Tristan let out a low growl, refusing to answer the question with words. He was more beast than man now, and the fact that his wolf had gone from condemning me to protecting my honor gave me the tiniest glimmer of hope.
But that hope was fading fast.
“They know about her, you realize,” Krane said, rubbing his jaw with his fingers as he glanced over at me. “The Seven know. They’ll be coming after you any day now, Tristan—the moment they think this thing between you is serious.”
“Why should they bother?” Tristan retorted, his voice painted with shades of rage I’d never heard from him. “Clearly you’re here to bring me down yourself.”
For a moment Krane went silent. I thought I detected a note of guilt flashing across his face, but no. The dragon shifter wasn’t capable of guilt. He was a psychopath.
“I’m here to issue you a warning,” Krane said. “You’d best watch your back. Better still, get rid of her. She’s dead weight.”
“I can look after myself,” Tristan growled in an inhuman voice that told me his wolf was very close to clawing its way through his flesh. “You need to leave, Krane. This is my territory. You don’t belong here. You never fucking did.”
“Tell me, is she your territory too?” Krane asked, nodding my way. “Because it seems to me you need to sell her to the highest bidder before she brings down your empire.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. How on earth would I bring down Tristan’s empire?
Actually, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Tristan shot me a quick look. “She can walk away anytime she wants,” he said. “I don’t own her like I own New York. But I did trust her not to keep secrets from me, and she betrayed me.”
He was talking about me like I was some kind of business asset.
For the first time, a dark anger welled up inside me. Suddenly I wanted to hurl accusations at him, to remind him of all the secrets that he insisted on keeping from me on a daily basis. What about the scars on his chest and back? What about the pain he’d suffered? What about how he felt about me? Why had he taken me all over the world but never told me once that he actually cared about me?
When was he going to tell me he loved me?
“You know what?” I snarled. “I’m really damn sorry I didn’t tell you, Tristan. I should have let you know I’d seen Krane. But you…”
“Sorry could have gotten you killed.” The feral tone that sliced through the air between us told me he wasn’t going to be reasonable. “I could have lost you, all because you were too stubborn to open up to me.”
“Yeah? Well, in the dictionary under ‘irony’ there’s a picture of that face of yours. Maybe you need to think about that for a few seconds before you accuse me of keeping my cards close to my chest.” I grabbed at my skirt, spinning on my heel to dart towards the living room.
Fuck this.
If I had to, I’d walk to Manhattan. All I knew was that I had to get the hell out of Estella’s house right now.
I pushed my way through the sea of bodies, faces turning away from me as I moved through the throng. They probably pity me, I thought, rage heating my flesh. Well, they shouldn’t. This is me being strong. This is me walking away from Tristan Wolfe.
“Ari!” called a voice when I was close to the front door.
Through hot tears I pivoted and looked around. Marcus’s blurry form was coming at me fast. He grabbed my hand and turned me towards the door, but not before I spotted Tristan’s massive wolf form standing at the other end of the sunken living room. All eyes were now fixed on him, waiting to see what the Alpha of New York would do next.
He was staring at me, those cold blue eyes of his devoid of any hint of emotion. His human side—his heart—was tucked deep away, deep in a vault, protected by a layer of wildness that numbed him.
I envied him that numbness.
“He’ll kill his brother,” I moaned as Marcus dragged me outside.
My housemate shook his head. “Killing a dragon shifter isn’t exactly an easy thing to do,” he said, pulling me towards a distant row of parked cars. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 13
“You okay?” Marcus asked as we clambered into his car. No doubt he’d figured out by now that I was trying my damnedest not to cry.
I nodded, though the tears in my eyes begged to differ. “Yes….no.”
“Aw, Ari…”
“Tell me something—why the hell do I feel bad?” I interrupted, my voice quivering. “How is it that I feel like I’m the guilty one here?”
“Do you want me to give you the honest answer, or the one you want to hear?” Marcus asked as he pulled out of his parking spot and accelerated down the long gravel driveway towards the road.
I glared at him. “You know perfectly well that I want to hear the nice answer. But tell me the damned truth if you insist.”
His grip tightened around the steering wheel. “Tristan cares about you. A lot. Anyone can see it. Everyone knows it. But he’s terrified that someone else will get to you, whether to hurt you, to seduce you, or for some other reason. I mean, the guy has an army of bird shifters watching over you on an hourly basis. I’m sure he has bears and wolves on the lookout, too. If Krane’s managed to get you alone, it proves to your lover that he’s failed to protect you. That his wolf has failed.”
“So? What does that even mean?” I asked miserably.
“It means he hates himself right now, because his brother had you pinned helplessly against a wall a few minutes ago. I promise you he’s more angry with himself than he is with you.”
“Yeah? If he’s angry with himself, why was he so awful to me back there?”
Marcus shot me a sideways glance. “You already know the answer to that, Ari. You’ve seen his wolf. You know what’s living inside the guy. He’s strong, but that wolf might be even stronger. His protective instinct means he’d kill to keep another man’s hands off you.”
“Are you saying I should forgive him?” I asked, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.
