by Everly Frost
Danika is the first to step into an entrance room that looks as homely and well-loved as the library back at Hidden House. The sound of female voices filters across the space as I move forward after Iyana steps out.
The female shifters in the distance don’t sound unhappy, even if there’s an edge of tension in the pitch of their speech, indicating a state of concern that’s natural if they’re worried about Carly and Becca.
In contrast, my tension increases. My senses are nearly billowing out of my control and I’m not sure how I’ll contain my wolf’s energy when I’m surrounded by so many supernaturals without the dulling power of Hidden House. Above all, I have to make sure I’m calm and in control, but right now, I feel anything but relaxed.
Before I can take another step, Jace turns to face me so that his big body blocks the exit, stopping me in my tracks.
Tristan’s arms snake around me from behind, holding me where I stand in the elevator.
“Not you, Tessa,” he whispers into my ear. In the same move, he deftly swipes a card across the scanner below the elevator buttons and presses the button for the twelfth floor.
Jace tips his head apologetically at me as he backsteps out of the elevator, making an obstacle of himself between me and my friends.
Iyana tries to leap around him, her face flushing with alarm just as the doors close. “Wait a second—!”
I freeze, my back pressed against Tristan’s chest, his left arm a firm restraint around my waist. My first instinct is to ram my elbow into his ribs and force him to release me, but I need to pick my battles.
He has plans for me.
I need to know what they are so I can find a way through them and keep myself alive. Fighting him every second will only lead to exhaustion. It won’t help me when the time comes that I really have to fight for my life.
On top of that… a quiet relief rises inside me. Now that the elevator doors have closed, the immediate flood of sensory input from the female shifters disappears, leaving me in control again.
Tristan seems surprised that I’ve remained in the circle of his arms. I turn my head slightly, catching the crease in his forehead as he studies me while I wait patiently for him to let me go.
He doesn’t.
I turn to face the elevator doors again, my heart sinking a little as I take a guess as to the real reason why he’s holding on to me.
I suspect that it’s not to restrain me.
“You need to be sure,” I say quietly, still facing the elevator doors. “Jace told you I’m in control of my power, but the problem is… if I’m really in control of it… that means I could be in control. Not you. And you might not even know.”
I tip my head back against his chest, meeting the hard planes of his upper body. I sense the wildness of his wolf, so foreign to me, and its questing to understand my wolf’s energy. Our wolves may as well be different species.
“That’s what you need, isn’t it?” I ask when he remains silent. “For me to manipulate your enemies? But that also means that you have to fight me. Every step of the way. To make sure I’m not also manipulating you. You need to make sure that you’re still… you.”
He neither confirms nor denies my theory, spinning me roughly as the elevator doors open. The movement is so quick that I barely catch sight of the penthouse suite beyond the elevator doors before I’m facing him again.
A dizzying whirl of furniture passes me by—lounge chairs, tables, desk, a tiled kitchen farther back, and another door that might lead to a bedroom.
Tristan propels me backward through the doors, gripping my waist with one arm, my wrist with his other hand like some sort of dangerous dance. Releasing my waist, he scoops up my duffel bag from the floor and brings it with us, dropping it beside me.
He pulls me to a stop several paces into the room, still holding me close. I settle against his chest, inhaling his subdued power.
My feet sink into plush carpet, the kind I’ll probably love walking on barefoot. Ceiling-to-floor paintings of a forest cover the wall on either side of the elevator, reminding me of my bedroom in Hidden House. What I can see so far of the color scheme around me is relaxing, comfortable. Maybe even cozy.
For a perilous second, Tristan’s head tips to mine, aiming slightly left toward my neck.
I read the challenge in the darkness of his eyes, the shadow across his lips. He wants to inhale my scent the same way he did on the night we met. He needs to test my control and test his resistance. He wants to challenge me to overpower him.
He lets me go just as suddenly as he took hold of me, releasing me without lowering his face to mine after all.
“I’m going to clean up,” he says. “There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself to anything you want.”
He strides away from me, leaving me with a sense of confusion.
At some point, I’m sure he’s going to have to test my ability to control my scent and my power, but apparently, not right now. As he walks away to the enormous-looking bedroom on the right, he reminds me of the first night I saw him, every muscle of his human body in perfect harmony with his wolf as he prowls into the next room.
Through the windows on the left, the sun is setting and the city lights are starting to shine like gems. Tristan flips the lights on as he leaves the room, illuminating the living area around me as well as the bedroom he’s entering. Through the open door, I can see a mammoth bed covered in tangled sheets, the door to a bathroom on the left, and discarded clothes on the floor. The living area is neat and tidy, but his bedroom is messy.
Moments later, the shower turns on.
Left in relative silence, I slip off my boots and place them neatly beside the elevator before I test the down button. Of course, nothing happens. The scanner below the button indicates I need the security key to make the elevator work.
I take in the positives. The carpet is amazing. I can sink my toes into it. The view—also amazing. Threat to personal safety? Seems low right now, but I guess I’ll wait and see.
Placing my duffel bag on the large leather lounge that looks like the best candidate for my bed, I cross to the kitchen to verify Tristan’s claim that it contains food.
