51

Zoe was asleep on the massive velvet couch beside my bed when I crawled into bed. I stayed awake with the events of the day replaying in my mind. Interviews, flashing cameras, screaming fans, helicopters, tigers, food, flirting, stress…it was all too much. The sheets were hot, I was uncomfortable, and I couldn’t get my mind to slow down.

Completely frustrated, I swung my legs out of bed and grabbed a thick robe from the closet. I wrapped it around myself, covering the silk pajamas they’d supplied me, and tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake Zoe as I went.

With no clue about where I was going, only the deep desire to wander, I padded down the hallway. Thankfully, it seemed all the crew had turned in for the night as well.

The house was enormous. Many of the doors were closed, and I didn’t try opening them, afraid of barging in on someone’s quarters. The last thing I wanted was to stumble into a room and see Von Thornton balls-deep in one of the young female production assistants. Or worse—sucking her neck.

Instead, I wandered through the house, checking all the open areas available to explore. I found a huge den with a massive skylight that looked up into the stars above. It contained an ornate pool table, a dartboard, a card table for poker, and a few other things that were standard in game rooms. The room had been done so stylishly, it didn’t look silly or childish.

The kitchens were dark, but I could see they had also been outfitted in a vintage style. The look was spotless and immaculate, as if transported from the 1950s. I had to admit it was very cool.

As I roamed the halls and rooms, I realized I wasn’t wandering aimlessly. I froze as I suddenly understood I was following a scent—a familiar one at that. Pine needles, sawdust, whiskey, and a note of leather. Wyatt.

I rounded the corner of what must have been the third or fourth living room or den I’d found. Standing there, looking grouchy, was the man himself.

“Damn, I waited long enough,” he whispered.

My eyes widened, and I glanced at my bracelet to make sure the light was still white. It was; the cameras were off. Realizing we weren’t being spied on, I stepped toward Wyatt, looked into those sexy eyes of his, and slapped the shit out of him.

“What the fuck?” he hissed, rubbing his cheek.

“You know what the fuck. And how the hell are you irritated you were waiting here? There’s no way you could’ve known I was gonna go stumbling around the house at night.”

Still rubbing his cheek, he said, “Yes, I did. You might have been terminated, but once a TO, always a TO. No operative in their right mind would be able to sleep in a weird place without getting the lay of the land. Plus, it doesn’t take a genius to know you’d have a hard time sleeping.” He leaned in and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Because you’ve finally understood the stupidity of your actions in coming here.”

I wanted to scream at him but had to keep my voice low. “I assure you, I am not regretting anything. I’m here to protect my pack from whatever war might be about to break out. With the gods as my witnesses, I’ll bring pride back to my pack.”

Wyatt snorted. “Yeah, speaking of pride, I can’t believe you wrestled that damned tiger shifter. A feral one, no less. It’s ridiculous.”

He was talking about the show, but something about the way he phrased it made me think he was mad at me. That, of course, made me even angrier. Like I’d asked to wrestle a feral shifter.

“Get over it, Wyatt. This is the game. Like it or not, we’re in it. If you can’t finally put your bossy-ass ways behind you, you’re gonna end up distracting me and getting me killed.”

It was almost like I’d slapped him. His face suddenly went gray. “I’m sorry.”

The words were quiet and hesitant, but there they were. I was shocked. Wyatt had apologized. My brain did a quick search. I couldn’t think of a single time he’d apologized for any of the shit he’d done. Almost everything had been “for my own good,” like he never trusted me to get out of a situation. The look on his face told me it wasn’t just lip service—he was serious.

“Hang on,” I said. There was no sarcasm in my voice. “Can you repeat that? I need to go get my cell phone and record it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Wyatt said, his apologetic tone vanishing. “What we need to worry about is keeping you safe. Keeping you alive.”

“Well, we also need to keep pretending that we don’t know each other,” I hissed, glancing around the hall again. “I’m pretty sure these guys won’t be happy if they found out you know me. They might turn on you and get you killed. Or turn on both of us, and then they’re burying two bodies in the Eleventh Pack lands.”

“Technically, I’m not a member of the pack, and you were on the shortlist for getting kicked out. They’ll probably bury us on the side of the road somewhere.”

“Oh my gods,” I groaned. “You are a little fucking ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

“Ease up, it was only a joke.”

“No time for jokes, Wyatt. That shit you pulled during the meet-and-greet? Talking about Kolton? That’s a surefire way to get someone to realize we’re connected. You’re best friends with my brother. That alone shows the connection.”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “We’re linked by more than Kolton.”

“Oh, right.” I put a hand to my head mockingly. “I forgot. There’s the fact that for the last five-ish years, you’ve been my nosy, bossy, pushy asshole of a co-worker. And you keep shoving your big fat nose into my pack’s official business and hanging around where you aren’t wanted. So, truly, the only reason we are connected is because of Kolton. Nothing else.”