by Paige Tyler
Doubt crept into her heart, then fear. So many things she’d overlooked flooded her mind. The way Landry had responded in the bank, knowing what was going to happen long before anyone else. The way he’d thrown one bank robber around like a toy, and held another two feet off the floor with one hand. Then there was the gunshot wound he’d gotten, the one she couldn’t even find now. And she couldn’t forget the growls he sometimes let out.
The images closed in on her, collapsing all at once and threatening to crush her under the weight of too many strange facts. Could her brothers possibly be telling her the truth?
She locked eyes with Landry. “Tell me my brothers are lying. If you tell me, I’ll believe you.”
Tristan’s grip tightened on her shoulders. “Everly…”
“No! I want to hear it from him.” She shook off her brother’s hands then turned back to Landry. “Is it true?”
He was silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he nodded. “I’m not a monster like they say, but the rest is true. I am a werewolf.”
Most of his words were drowned out as her heart exploded in her chest, but she heard the part that mattered. Something inside her tore loose, racking her body with unbelievable pain. It felt like she was dying one heartbeat at a time.
“Everly we tried to tell you…” Tristan began, but his words trailed off when she jerked her head to pin him with her angry glare.
“How could any of you possibly know something like this?” she demanded, fresh tears in her eyes.
Tristan glanced at her other brothers before answering. “It’s the antique mirror in Dad’s house. It was made by people who spent their entire lives hunting werewolves. The mirror reflects their savage nature in the glow of their eyes.”
Oh God. Landry’s eyes.
All the times she’d seen that flash of color she’d thought it was simply the light reflecting in a funny way. God, she was so stupid. But her ignorance didn’t explain why her father would have a hideous mirror that identified werewolves in his home. Or why he’d been parading her friends and boyfriends past that thing since she was a teen. He’d even done it to Mia the first time she’d brought her roommate to visit.
“Why does Dad have something like that in his house?” she asked.
“Because Landry is the same kind of monster that killed our mother, Everly,” Armand answered, his voice softer and more pain-filled than Everly had ever heard it. “And Dad swore he would never let someone he loves be killed by one of these monsters again. So, he found people who knew how to fight these creatures, and they gave him the mirror.”
After learning that Landry was a werewolf, Everly thought there was nothing left that could shock her, but she was wrong. What Armand had just said made a lie of everything she thought had happened to their mother.
“I thought Mom was killed by one of the farmhands,” she stated.
Armand nodded. “She was. He was a drifter Dad hired. But he was also a werewolf. The man became infatuated with Mom, and when she said she wasn’t interested in him, he turned into a beast and ripped her apart.”
Everly turned her gaze on Landry again, trying to imagine him doing something like that. She liked to think he couldn’t, but then again, what did she really know about him? She’d seen him attack those men in the bank. Maybe he was more of an animal than she realized.
“Why didn’t anyone ever tell me what really happened to Mom?” she demanded of her brothers.
Armand sighed. “Because you already knew it. You were there and saw the whole thing.”
“No, I wasn’t.” What was he talking about? She remembered that day like it was yesterday. “Mom pushed me behind the kitchen counter. I didn’t see anything.”
Armand shook his head. “No, she didn’t. That might be what you want to remember because the truth is too painful. When we got to the house, we found you standing in the kitchen beside Mom’s body, blood all over you and still trying to scream. But you’d already screamed yourself hoarse. You—”
“That’s enough, Armand,” Tristan cut him off. “She doesn’t need to hear any more.”
But Everly already heard enough. She suddenly remembered the sensation of something warm and wet hitting her face that day—her mother’s blood. Just like that, the rest of the memories came rushing in like a tidal wave of fear and pain. She remembered her mother telling her to run, but being too frightened to move, then her mother screaming and begging the farmhand for her life and Everly’s. And above everything else, she remembered the horrible, awful growls so similar to the ones Landry made.
Everly clamped her hands over her ears. She didn’t want to remember any more, but she couldn’t stop the sounds or the memories. They played repeatedly in her head, and she watched her mother die right in front of her, over and over again.
Stifling a sob, Everly turned and ran for the door. She heard angry voices and the sounds of a struggle behind her, but she didn’t stop.
She didn’t even realize she’d grabbed her car keys until she squealed out of the parking lot. She hit the road in front of the complex moving way too fast and almost spun in a complete circle, but she didn’t care. She had to get away from there.
She didn’t know where she was going, so she just drove. Now that she knew what had happened to her mother, it seemed like a dam burst in her head. With every mile that passed, she saw more and more details of her mother’s murder, and it terrified her.
Equally as terrifying was the realization that she’d been so wrong about Landry. How could she not have known he was a monster? She’d been with him almost constantly for nearly a week. They’d made love, for heaven’s sake!
Part of her wanted to believe this was all a crazy misunderstanding, that her brothers were wrong, and that Landry wasn’t a monster. That he would come after her and make all of this okay.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Her brothers were right. Landry was a monster. And she was never going to be okay again.
