Savannah

I hurried down the hall, heart pounding, and tried to put just a little distance between us. Going to Eclipse had been a mistake. I should have just gone home and called until Jaxson picked up.

Clearly, no part of my mind worked around him. One second, he infuriated me, and the next, I was weak in the knees. Delusional.

The moment Jaxson had placed his hand on the door and locked me in, a treacherous shiver snaked down my spine. Some deranged, traitorous part of my soul had wanted him to keep me there—hell, to pin me against the wall and never let me leave.

If that didn’t go against every fiber of my being, and if things weren’t so complicated between us, then maybe I would have let him. Even for a moment.

God knew I wanted it.

But things were complicated. And I wasn’t about to face him and the apparent mate bond we shared—not when I could barely face my new four-legged reality.

I didn’t even know how I’d become a werewolf, and until I got answers about that, there wasn’t much more I could face.

Eclipse was bustling, but the crowd parted for us. Sam slid a cocktail across the bar to one of Jaxson’s visitors and gave me a quick smile before turning her focus back on the men from the meeting.

I cringed at how all that had played out and felt my neck flush. Why did I always end up with one foot in my mouth?

Sam was so composed, whether she was in a gunfight or at the center of a whirlwind of drinks and gossip. I was jealous. I could barely keep my head screwed on straight.

As we pushed toward the door of the bar, Jaxson pressed his hand to my lower back. It was soft—just a light touch gently guiding me through the crowd—but even so, it sent a torrent of heat rushing along my skin.

Had he touched me like that in his office, I would have melted. And even though I was frustrated out of my mind and had bikers to worry about as well as the alpha, my thoughts were entirely focused on the way his lips tasted.

I wanted a bite of cake.

You want the whole cake, my wolf remarked.

Fair enough.

We stepped out onto the street, the cool night air cleared my head, and I moved away from him. I could tell from the dark clouds that had consumed his features that Jaxson was disappointed I wasn’t staying. But just because I was a werewolf now and we had some kind of fated bond didn’t mean I would automatically pack up my life and move in with him. I had too much to sort out and needed space and time.

As I walked up to the Fury, Jaxson stilled, his gaze taking in the loose bumper and the spare tire. “What happened to your car?”

The damage looked a lot worse now in the lights of the city than it had in the shadows of the dark highway. My stomach twisted. My poor baby.

I gave him an uncertain smile. “Did I mention I rammed a couple bikers before one of them shot my tire out?”

Jaxson’s appearance turned lethal. Darkness flooded his face as his muscles tensed. The man that had swum with me in the pond in the Dreamlands was gone, replaced by a killer. His signature was clamped down, but everyone around us could feel the change. Conversations stilled.

No one looked our way.

Jaxson stepped toward me, his posture rigid and radiating with fury. “No. You didn’t think that part was important? That someone shot at you?”

Tearing my eyes from the hard contours of his chest, I looked up at him and shrugged. “I’m getting used to it.”

But I wasn’t, and I knew he could smell the lie.

Silence stretched between us as his anger hung in the air. I knew he would kill for me, and I hated how hot that felt, even as the terror of him trickled along my spine.

His wolf was so near the surface that I could see it struggling beneath the brilliant gold of his eyes. A part of me wanted it to come out, to see him off his tight leash.

Though the muscles in his jaw remained taut, the wave of rage began to subside. “Bring your car to Savage Body tomorrow. I’ll have it fixed.”

More dependency. More obligations.

I slipped around him and opened the car door. “I’ve already got a mechanic.”

“You sure you have the money for that?” Jaxson gripped the top of my door, and I glared at him even as my stomach dropped.

I was dead broke, and he knew it.

It was beyond embarrassing, and I couldn’t help but feel inadequate standing next to him—a man who acted like he owned all or at least part of Dockside. Who wore designer suits and bought new trucks on a whim.

I had a few hundred bucks. Several bucks less after taking the toll road home.

“I don’t take handouts,” I said sharply.

He studied me for a moment, searching, and then his dark expression softened ever so slightly. “I wasn’t offering a handout. I need help. I’ll fix your car, and you can pay me back by working the bar with Sam this weekend. We’ve got a couple big gigs, and we’re shorthanded.”

I narrowed my eyes at Jaxson, searching for any hidden catch. He was offering me a way out. I wanted to shut him down and keep my pride, but I was broke, not stupid.

And hell, I was a waitress, for fuck’s sake. I could tend bar. “Fine. And I’ll pay for the rest once I have a job.”

Jaxson nodded, and with that, I slipped into the Fury and pulled my door closed. I started the car, and Jaxson leaned down and rapped his knuckles on my window.

There was something about the way the massive man bent just a little to see me that sent the butterflies in my stomach fluttering like I was a teenage girl. Damn, Savannah, get a freaking grip.

