The Enchanted: Council of Seven Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  The right thing to do was to tell Marco that she was also in love and tell Jordan the truth, but too much was at stake. What if Marco forbade her from seeing Jordan until after their wedding? After all, he had managed to stay away from his lover for years.

  No, Samantha thought. It will be impossible for us to stay away from one another. No matter how much we try. I can’t tell Marco.

  She realized the house of cards she had built was apt to come crumbling down, but she didn’t want to think about that. All she wanted was to relish the feeling of being in her lover’s arms, sneaking off with him during work hours and finding time to be in his apartment when Marco was away.

  Not that it’s sneaking around so much, Samantha thought ruefully. They had barely bothered to conceal their affair, though it didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. Perhaps it was because she and Marco did not have any mutual work friends, or maybe it was because she felt that the situation she shared with Jordan was protected in an impenetrable bubble.

  Either way, Jordan had been skating on thin ice at work, having been written up several times. It did not seem to faze him, either. Last Samantha had heard, he’d had a personal meeting with Landon Burke about his lack of work ethic, but he hadn’t said much about it.

  Jordan had been on a winning streak, his rating increasing with each match. With one more win, he would be competing in the semi-finals, and Samantha was feeling both elated and sickened by the idea. She had not been lying to him when she told him the thought of seeing him hurt churned her stomach, but she also knew how much he desired the title and how much Jordan deserved it.

  Outwardly, Samantha oozed with support and adoration. Inwardly, she wished that he would give it up and find something less dangerous.

  He’s a Lycan. He can’t be hurt, she reminded herself. She instantly thought about how many times she’d told herself the very same thing when she was being hit in her relationships. There were different ways of being hurt.

  All of these thoughts were going through her mind when Jordan walked into her office. She had been so occupied that she hadn’t noticed him until he cleared his throat.

  “Jordy,” she gasped, snapping him out of his reverie. He smiled at her. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “I just got here. I was just admiring the view.”

  She blushed and smiled. “You don’t have to flatter me anymore. You already have me.”

  He chuckled and sauntered further into the room. “I have some news.”

  “Oh!” She arched an eyebrow with interest. “What happened?” she asked, waving him forward. Jordan sat in the chair across from her desk.

  “I’m two fights away from the title fight,” he told her slowly. Her eyes lit up with happiness.

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. I am so proud of you!”

  He returned her smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes, and Samantha felt a stab of worry as she looked at him.

  “I need to focus on my training more than ever,” he continued, leaning forward on the desk, his large hands reaching for hers. Eagerly, she deposited her palm in his outstretched grasp.

  “Of course!” she agreed. “You’re so close to getting exactly what you want!” Jordan stared at her unspeaking for a moment. “What? What is it?”

  “You are on my mind every minute of every day. You are the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing I think about at night, and even there, it doesn’t stop. I dream about you. I can smell you when I’m in the mall. I see you on the street. You are always on my mind. We’re mates, Sam. You know it, and I know it.”

  Samantha returned his love filled gaze, and he could see that she felt exactly as he did.

  “I’m so in love with you, Samantha, and I don’t know if I can live without you.”

  Tears filled her lovely eyes, and she squeezed his hands in affection, not trusting her voice. “I feel exactly the same way, Jordy. I can’t believe that I have fallen so hard for you. Not a minute goes by that I don’t feel you. I think we have been kindred spirits for many lives.”

  Jordan stared at her for a long moment, and Samantha felt a heaviness fill her chest, anticipating his next words.

  “What are you trying to say, Jordan?” she breathed, her eyes widening to study his face.

  “Samantha, I can’t share you anymore. You need to make a decision. It’s either me or Marco. What we’re doing—this isn’t me. I’m not the guy who steals another man’s wife.”

  The shiny look of adoration faded from Samantha’s eyes, and she tensed, her jaw locking. “Jordan, I thought we had talked about this.”

  “You talked. And I listened. I’ve been listening to you for weeks. Your excuses are endless. Do you love me?” Jordan growled.

  “Yes! Yes, of course I love you!”

  “Then why is this so difficult? End it with Marco.”

  Oh, why are you doing this now? We’re so close to the end of this all! she wanted to scream at him, but she didn’t display her emotions on her face.

  “It’s not that simple, Jordan. I mean, we live together and—”

  Jordan pulled his hands away from her and rose to his feet, cutting her off midsentence. “People who live together separate all the time. You aren’t married. You don’t have children. What is keeping you from leaving him? Don’t you think we have a future together?”

  Panic began to overwhelm her, realizing he was serious. He was going to leave her.

  “Jordan, please try to understand.”

  “I think I do understand.” He was pacing the room now. “I think that I’ve been a fun plaything for you the entire time. I think that you never had any intention of leaving Marco, and you’ve led me along this entire time.”

  “No! It’s not like that, Jordan! Please don’t—”

  “Then what is it? I am going crazy. I can’t focus on my career when I think that you might be in Marco’s arms. I feel like you’re laughing at me. I catch you grinning when you think I’m not looking.”

