14

6

L

izette walked without knowing exactly where she was going.

Scratch that. She sure as hell wasn’t going to Max’s suite. She stopped in the middle of a long hallway and turned in a slow circle, getting her bearings. To her right, a narrow staircase beckoned. It led to the second floor and her old bedroom.

What she really needed was a place to think. The longer she stood in the hallway, the greater the likelihood of someone spotting her, and right now she wasn’t in any shape to answer questions about school or her return to the Lodge.

And she definitely wasn’t ready to talk about Max.

She nodded and headed for the stairs. As she climbed, a sense of unreality descended over her. Everything in the Lodge looked the same, but she was different. As she approached her old room, a bolt of unease shot through her. What if it wasn’t her room anymore? The Lodge was huge, but there were hundreds of wolves in the pack. No one would have faulted Max for assigning it to someone else or turning it into a guest room.

She stopped outside the door, which still bore traces of the foam adhesive she used to tack a plastic “do not enter” sign on the main panel. Even as she rapped her knuckles on the wood, she knew the room was empty. She turned the knob, opened the door, and froze.

It was exactly as she left it. Her four-poster bed was made up with the dark purple comforter she bought after she spilled nail polish on her old one. Her bathrobe was missing, but its metal hook still hung over the top of the bathroom door. The television sat on the dresser beneath a poster of Jack and Rose embracing on the bow of the Titanic. And there was her old vanity table, scattered with lotion bottles and jars of perfume. She wandered over to it and picked up a bottle from the surface. A small ring of dust marked where someone had swiped a cloth around it. “Max, your cleaning crew’s been slacking,” she muttered.

She replaced the bottle and opened the vanity’s single long drawer. A slim photo album sat next to a notebook and a few loose pencils. Her breath hitched, and she pulled out the album and opened it. Even though she knew what to expect, she wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of memories that washed over her at the sight of the face staring up from the page.

For an entire summer the year she turned nineteen, she was certain Nathan Hallerton was her soul mate. With his ready smile and laid-back personality, Nathan was like an oasis in a storm of aggressive, competitive wolves. He’d listened to her, and unlike the other males her age, he hadn’t come with strings attached. They’d driven Dom crazy sneaking past patrols to make out under the stars.

Lizette had been prepared to do more.

Until Max put a stop to it.

With shaking hands, she closed the album and shoved it—and the memories— back in the drawer. Max made it very clear how he felt about that night—and about her. She shut the drawer with a little too much force. Glass bottles trembled and tinkled against each other. Another pulse of pain fired behind her eyes.

Dammit. The last thing she needed was a migraine.

She crossed to one of the room’s two windows and pulled back the drapes. The forest stretched before her like impressionist art, the trees’ canopy a blurry mix of red and gold fire. Her fingers curled against the heavy drapery fabric at the thought of sinking her claws into the black soil. She leaned forward and pressed her aching head against the cool glass. Chilled air from the outside seeped through the window, numbing the ache in her head. She closed her eyes as the piercing pain dulled to a low throb.

All those years ago in the limo, Max had told her they were the same, but it wasn’t entirely true. He was the Alpha, and in their world it meant he was the beating heart of the pack. Werewolves didn’t use the word king, but he wielded the same kind of power.

Absolute authority.

As a rule, kings took little notice of orphans—especially ones raised to believe they were human.

“He noticed you,” a small voice in her head reminded her. She tightened her grip on the curtains. After Max brought her to the Lodge, he dumped her into the care of tutors and trainers, and she rarely caught more than the occasional glimpse of the Alpha.

Aside from transforming into a four-legged beast every now and then, she grew up like any other teenage girl. She loved pop singers. She obsessed over reality television. She scribbled bad poetry in her diary. She sneaked out of the Lodge with her boyfriend.

She rolled her forehead against the window until the vanity table came into view, its drawer like a firm, flat mouth. Don’t think about that night. But she’d let the memories out, and now they swirled around her. Nathan’s face rose in her mind.