She hit the 635 loop, then Interstates 20 and 35 in an almost random fashion, but what she was really doing was driving in a big circle around Dallas. Her mind spun in circles just as large and traffic-filled as the highway, but she kept going. She needed to think.
She vaguely remembered stopping to get gas at a deserted station where she normally never would have stopped, then made another circle around the city, followed by another.
At three in the morning, she finally found herself in front of Landry’s apartment.
What the hell was she doing here? But she knew the answer to that question. She needed answers, and Landry was the only one who could give them to her.
Landry opened the door before she even knocked, relief on his face. “Everly, thank God.”
He made as if to put his arms around her, but she held up her hands. “Don’t touch me. I’m only here to ask you a few questions. That’s all. You just keep your distance.”
Pain filled his eyes, but he nodded resignedly and stepped away from the door, then moved all the way to the far side of the living room and waited. He’d changed out of his uniform into jeans and a T-shirt.
Everly closed the door quietly behind her, but didn’t move away from it. Now that she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to say, or even how to start.
“I was scared when you ran out like that,” Landry finally said. “I wanted to go after you, but your brothers wouldn’t let me. They said I’d hurt you enough already.”
She nodded, realizing for once, her brothers had been right. If Landry had followed her, she probably would have lost her mind.
“I never knew I buried all those memories of my mom’s death,” she said. “Not until I saw you survive that knife wound. Until I learned what you are.”
Landry didn’t say anything. Then again, what could he say?
“Were you bitten against your will?” she asked.
She had to know if he was a werewolf because he’d wanted to be a monster. Or was it something that had been done to
him? She didn’t know why that was important, but it was.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way. People who become werewolves are born with a gene that predisposes them to it. If we go through a traumatic, violent event, we change into a werewolf. We don’t run around biting people to make more.”
A stupid part of her was relieved she didn’t have to worry about becoming a werewolf from all the times he’d nibbled her neck. The memories of how good things had been between them made her want to cry for all they’d lost.
“Was it Iraq that did it to you?” she asked after a moment, mostly to keep her mind from going places she didn’t want it to go.
“Yeah. I broke my back in three places, crushed my spinal cord completely, and had five pounds of frag shoved through me. I should have died that day, but the wolf inside wouldn’t let me. It healed me.”
Even though he was a monster, she felt thankful for that. Despite what he was, the idea of something happening to Landry made it hard to even take a breath.
“I want to see the wound,” she said. “From where my brother stabbed you.”
He seemed hesitant, like he no longer wanted her to see his body, even though she’d already seen all of it—more than once. She knew it so well she could draw him from memory.
But he finally lifted the T-shirt to expose his torso. Everly tried not to gasp when she saw the smooth, light pick scar on his chest.
“Did it hurt?” she asked.
He dropped his shirt down. “When Armand stabbed me? Yeah, it hurt like hell. But not as much as the way you’re looking at me now. That’s much worse.”
The pain in his voice made her want to run across the room and put her arms around him. But she firmed her resolve. “Would that knife have killed you if Armand had stabbed you in the heart?”
Landry didn’t answer right away. He probably thought she was looking for information on how to do a better job on him next time. She wasn’t, but she didn’t know how to explain why she wanted to know that small bit of information. She just did.
“Yes,” he said. “A few inches in the wrong direction, and I wouldn’t be here now.”
The thought made her queasy, and she leaned back against the door for support. “Why did that other werewolf kill my mother?”
That one seemed to surprise him. “I don’t know. We aren’t all the same, regardless of what your brothers told you. What do you remember about the attack? If you don’t mind talking about it, I mean.”
There was nothing she wanted to talk about less, but when she opened her mouth to tell him that, she found herself recounting what she recalled.
“I remember blood—a lot of blood. And my mom screaming.” She took a deep breath. “The werewolf was so angry. He kept shouting at my mom as he attacked her.”
“It sounds like an omega werewolf that went out of control,” Landry said.
She frowned. “An omega?”
His mouth twisted sardonically. “I’m no expert on this—unlike your family, apparently—but there are three types of werewolves. Alphas, who are big, strong, fast, and in control. Betas, who aren’t as big, or as strong, or as fast, but who have much stronger pack instincts. Then there are omegas. They’re as big and strong as alphas, but have almost no social skills. They tend to be loners, and that can make them dangerous. They can sometimes lose control and hurt people.”
Everly tried to wrap her head around the fact that there was a whole other world out there—a world where monsters came in different flavors. She didn’t have to ask to know that Landry was the first type—an alpha. “So when this omega got angry at my mom, he lost control?”
Landry nodded. “Probably.”
She searched her memory of that day, but her recollection of the werewolf was fuzzy. She mostly remembered him growling a lot. And the fact that he had big teeth. Even knowing what she did now, that seemed insane.
“Did he really have fangs and claws, or am I imagining that?”
