by Everly Frost
Luna’s eyes soften as her luminous gaze passes across Jace to her sister.
Lydia gives a long, low sigh at the silent conversation she has with her sister. “I know,” she says. “But no good can come of it.”
This time, Luna doesn’t fight her sister’s wishes.
“We’ll be on our way.” Lydia slips her arm through Luna’s and guides her away.
I exhale, suddenly realizing that I was holding my breath, uncertain what Luna might say.
The pause in the doorway has forced us to stand much closer together than I want us to be. As soon as Iyana strides away from Jace and me to take up position on the right-hand side of the room—a safe distance from the knife targets—I hurry away from him as quickly as I can.
I stop in front of the knife rack, keeping Jace in the corner of my vision, satisfied when he stays at a distance. Studying the knives, I consider my options, uncertain which blade to choose, but not because I’m uncomfortable. Already, I’m feeling more at home around these weapons. The difficulty is that there are so many to choose from.
I pick up the blade sitting directly to my right, gripping it and getting a sense of its weight and balance. It has a basic black handle and a sharp point while the edge itself isn’t sharp.
“Those are good to start with,” Jace says, lifting his voice so I can hear him across the space. “You’re less likely to hurt yourself while you learn.”
I stop myself before I huff. Hurt myself. Right.
He points at a spot near the knife rack about six feet from the first target. “Stand there. Right foot a little forward. Back straight. And relax.”
I glare at him. His barked orders aren’t exactly conducive to relaxation.
“Hold the knife by the handle, blade to the sky. You’re going to try for a full rotation when you throw it,” he says.
Taking a deep breath and attempting to relax, I follow his instructions and pitch the blade as hard as I can at the target. It bounces off the wood and flies wide, clattering and sliding across the floor.
Oops…
I’m grateful Iyana is standing well away from its trajectory.
“Not so hard!” Jace shouts. “You want to use medium force, not everything you’ve got. Here…”
He strides toward me, veers toward the knife rack to pluck another knife off it, and then barges straight toward me.
I back away from him like a startled cat, needing to keep my distance. My arms fly up into a defensive position as I move, taking on a combative pose. “Stay back!”
He pulls up short, his eyes widening at my stance. His arms rise away from his sides before he bends slowly to put the knife on the floor and back away from it.
“It’s okay,” he says, lowering his voice as he backsteps. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Damn. He thinks I’m afraid of him.
“That’s not…” I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Just keep your distance. Okay?”
“Sure.” He nods before inclining his blond head at the knife on the ground. “Try that one. This time, use moderate force.”
I wait for him to return to his original position before I stride to the knife, scoop it up, and resume my stance six feet away from the target.
“Relax,” he calls, much more gently this time. “Hold the handle with your thumb on top. Point the blade at the sky. Remember: moderate force, not full force.”
I follow his instructions, bending my arm at the elbow, and let the knife fly.
It makes a satisfying thud as it hits the target and sticks.
I break into a grin and let out a whoop. It’s not exactly a bullseye, but it’s much closer than I ever got with a gun.
“Yes!” Iyana calls from the side, grinning from ear to ear.
“Not bad,” Jace says, striding toward me again. “Better than guns, right?”
“Much better.” I smile back at him.
For a second, I forget that I need to keep my distance.
I also forget how fast he is.
He closes the gap between us in a blink. His hand whips out to grip my wrist in a suddenly aggressive move.
What the hell—?
I retaliate on instinct, twisting, dropping my weight, and flipping him onto his back. He hits the ground but is already rolling back to his feet and coming right back at me.
Iyana runs toward us, but she pulls up short at the warning look I give her a split second before Jace tries to grab me again.
Blocking his attempts, I hit back, landing quick, sharp blows on his face and shoulders before dropping him right back to the ground.