My housemate shook his head. “I’m saying it’s complicated. Besides, you’re not exactly blameless in all this. I told you to tell him about Krane.”
“Are you seriously I told you so-ing me right now?” Of course he was right, but it pissed me the hell off to be reminded of it.
“Fucking right I am. I warned you, and you didn’t listen.”
I thrust my head back against the headrest. “Fine. I deserve it,” I groaned. “I just wanted to be happy for a little while. Worry-free, you know? I wanted to feel normal for the first time in my stupid life. But shit keeps happening, and to be perfectly honest, I’m tired of it.”
“I know,” he said, reaching for my hand as he raced down the country road towards the highway. “I know. Listen…”
Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a shrill, piercing cry ringing out high above our heads somewhere in the sky. It was a blood-chilling, horrifying wail; something inhuman infiltrating the night.
I leaned forward to peer up through the windshield only to see the massive outline of a dragon soaring through the night sky. An angry ball of flame shot out in front of him, illuminating his silhouette as if to tell the world how pissed off he was right now.
“So,” said Marcus, “it seems that Tristan’s wolf has driven the mighty Krane away.”
I pressed my back into the seat and bit my lip, holding back my tears.
The fact was, Tristan’s wolf had driven me away, too.
* * *
When I was safely tucked into my bedroom and had changed into comfortable sweats and a ratty old t-shirt, I called Clarissa. It was an hour earlier in Chicago, so I figured she probably wasn’t in bed quite yet.
“Ari?” a stupefied voice answered after two rings. “I can’t believe I’m hearing from you for the second time in a week! Shouldn’t you be out on a date with Mr. Richie-Handsome-Pants tonight or something?”
Normally I would hav
e laughed at her characterization of Tristan. But I wasn’t sure I was capable of anything but tears tonight. Or that I ever would be again.
“I was on a date…sort of,” I replied, trying not to let my mind stray to my over-the-top gown or our sexual tryst in the garden. “Listen—does your offer still stand to come visit anytime? I really need to get out of here.”
After only the briefest pause, Clarissa said, “Of course. I could use some help with last-minute wedding advice, anyhow. But wait—why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Tristan and I had a pretty big fight,” I said. “More like huge, actually. I don’t think I can stand being in New York right now. I need to get away, and I’m not sure where else to…” My voice gave out on me before I could complete the sentence.
“Say no more. I get it. When will you be here?”
“I’ve looked up some flights. There’s one leaving from JFK in the early afternoon tomorrow. Give me your address and I’ll get a cab from the airport.”
When she’d given me all the information I needed, I thanked her and hung up. Afterwards, I sat staring into space on the edge of my bed for some indeterminate amount of time, my body hunched over in defeat. I couldn’t bear to look up, to acknowledge the world around me. Everything in my room reminded me of Tristan.
Everything in this damned city did.
The thought that kept beating its way through my head with cruel persistence was that I’d never see him again. That the man who’d been my lover yesterday now hated me. All because of one stupid decision on my part. All because of Krane.
I told myself again that Tristan had been ridiculous, unreasonable. That I deserved to be treated better. I tried to reason my way out of this awful downward spiral.
But the only conclusion I came to was that I deserved this punishment for the way I’d kept Krane’s presence a secret. I couldn’t fault Tristan for wanting me to be open with him.
I just wished he’d shown me the same courtesy.
“You okay?” said a deep voice from the direction of the hallway. “You’ve been sitting there for hours.”
I looked up to see Marcus leaning against the doorjamb.
I nodded my head unconvincingly. “I’ll live,” I said. “I’ve been through worse.”
“No you haven’t,” he said, striding in to perch himself on the bed next to me, close enough that I could lean on him for support.
“My father and sister died,” I said. “That was worse.”
“That was different,” Marcus corrected. I knew what he meant, but I wanted to pretend that I was stronger than this. That the loss of my lover wasn’t the end of my life. It wasn’t as if Tristan had died; we’d just gone our separate ways. One day I might even learn to wish him well. I’d realize that this was all for the best and look back on it with warmth.
But just now, all I felt was devastation.
“I know how it is, Ari. I know how strong a bond is with a shifter. It’s something I hope to feel myself, someday. It’s not an easy thing to let go of. Look—you don’t have to pretend, not with me.”
I pulled my miserable face to his, not caring anymore that my mascara was probably making me look like a raccoon. “It was easy enough for Tristan to let go of me,” I moaned. “He just shoved me away like I was garbage.”
He shook his head. “You’re wrong. Tristan is in hell right now. Trust me.” He slipped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, and I leaned my head against him.
“Part of me wants to think you’re right,” I said. “But part of me doesn’t want him to suffer. I love him, Marcus. I want him to be happy. Maybe I’m just not someone who can make him happy.”
“No one can make someone happy,” he said. “Only he can do that. He has some things to work out. You know he’s a complicated man. It’s not your job to un-complicate him.”
“Well, he’ll have to be complicated without me,” I said, pulling my head up and wiping my tears away. “I’m heading to Chicago tomorrow.”
Marcus paused for a second, like the news surprised him. “Good,” he said. “It’ll be good for you to get out of here for a bit.”