It was Landry’s turn to frown. “Are you sure you want me telling you this? Tristan implied it might not be good for you to push so hard to remember. There’s a reason your subconscious suppressed those memories.”
“Tristan doesn’t have a right to decide what I get to know about our mother’s death, or when I get to know it. None of my brothers do,” she said sharply. “This monster that killed my mom. Did it have fangs and claws, like I remember?”
Landry ran his hand through his hair, looking torn. “Yeah, he did. Alphas and betas are better at controlling it, but with omegas, the claws and fangs come out anytime they’re upset.”
She considered that fact. It was terrifying to know there were monsters with claws and fangs in the world—and that Landry was one of them. She still couldn’t reconcile that fact.
“Show me,” she ordered.
“Show you what?” he asked.
“I want to see what you really look like.”
Maybe then she would really believe what he was. Despite the flare of gold in his eyes, his superhuman strength, and ability to heal faster than a normal person, part of her still didn’t want to believe he was a monster.
On the other side of the room, Landry looked at her as if he regretted ever having opened the door and letting her in. But now that she was here, there was no going back.
She took a step toward him. Now he was the one moving away from her. That hurt, but she had to know.
“I want to see the claws and the fangs,” she said.
When she took another step closer, he edged around the couch, putting it between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Everly. Considering what you’re dealing with right now, seeing something like that could do more harm than good.”
He was saying that to protect her, exactly like her father and brothers had done. But she didn’t need protection anymore. She needed the truth.
“Let me decide that,” she said. “I think you owe me this much, don’t you?”
The anguish in his eyes was almost enough to make her take back the words. But she resisted. She needed to see Landry in his true form.
“I never wanted things to be this way, Everly,” he said softly. “I’d planned to tell you about what I am when the time was right. When you were ready.”
“I am ready,” she insisted.
No, she wasn’t. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest.
“Everly, please don’t ask me to do this.”
“Show me, damn you!” she shouted.
She thought Landry would refuse yet again, but then his eyes turned that golden color she’d thought was so beautiful before. Even now, she was mesmerized by it. But then the fangs slowly came out. Easily an inch long and unbelievably sharp, they gleamed in the light. Curved claws followed, extending beyond his fingers like edged weapons.
Just like that, she was transported to that day twenty years ago, watching as an enraged werewolf ripped her mother apart. But this time, she saw every detail of the killer’s face. The glowing eyes, the flashing fangs, the deadly claws. All the same characteristics that Landry possessed.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
Whirling around, she yanked open the door with a trembling hand and raced out of the apartment. She couldn’t believe she was stupid enough to have come here in the first place.
Landry let her go. She had no idea what she would have done if he’d followed her. Now that she’d seen what he looked like, she wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to look at him again. How could she ever have fallen in love with a monster to begin with?
Chapter 15
Cooper wandered into the admin building at the compound a little after seven the next morning. For the second time in his life, he was late for work. Not that he could give a damn. He had more important things to worry about. Like how fucked up last night had been. How the hell had everything with Everly gone to crap so fast?
When she’d run out of her apartment in tears, his first instinct had b
een to chase after her. But of course, her asshole brothers had moved to block the doorway, telling him he’d done enough damage and to leave their sister alone.
“The only reason you aren’t dead already is because you saved Everly’s life during that bank robbery,” Armand told him. “But if you go after her again, we will kill you.”
It had taken everything in him not to rip those four jerks to pieces. But he restrained himself, partly because they were right. He had caused enough damage already.
So, he’d stood there glaring at them for fifteen minutes until they finally left. He’d thought about putting out a BOLO on Everly’s car, but then realized that was stupid. What the hell would he do if a cop found her and pulled her over? If she was still in the same emotional state she’d been in when she left her apartment, the officer would probably take her into police custody for her own good. He hadn’t wanted that, so instead, he prayed she’d be okay.
In the middle of the night, when she’d shown up at his place, her eyes red from crying and full of fresh tears, he’d wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. But she couldn’t even stand to be near him. Things had just gone from bad to worse after that. Why the hell had he agreed to shift in front of her? That had to be the dumbest thing any werewolf had ever done.
He had followed her that time, but at a safe distance so she wouldn’t see him, just to make sure she made it home okay. Then he’d sat in his Jeep a couple blocks down the street for the rest of the night, both to make sure she didn’t go out again and to figure out how to fix the mess.
He hadn’t come up with anything. All he’d done was berate himself for not telling her his secret earlier. Not that it would have helped. What kind of cruel fuck was fate to let a werewolf fall in love with the one woman on the planet whose mother had been killed by one of his kind?
So much for love conquering all and her being The One. Then again, maybe she was The One for him, and he’d just fucked it up. The folktale only said every werewolf had that one perfect soul mate out there. It didn’t say they were guaranteed to be together. Quite obviously, he was so good at fucking things up that he’d even screwed up a fairy-tale romance.