It does. Along with half a bottle of red wine, a quarter of a mud cake, and a packet of strawberries. There’s even ice cream in the freezer, although the whole tub is untouched.
I’m confused. This is not the food of a bachelor. I’m suddenly a little worried that a woman is going to appear from some corner of the penthouse and ask me what the hell I’m doing here.
When nobody does, I forage around in the kitchen cupboards for a wine glass and pour myself a glass, the first alcohol I’ve touched in months, but I think a drink is called for. I take a chance and pour Tristan one too. I also cut two pieces of cake—one for me and one for him—before I grab a cushion from the lounge and find a spot on the floor beside the windows to curl up with my glass of wine and my slice of cake.
Watching the cars pass by below, I raise my focus to the horizon and imagine that I can see Hidden House from here.
I sense Tristan’s arrival in the lounge room before he speaks.
His presence is once again overwhelming. But at least my senses aren’t going haywire from all the sensory input that I would experience around other shifters.
“It looks peaceful from up here, doesn’t it?” Tristan asks, lowering himself onto the arm of the nearest lounge chair. He stretches out his legs. He’s once again naked from the waist up, wearing a clean pair of jeans. Droplets of water follow the chiseled lines of his muscular chest to his waist.
He seems even calmer than before and I wonder if being in his home environment relaxes him as much as being at Hidden House relaxed me.
“You’re trying to warn me that it’s not peaceful at all,” I say.
Tristan points. “Two blocks over that way is where Baxter and Dawson attacked. Right outside the library. In broad daylight. They dragged the girls into a van. Made sure the humans didn’t see anything.”<
br />
I chew on my lip as I process the violence of the attack. “How did you know it was happening?”
Tristan taps his thigh, the first sign of tension. “I have guards posted around the city. They call me if something’s wrong—but I don’t have enough pack members to cover every block.” His gaze lowers to mine. “In this case, I sensed Carly’s fear.”
I’m surprised. “You sensed she was in trouble?”
“I’m her alpha. I know when anyone in my pack is in danger. But knowing and acting are two different things. I was all the way north near the Fremont Bridge. I couldn’t get back here fast enough.”
The muscle in his jaw tenses. A shadow passes across his face, as if he’s reliving the moment when he sensed the danger—the girls’ pain and fear—and he couldn’t reach them in time. I’m familiar with that panic. I felt it when my father was killed.
“Is that what happened when Iyana and Danika were in trouble? You sensed it?”
Tristan sucks in a sharp breath. “The only good thing my father taught me is that anyone can be pack.” His focus becomes distant. “Everyone on this side of the river is part of my pack—the humans included. I look after my pack. If they’re in trouble, I help them.”
His eyes gleam with a menacing light. “If they step out of line and hurt someone, I take care of it.”
“You’re an alpha to all.” I try to read Tristan’s thoughts, to understand his plan for me. “How am I supposed to help you?”
“Tonight, you’re staying up here,” he says. “I’m giving you one night to get your bearings and get used to being out in the world again. Tomorrow, I’ll show you my city. After that… you’re coming out with me.”
I perk up. “On patrol?” I’d love to test out my new skills.
He shrugs. “Something like that.”
Before I can ask him exactly what he means, he seems to shake off his thoughts, lifts off the lounge, and strides away to the elevator as if he’s going to leave.
I jump to my feet, nearly sloshing wine across the carpet. “Wait, where are you going?”
He casts me a backward glance. “Out. You can sleep in my bed. I won’t be back tonight.”
“But I cut you a piece of cake.”
It’s possibly the most idiotic thing I could say to this dangerous man.
I bite my lip, wishing I could swallow it back.
He pauses in the act of swiping his security card, half-turning back to me with a wary expression, his gaze flicking to the glass of wine and the plate waiting on the far kitchen table.
He scowls before turning away again.
I blush. Of course he doesn’t want any fucking cake.
He swipes his security card, the elevator doors open, and he disappears inside it, bare feet and all.
“Um… but…”
The elevator doors close and I’m left talking to an empty room.
The penthouse is silent around me.
“Okay, then. He’s gone.” I place the wine glass down on the nearest coffee table more forcefully than necessary and begin to prowl, my wolf’s energy rising to meet my agitation.
First he separated me from Iyana and Danika and then he left me here. I have to find a way out of here somehow. I stomp to the elevator door and thump on the button multiple times, even though I’m sure it won’t get me anywhere.
Placing my hands on my hips, I survey the rest of the penthouse.
Maybe this is some sort of test.
There has to be a spare security card somewhere.
I blast through the kitchen first, churning through the obvious places like the drawers that inevitably accumulate a bunch of crap. Fruit bowl. Side of the cabinet where keys might hang.
Making my way into the bedroom, I inhale the scent of male shifter like a punch to my head.
Holy fuck.
I make it three steps before my senses go wild, too overwhelmed by Tristan’s lingering power to think straight. Judging by the tousled sheets and wayward pillows, Tristan is a light sleeper and hates making his bed.
His presence in this room is overpowering.