I rolled down the window. “Yes?”

“Tony will escort you home and keep an eye on things,” he said as headlights pulled up behind me. I could make out Tony and two others inside a black SUV. When the hell had he arranged that?

I started to object, but Jaxson cut me off, his voice commanding obedience. “If I can’t have my eyes on you, then this is the alternative. It’s non-negotiable.”

He turned and left, and I slumped back in my seat, watching him depart down the dark street. Was it too late to change my mind?

Sighing, I pulled out and headed back to the Indies with three werewolf bodyguards in tow. I prayed they wouldn’t be spotted by any trigger-happy sorcerers and that they’d leave once they’d escorted me home, but I knew that was asking for too much.

My phone buzzed, and I eagerly glanced at the screen before answering. Not Jaxson. Damn. “Hi, Aunt Laurel.”

“Hi, honey. Sorry I missed your call earlier. Pete and I are driving through Nebraska now and should be home the day after tomorrow. We have a lot to talk about.” She emphasized that last line, worry evident in her voice.

“Right, I’m eager to hear more about my mom. You said we could talk more about her and Dad when you got home.”

The silent pause on the other end of the line ratcheted up my nerves.

“Of course. We can talk about all of that, too, at some point. Is everything all right?” my aunt asked.

“Yup. Nothing to worry about. See you both Saturday.” I hung up, feeling a sudden pang of deceit in my chest. Why was my aunt so evasive when it came to my mom?

But you know why, don’t you?

She’d said we had a lot to talk about, which meant only one thing: she’d dredged up something on Dragan.

Dread mixed with an overwhelming sense of betrayal as I pulled into the driveway of my aunt and uncle’s house. Casey’s car was parked in the garage. “Great.”

I climbed out of the Fury and glanced down the street to where Tony had parked. I waved my hand, dismissing him, but he didn’t leave.

On the bright side, I wouldn’t have to worry about bikers tonight.

The front door slammed closed behind me, and I slid the four locks into place. At first, I’d thought they were overkill, but now?

I headed into the kitchen and grabbed a pop from the fridge. As I was chugging the sugary goodness, Casey strolled in wearing a towel—and only a towel—wrapped around his waist.

“Your car sounded like a screeching bat when you pulled in. What the hell happened? Run over a werewolf or something?”

I choked, and pop shot out of my nose. “Why are you naked?”

Casey shot me a devilish grin. “I’ve got company, so keep it down. But first, spill the beans. What happened to the Fury?”

Ugh, now I was never going to sleep.

I took a long pull on my Coke. “Three werewolf bikers wanted to have a chat.”

Casey’s eyes bugged out. “Shit. Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious.”

My cousin tipped his head back and laughed, causing his towel to slip loose. “You’re like a shitstorm magnet!”

I snapped my head to the right to avert my eyes lest they burn out. “Thanks for your genius insight. Now if you don’t mind, please put some clothes on, and let me have a little peace and quiet.”

“I want to hear all of the juicy details, but I’ve got a lady friend waiting for me upstairs. Check you later.” My cousin winked and sauntered out of the kitchen.

I slumped onto a stool and leaned on the kitchen island, rubbing my sore eyes. I was exhausted, but between Casey’s lovemaking and the events of the day, I knew sleep was far off.

With a weary groan, I finally gathered the strength to stand and amble down the hall. Maybe a hot bath would help. But as I began climbing the stairs, my eye caught on the door to Aunt Laurel’s study. It was slightly ajar.

I paused mid-step. Snooping was rude, but so was withholding information, and Aunt Laurel had been continuously dodging my questions about my mother. There was no way I could tell her what had happened to me, and I needed information.

Moving quietly, I sneaked toward the study. My heart leapt as several thumps sounded from the second floor, followed by an explosion and a crash. And then laughter.

What the hell were they even trying to do? My cousin was a lunatic, but at least I could be sure he was distracted.

I slunk into the study and gently shut the door behind me. I’d been in there a few times, and while it wasn’t explicitly off limits, I’d always been invited in by my aunt.

Guilt and shame settled over me, and yet, I snooped the shit out of the place.

I started with my aunt’s oak writing desk, which was filled with recipe books and spells scribbled on loose sheets. I shuffled through the papers but found nothing of interest. When I reached into the back of the top drawer, however, my fingers brushed over a cold metal object.

My heart fluttered as I stared down at the tiny brass skeleton key in my hand. It didn’t fit in any of the keyholes in the desk, which were all unlocked. I scanned the room, and my gaze settled on the antique filing cabinet in the corner.

The key fit perfectly into the top drawer, and with a click, it slid open. Manila folders with printed labels filled the space. I flipped through them, not recognizing any of the names, until I spotted one that had grown far too familiar of late—Laurent.

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