He jumps up again, barreling into me with full force and wrenching me off my feet. It’s the same move Cody used on me, but I know how to deal with it this time. Before he can hoist me over his shoulder, I ram my right knee into his chest, forcing him to double over. He drops me to the ground, where I use our downward momentum to flip him over me once again.
He lands with a heavy thud, gripping his side and, this time, he remains where he lies, chest heaving, staring up at the ceiling.
I loom over him, elbows bent and hands up, prepared in case he tries to grab me again.
“Stay down,” I order him.
“Fuck,” he says, still staring upward, his deeper-than-green eyes cast into shadow when he runs the back of his hand across his forehead. “I knew you couldn’t be afraid of me.”
Very slowly, he twists to the side and rises to his feet, squaring his shoulders, reminding me that he’s a powerful shifter with an angry wolf concealed inside.
He exhales…
And inhales. Deeply.
I step back, but it’s too late.
He knows I’m in control.
Chapter Thirteen
I watch Jace carefully, unsure if I’ve got my power as under control as I think I do. I’m wary of the telltale dilation of his pupils that will mean he’s about to lose his shit.
Nothing happens.
He exhibits no signs of uncontrollable rage, desire, or any other emotion. Except a hint of betrayal in his suddenly rough voice.
“You didn’t want me to find out,” he says, shaking his head at me, his eyes holding an accusation I can’t deny. “Helen said you were months away from being ready, but you’ve got everything under control already.”
I clench my fists, screaming internally. “Don’t blame Helen. She’s only trying to protect me.” I keep my voice low and calm. I’m determined not to beg him to keep my secret. “You can’t tell Tristan. Not yet.”
A muscle clenches in Jace’s jaw. He narrows his eyes at me, his expression cold. I should be wary of his rising anger. After all, he’s Tristan’s right-hand-man.
“What do you want from me, Tessa?” He snarls. “Do you want me to lie to Tristan? Is that it?”
“Don’t tell him, Jace. I need more time.”
Jace runs his hand through his honey blond hair as he presses his lips together. He shakes his head, glares at the floor, then turns his glare on me. “Tristan and I have always been honest with each other,” he says. “Even when we don’t like what the other has to say. Now you’re asking me to lie to him. He hates liars.”
“Then he’ll hate me more than he already does,” I snap. “It’s not like he plans to keep me alive.”
Jace’s glower intensifies. I expect him to have a comeback—I need him to have a comeback, because otherwise his silence confirms my belief.
To Tristan, I am expendable.
Jace spins on his heel without another word.
My heart sinks.
“I’m dead once I leave this house, Jace,” I say, my lips twisting. “I can start counting down my days.”
He pulls to a stop five paces away, his shoulders tense, fists clenching.
“Give me another month. Just one.” I take a step toward him, trying not to hold my breath when he doesn’t pull away. “I have a home here. With people who care what happens to me. The second you tell Tristan that I’m in control, he’ll rip it all away from me.”
&nbs
p; Jace is silent. His fingers slowly uncurl, relaxing, and I have no idea whether or not that’s a good sign.
“Please,” I whisper, hating that I’m begging when I promised myself I wouldn’t. “Just another month.”
He sighs. Half-turns. “I’m sorry, Tessa.”
My heart sinks. “Fuck you,” I whisper.
I have no choice but to watch him walk away.
Iyana hurries to my side as soon as he leaves, reaching out for me. “Tessa, what’s going on?”
Despite all the time I’ve spent training with her, I haven’t told Iyana about the impact of my power on other wolf shifters or about Tristan’s intentions for me. I want to tell her, but the memory of her reaction when she thought Tristan might have hurt me is still raw in my mind. I can’t break her beliefs.
I stick to what I can tell her. “Tristan’s coming back for me. That’s all.”
She grabs my arm when I attempt to turn away. “You told Jace that you’ll be dead once you leave this house,” she says, trying to force me to look her in the eye. “Why?”
I avoid her gaze. “Tristan has plans for me. That’s all you need to know.”