As if I could sleep in his bed at all, let alone tonight. I can’t even step foot in his room to find a damn security card.
It’ll be a shame when I need to shower or use the bathroom since the only bathroom I see is the one I need to access by crossing his bedroom. I’ll just have to run for it when that happens, but that’s a problem for future Tessa.
Assuming defeat, I rush out of his room and stomp toward the far window again, forcing myself to accept that I’m stuck here tonight.
Unless…
My wolf’s energy shivers inside me at my sudden thought.
I’ve never had a reason to try to send her through solid objects before, but I know she can do it. After all, she’s pure energy. She curled herself around the little girl, Becca, and calmed her. I’m sure my wolf can travel through inanimate objects too.
The biggest challenge will be whether or not I can make sure my wolf’s energy isn’t seen since she glows cobalt blue, but I’ve been practicing a skill that I’m keen to test. I didn’t tell Helen about it because I wasn’t sure what she would think.
Grabbing another cushion like I would in the garden at Hidden House, I flick off the light, allow my night vision to adjust, and then I place the cushion on the floor beside the window.
I sit cross-legged facing the city lights, close my eyes, and allow my wolf’s energy to rise and separate from me, taking in the world from her point of view.
She pads to the glass, turning back to me for a second, and her lips curl in a snarl of delight. My delight.
She backsteps through the glass, her color changing to pure raven black, the same as the darkness of the night sky. I can’t stop the smile growing on my lips while my eyes are closed. I’m not sure what Helen would think about my ability to drain the light from my wolf’s energy.
It’s time to test how far into the shadows I can go.
She is my dark wolf now.
Chapter Seventeen
City sounds billow across my wolf’s hearing, blowing through my own senses. Car horns, people speaking, walking by.
At my command, my wolf disintegrates into specks of dark light that swirl for a second before her energy plummets to the footpath far below.
The drop is dizzying, leaving my stomach behind me as I fully integrate with her energy.
She is me and I am her.
I may as well not be in Tristan’s penthouse anymore, but here, on the street, my paws padding across the wet pavement as I quickly back away from the streetlights and into the shadows at the side of the building to assess which way I should go. It must have rained at some point this evening, although I don’t remember the sound—maybe a quick rain shower while we were in the elevator.
I’m facing a wide open square that takes up the whole block opposite the Tower. White pillars are situated along each side and the courtyard is paved with red stones. It’s far too exposed for my wolf to go that way.
I’m about to turn away from it when I catch the elusive fiery notes of Tristan’s scent. He appears on the corner at my left, stops by a man who gives him a quick nod—a guard maybe? Definitely another wolf, judging by the musky smell of him—before Tristan crosses the street toward the square.
I follow Tristan’s line of sight to where Jace waits, leaning against one of the pillars.
A streetcar approaches on my right, and I lose sight of Tristan for a few seconds. Once the streetcar passes, I follow his scent across the street, keeping away from the light cast by the tall, gray lampposts. There are far too many passersby here for my comfort, but I’m counting on my darkness to make me blend in to the night, to become a mere dark spot in their human vision. As long as I stay out of the light, they shouldn’t be able to see me.
Finding shelter behind one of the pillars at the side of the square, I’m only ten paces away from Tristan and Jace and feeling very pleased that they haven’t sensed me.
&
nbsp; Helen taught me to conceal my power well.
I ignore the other input around me and focus only on them, listening for their conversation. Now that I’m experiencing the world solely from my wolf’s point of view, all of the sensory input is much easier to distinguish and process.
Jace pulls away from the pillar he was leaning against. “Where’s Tessa?” he asks, as if he expected to see me.
Tristan pulls to a stop. “Safe and sound on the twelfth floor back at the tower.”
Jace shakes his head at Tristan, his lips drawing back in a snarl. “You’re a fucking coward, Tristan.”
Tristan narrows his eyes with a growl. “I can’t be near her tonight, Jace. She’s too—” He snaps his mouth shut. His jaw clenches. He casts an angry glance around the courtyard without continuing.
Jace barrels into him, bumping shoulders like he would if he were in wolf form. “Too what, Tristan?”
“She’s too fucking beautiful.” Tristan shoves Jace away. “Too fucking vulnerable to be around an asshole like me tonight.”
I freeze at his descriptions of me, wary of how brutally honest he seems right now. At the same time, an unexpected heat builds in my chest, a shiver of warmth but also confusion, as I don’t know what to make of what he said about me.
“So you left her all alone?” Jace paces around Tristan, circling him like an alpha would circle prey. “Without her friends?”
Tristan barely reacts to Jace’s circling. “Helen told me Tessa wouldn’t be able to handle a crowd of wolves tonight. She needs time to adjust to the outside world after the protected environment at the house.”
“That had better be true.” Jace stops circling and gives Tristan a disappointed growl. “You’re a real fucker around her.”
Tristan’s composure changes, his head lowering, eyes narrowed, facing Jace’s accusation head on. “I can’t let her get close to me. You know that.”
Jace presses his lips together before he suddenly darts in and grips Tristan’s shoulders, a more human move. “You can’t push every woman away your whole life. You’ve got years before the three-headed wolf gets you—”