“I have a surprise for you,” she told him that night. She pulled him toward the tree line as dusk had descended over the gorge.

His warm brown eyes had lit up. “What is it?”

“I can’t give it to you here.”

“What…” He’d glanced back at the Lodge. “What are you doing?”

She’d tugged him deeper into the forest. “Quiet. Dom has patrols everywhere. Watch your feet. They’ll hear you.”

She heard his longing when he replied, “I know. I wish I could Turn.”

She rounded on him and put a finger to his lips. “I don’t care about that. Come on.”

Lizette led him to their secret place—a clearing deep on the edge of the forest. A full moon hung high overhead, its soft light limning the trees in silver. She faced him and pulled her shirt off over her head.

“Lizette.” Confusion flashed over his features. “You know I can’t Turn—”

“I’m not Turning.” She unhooked her bra and dropped it on the ground.

Understanding crept across his face. He stared at her chest, desire burning in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am, Nathan. I love you.”

A soft smile touched his mouth, and he crossed the clearing and took her in his arms.

Gentle. The thought drifted to the top of her brain and floated there. Nathan was so gentle.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

“You won’t.” Her animal side had seen to that. The same instincts that drove her to hunt and run compelled her to find and secure a mate. Lust rode her hard, and she’d amassed a collection of toys that helped ease the ache. Abruptly, she realized Nathan might not experience the same intense drive. Latents weren’t ruled by their wolves. Tenderness swamped her, and she cupped his jaw. “You won’t, Nathan.”

He shed his clothes, then lowered her to the ground, his mouth on hers. She stroked her palms down his back to his ass and urged his hips against hers.

He pulled back, his forehead creased in a frown. “Lizette. I want to, I do. I just want to make sure—”

“I told you. I’m sure.” Annoyance buzzed in her brain. Why doesn’t he just get on with it?

Whatever he might have said next was cut off by the most bone-chilling sound she’d ever heard. A low, menacing growl flooded the clearing, running up and down the register like the track of a horror film.

Nathan rolled off her, and they both sprang to their feet. One by one, pairs of narrowed blue eyes appeared in the darkness. Lizette stepped in front of Nathan as a massive black wolf prowled into the clearing and bared his teeth. Behind him at least four Hunters watched from the shadows.

Nathan scrambled around Lizette and rushed toward Max, his hands outstretched. “Alpha—”

Mistake! Lizette’s heart leaped into her throat. “Nathan, don’t!”

Max swiped a huge paw across Nathan’s chest, flinging him away like a gnat. Nathan’s body flew across the clearing and slammed into a tree. He slumped to the ground, head lolling.

Lizette screamed and rushed toward him, but a strong hand gripped her arm and jerked her to a stop. Max pulled her around to face him. “Don’t move.”

“How d-did you change… You Turned…” Her teeth chattered. She leaned sideways against his hold, struggling to see Nathan.

“I said… Don’t. Move.” He grated each word out like it hurt him to speak.

She swiped her tongue over her incisors, waiting for her wolf to recognize the threat posed by the angry male staring her down.

Nothing. Her wolf was silent.

She dared a look at his face and caught her breath. His eyes blazed wolf blue. The same penetrating stare that had fascinated her in the limo focused on her now—only this time there was something else behind it. His glowing gaze moved down her face…her neck…her chest. Heat bloomed across her cheeks as she remembered she was naked.

And Max was naked, too. His broad shoulders blocked out everything else, the thick ropes of muscle touched by moonlight. Beneath a flat stomach rippling with hard abs, his shaft hung heavy against a muscular thigh, the crown dotted with semen.

Her breath snagged in her chest. He wasn’t angry…he was aroused. Powerfully so.

Max’s low growl vibrated the ground. Tremors shot up her legs to her sex. Her nipples tightened.

Lizette’s breaths were hot against the window. She squeezed her eyes shut. The scar on her nape burned.