“I know.” I nodded, the lump rising up in my throat again at the thought of tearing myself so far away from my lover. “You’re a good friend,” I said.
“Yup,” sighed Marcus. “I’m the best.”
Chapter 14
I arrived in Chicago at four o’clock on Sunday afternoon, carry-on luggage in hand. I probably should have packed a lot more clothing, given that it was entirely possible that I was going to ask Clarissa and her fiancé James to adopt me and let me stay forever. But I also knew they had a wedding to plan, and my presence was most likely going to be a pain in their asses for the next few days.
I’d headed out to the taxi stand and was ready to queue up behind a dozen or so grumpy travelers when I heard my name ringing out from somewhere to my right.
“Ari!”
I spun around, looking for Clarissa’s face among the throngs of shuffling bodies. Before I knew what was happening, she came running at me and wrapped me up in a tight bear hug, before pulling back to examine me. “You haven’t slept,” she scolded.
I shook my head. “No, not so much.”
“Come on.” She grabbed my carry-on bag and started marching. “James has the car up ahead. We’ll get you home as fast as possible.”
I followed her to a fancy-looking black Mercedes. Once we’d dumped my things into the trunk I slid into the back seat.
“How are you, Ariana?” James asked in an awkward tone as he eyed me in the rear-view mirror. We didn’t know each other all that well; I’d only met him on a handful of occasions in New York. He’d always seemed like a pretty formal guy, polite and reserved. However, warm was not an adjective I would ever have used to describe him.
I wondered for a second if he was just being obtuse and careful in asking how I was. Then again, maybe Clarissa hadn’t filled him in on my disastrous emotional state. James didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who liked hearing about woman troubles.
“I’m…fine,” I said, quickly scanning my mind in search of a way to divert the path of the conversation. “How’s your new job?”
“Amazing.” The next half hour consisted of James explaining to me the intricacies of open-heart surgery, the beautiful, state-of-the-art facilities at his new hospital, and how excited he was to be performing a quadruple bypass the following day. Every now and then, Clarissa would throw me an apologetic look over her shoulder as if she was sorry I’d gotten her fiancé talking about his passion for slicing people open and poking around at their inner workings.
But I was grateful for it. Whether intentional or not, he’d managed to take my mind off Tristan, at least for a little. Funny how hearing about someone tearing open a person’s chest could actually be relaxing.
When we finally pulled up to their enormous house in the suburbs, I let out a low whistle. “Quite a place you’ve got here,” I said. It was a huge, immaculate-looking home, complete with two-car garage, giant windows and picture-perfect landscaping.
“Thanks!” said James. “We’re happy with it.”
“It’s not exactly a billionaire’s residence,” Clarissa said, “but it’ll do.”
“Have you been working on the garden?” I asked, hoping to shy away from the not-so-subtle reference to Tristan.
Clarissa laughed. “God, no. My years living in tiny apartments in New York mean everything I touch dies. I can’t even remember how to identify a weed. Which is my way of saying we hired gardeners. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll learn to do it myself.”
“Ah,” I said, offering up a weak smile.
As we walked up the front steps, a sudden pang of sadness hit me. I was about to head into the new, happy home of a couple who planned to stay together forever. A couple whose greatest difficulty consisted of deciding what sorts of perennials to plant in their front garden. They had everything they could possibly want or need. Their live
s were normal. They were damn near perfect.
I couldn’t help but think that no matter what happened, I would never be able to find what Clarissa and James had. Maybe I could have found something close to it with Tristan, but that ship had sailed.
The fact was, I’d probably be alone forever now. There was no way I could ever settle for some regular Joe, not after having had a taste of the sexy, powerful man. I wasn’t sure how I’d ever so much as look at a man again without feeling like my heart had been torn out by the fangs of a wolf.
When we were inside, James headed straight for his office at the back of the house and Clarissa guided me upstairs to a secluded bedroom at the end of the hall.
“This is your sanctuary as long as you want it,” she said. “Make yourself at home. Help yourself to food, coffee, whatever you need. If you want to be left alone, it’s all good. I get it. You’re not here for a social call.”
Wordlessly, I threw my arms around her neck, squeezing tight as I pressed my face into her shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now, Clar,” I said.
“Well, the good news is, you don’t have to even think about that,” she answered softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
When I’d pulled away, she guided me over to the bed and sat me down, perching herself next to me.
“What really happened with Tristan?” she asked, her tone direct.
I stared at her, wishing I could possibly explain, that I could even begin to tell her what Tristan was, what his brother was. The drama of last night, the madness of seeing a dragon flying through the night sky. But if I did, she’d sprint downstairs screaming, tell James that I’d gone insane, and the next thing I knew I’d be locked up in the psychiatric wing of his hospital.
“Tristan and I…have some trust issues,” I said. “Trust issues that we can’t seem to get past.”
“Ah. Is it because of all his exes?” she asked. Of course. The only Tristan Wolfe she really knew was the one the tabloids used to write about. The guy who dated supermodels and movie stars. Not the man I’d come to know.
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