“Tessa—”
“I have to find Helen.” I pull away from Iyana, hurrying for the door.
Racing down the corridor, I hope that the staircase will lead me wherever Helen is currently located.
I enter the garden to find her meditating like she often does.
Normally, I would take a seat on the cushion opposite her before I speak. I’d focus on my own breathing and allow my wolf to separate from my body, taking advantage of the silence to practice controlling my wolf and my power.
Today, I’m too agitated, striding toward her with heavy footsteps. “Helen, I—”
“Calm,” she says without opening her eyes. “Remember what I taught you.”
I take a breath instead of arguing with her. One of the most important things I need to do is remain in control no matter what’s going on around me, to let it all wash off me without losing my cool.
Over the last two months, Helen has been teaching me how to control my anger and defensiveness. Those emotions are still a big part of me, but she’s trained me so that I can use them as weapons. Or at least she’s attempted to.
Sinking onto the pillow, I breathe deeply, focusing only on my breathing and the soft breeze around me before I allow my wolf to separate from me.
Released from the confines of my body, my wolf pads away through the trees, calm again.
I close my eyes and take in everything she sees and smells—the slightly damp earth, the new violet tinge to the silver vines trailing along the lush tree branches, and the quiet call of a distant bird—a hawk. The bird’s call sounds a lot like Danika’s voice when she speaks.
Helen and I and my wolf stay like that for nearly half an hour until finally, Helen draws me out of my calm when she exhales a deep sigh.
Opening my eyes, I recognize the regret in her expression, the way her hands turn across her knees, palms up.
My wolf continues to explore around us, but I’ve learned how to put her sensory input to the side while I focus on what’s in front of me.
“Tristan knows that you’re in control now,” Helen says, her voice soft. “In my last message I sent with Jace, I told Tristan that you weren’t ready. He knows I lied to him.”
I lower my gaze. “I’m sorry, Helen. I never wanted to create conflict between you and Tristan.”
“Hush. You didn’t ask me to do this. I offered. Besides, he’s still locked out. He can rage all he likes right now.”
Her smile remains gentle.
I close my eyes and take deep breaths. “I won’t survive once I leave this house. Tristan will throw me into situations I don’t want to be in. He doesn’t care if he gets me killed.”
Helen lowers her gaze, studying her hands. “You’re stronger than that, Tessa,” she says, finally meeting my gaze. “You’ve trained harder than any other woman who’s ever set foot in this place. You’ve conquered your wolf and tamed your energy. You’ve grown strong in your body and your mind. And… you shouldn’t underestimate your value to Tristan.”
Frustration burns hot in my chest, but I calm myself again. “I’m a chess piece to him.”
Helen tips her head, her dark hair floating at her side. She’s wearing a dress today with flowing sleeves that flutter around her wrists. “Not an ordinary piece, Tessa. You’re the queen on the board.”
My eyes widen. I don’t know much about chess, but the queen is the most powerful piece—and her end can have significant consequences.
“Right now, you’re waiting at the back of the army,” Helen says. “But Tristan plans to put you into play. After that, your choices are your own.”
Her statement makes me shiver.
“I expect Tristan will come for you tomorrow,” Helen says. “In the meantime, take the afternoon off. Prepare yourself emotionally and mentally.”
I pick at my nails, feeling nervous enough that my wolf raises her head from the flower she was inspecting.
“Deep breaths, Tessa,” Helen says gently. “You can do this.”
I give her a nod, slowing every movement down to maintain my calm. I remind myself: “I have everything I need.”
Drawing my wolf back to myself, I stand and take the stairs more calmly than I thought I would in the face of Tristan coming back for me.
Instead of returning to my room, I spend the next few hours until lunchtime exploring Hidden House like I promised myself I would one day but thought I had more time to do.
Opening my mind to possibilities, I ascend the stairs and find myself stepping out onto a glittering mountain, rockfaces soaring up on either side of me and only a narrow pass in between. In the distance, a sliver of clear sky beckons to me.
