like sex. And some girl had been…
She slammed her fist into her palm.
This isn’t happening.
She was torn between never talking to him again and wanting to hurt him physically the way she was now devastated emotionally.
* * *
And here Mason was… on the bus. Today.
Threatening tears burned. Evie quelled them before they could well up. The pain of that was just as intense today.
She clenched her jaw.
“Just go.”
Mason’s eyes narrowed. A tic in his jaw gave away his anger, yet he said nothing. Shoulders and spine stiff, the man she’d wanted to spend her life with, the man she would never have believed would hurt her, rose, and turned sharply, giving her his back, he made his way to the rear of the bus.
Chapter Six
The rest of the bus ride was short, except it wasn’t, because when you’re reliving the hell of the past, time doesn’t seem to release its relentless claws from gripping your soul, ripping into it, tearing it apart.
But Evie held it together. As best as she could. And she had a game plan, of sorts.
She’d get everyone situated at Quake and then she’d find a bathroom stall and spend the entire meal in there—hiding. She’d let them assume she was flitting from table to table and room to room, visiting with the rest of the bus.
Okay, maybe it was a little lame as game plans went, but it was better than nothing.
The bus entered New Orleans and cruised the outskirts of the French Quarter, to the “ohs” and “ahs” of the shifters inside before pulling up to the unmarked building she knew was Quake even though there was no sign on the door and no street number visible.