A cool breeze whistles through the mountain, but the wind is at my back, urging me to take the steps to the cliff’s edge, where the sky opens up and the rockface plummets, a smooth face that’s so high up, all I see is clouds beneath me.
I smile into the wispy white. “Love the metaphor, Helen,” I say, imagining she can hear me right now.
I’m about to walk a narrow path, boxed in on both sides with only one way forward with an inevitable fall at the end of it. But who knows what’s hidden beneath the clouds? The possibilities are endless. I just have to trust that I’ll have the courage to find out.
Turning and taking the narrow pass back to the stairs, I finally venture down to the garden for lunch.
I’m nervous about what I’ll say to Iyana—and how I’ll bring myself to say goodbye to her and Danika.
By the time I reach the garden, the trees have receded since my meeting with Helen, opening up the courtyard, which is filled with tables and chairs. The night sky above me tells me Iyana is already here, since otherwise, the midday sunlight would spear through the overhead branches.
I spy Iyana and Danika sitting at the far table nearest to the tree at the back. They gesture to me. I sense their quiet mood and catch the glances they throw each other as I approach.
I stop at the side of the table. “You want to know what’s going on?” I ask.
Iyana leans forward, gripping her empty shot glass. Her long, black hair shines where it lies across her shoulder.
She doesn’t bother with small talk, launching right into it. “We’ve only seen one side of Tristan—the rescuer. Fuck, I hardly even remember the night he brought me here. I was barely alive.” She stares down at her glass, her eyes filling with sudden tears, but she blinks them away. “All I remember is that he sat with me the whole night, holding my hand while Helen worked over me…”
I find my seat, my movements heavy. I’ve never seen Iyana cry. Other than my first day here, she has been a pillar of strength in my life.
“My former employer sent me into Tristan’s territory for a job that turned out to be a death trap,” she says. “Tristan was a protector when I needed one. But I get the very strong indicati
on that your relationship with him is different.”
I fold my hands over each other in my lap, where my friends can’t see me wring them. Iyana and Danika know a version of Tristan that I have never met or experienced. It’s like we could be talking about two completely different people. “My relationship with Tristan is complicated.”
Danika persists. “Trust me, we understand complicated. You don’t have to give us details, but we need to know if Tristan is the man we think he is.” She reaches across the table, her hazel eyes filled with concern. Her tousled light brown hair is longer than when I first arrived and brighter than the first day we met, the golden highlights catching the moonlight. “You’re our friend, Tessa. The prickliest, most defensive friend we’ve ever had—and that’s saying something—but you must know by now that we care and worry about you.”
My eyes suddenly fill with tears. I try to blink them away like Iyana did, but Danika’s declaration has stunned me. My relationships with these women means more to me than I’ve told them. Theirs are the only friendships I’ve experienced. Along with Iyana and Danika, Helen has cared for me, and even Ella is my quiet friend, giving me strength with her silence when we walk together each day from the library back to our room. I didn’t know what friendship looked or felt like until I came here.
My voice sticks in my throat, but I take a deep breath and remind myself to be calm. “You already know that I’m resistant to light magic and dark magic. Well… there are other aspects of my power that Tristan thinks he can use against the other alphas to destroy his enemies. On the night I came here, he fought to save my life, but he also made it very clear that I belong to him now.”
I start at the beginning and tell them everything—about my father, about my half-brother, Dawson, about Cody Griffin, and then the way Tristan brought me here. Iyana and Danika listen quietly. By the end, we’re nearly the only ones left in the garden. A few other women and Helen remain, finishing their lunch on the other side of the courtyard.
Iyana leans back in her chair, casting a questioning glance at Danika. “The ownership thing is alpha shifter bullshit, right?” she asks. “Vampires don’t have that culture—it’s more kill each other to rise to the top where I come from. So you’re going to need to explain it to me.”