  “Jordan…”

  “I can’t do this anymore, Samantha. You have to make a choice. Your wedding is in two weeks. Do you intend to go through with it?” Jordan stopped pacing, and they looked at one another.

  “Jordan…” She willed him to calm down. She could read the naked torment in his face.

  A knock on the door briefly announced the arrival of Marco, who sauntered in, uninvited. “Hey, babe. I was just in the neighborhood. Do you know your dumb receptionist wouldn’t let me in? Who does she think she is? She said you were in a meeting. You don’t look like you’re in a meeting to me.”

  Jordan and Samantha continued to stare at one another like Marco hadn’t walked in the door, the pulse between them intensifying.

  “Hello? Am I interrupting something? Should I come back?” Marco joked sarcastically. Jordan broke his gaze with Samantha and smiled coldly.

  “No. I was just leaving,” he said gruffly. “I just came to say goodbye.”

  “Oh? You going somewhere, friend?” Marco asked without any genuine interest.

  “Yeah. I’m done here,” Jordan muttered. He spun and walked out the door, his anger and disappointment hanging like a cloud over the room. A gasp of protest escaped Samantha’s mouth, but he was already gone.

  She had no doubt in her mind that, if she married Marco, Jordan would undoubtedly be done with her.

  8

  The wood and glass chalet was quaint and reminiscent of Switzerland. The weather had, of course, cooperated, casting a blanket of snow about the ski village as if it were a postcard painting.

  Samantha peered out the windows into the mountains, her heart as cold as the scenery outside. She could not stop the tears from filling her eyes, and for the first time since she had found Marco, she felt completely alone. Her long, slender fingers traced the pearls around her lovely neck, and she took a deep breath.

  A knock on the door startled her from her reverie. She swallowed deeply and cleared her throat. �
��Come in.”

  Jennifer wandered in, and Samantha already recognized signs of intoxication in her mother as she snidely looked around the room.

  “Well, isn’t this a giant waste of money,” she declared, taking in the suite with distain. Samantha knew her well enough to sense the envy in her tone.

  The cabin was a two-story open concept building with three bedrooms and two full bathrooms, once which contained a steam shower and jacuzzi tub. A spacious sunken living room was gently lit by a gas fireplace, and a full kitchen boasted stainless steel appliances. Through a patio door in the master bedroom, a bubbling hot tub waited to be utilized. If Samantha had been a fan of the cold, she would have comfortably lived there year-round, but she could not wait to escape the snow despite its sparkling beauty.

  “It’s what Marco wanted,” she said simply, turning to face her. Jennifer paused and looked at her daughter. For a moment, a split second, Samantha thought she saw a glint of admiration in her mother’s eyes.

  “Well?” she prompted. “How do I look?”

  Immediately, Jennifer’s aquamarine irises clouded over as she scornfully looked her from head to toe.

  “Well, I wouldn’t have gone that route,” she said, pointing. “But you’re lucky you have my coloring and pull it off.” In fact, all four of the Jagger sisters had Jennifer’s red hair and variation of her glimmering eyes—the Vulpes genetics.

  Disappointment filled Samantha at Jennifer’s words, even though she expected nothing less from her mother. Leave it to Mom to be critical of her oldest on her wedding day. She briefly considered letting Jennifer have it, unleashing all her frustrations upon her half-drunk mother, just to see how she might react, but before she could, a knock at the front door saved her from responding.

  “Come in!” Jennifer called out this time. A blond, handsome head poked through, and Samantha’s half-brother Aidan smiled broadly before showing the rest of his body, dressed dashingly in a tuxedo.

  The combination of demon and fox attributes made Aidan one of the most charming men Samantha had ever known in her life.

  “Sammy! You look radiant!” he cried, rushing forward to embrace her.

  She met his outstretched arms with fervor and relished his closeness. Despite their age difference, she had maintained a wonderful relationship with her two half-brothers. Maybe not as close as the bond she shared with her sisters, but close enough. Her regret was that she did not spend enough time with either Aidan or Shawn, since they still lived in Ohio. She stepped back to drink in the strapping man and beamed, her chilled heart warming slightly at the sight of the boy she had helped raise.

  “You look so handsome, Ade! Where is everyone else?” she asked, pulling her attention fully away from Jennifer before the negative emotions could overcome her again.

  “Shawn’s with Dad. They heard something about indoor golf or something equally boring. Don’t worry. They’ll be here. The girls are drowning their sorrows at the bar.”

  “Oh, of all the stupid—” Jennifer started to mutter, irritated at her son and husband. “I mean, they had to go now? Men are so goddamn inconsiderate. I’ll go get them. And your sisters, too.”

  “It’s fine. I only need Aidan here right now, anyway,” Samantha interrupted quickly. Jennifer had already sauntered off, having discovered the fully stocked bar between the living room and dining room. She began pouring herself a drink, her quest to collect the family apparently forsaken.

  “Mom, maybe you should save some for—” Aidan began, but Samantha pinched his arm and shook her head. If Jennifer was drinking, she was apt to keep to herself. She wouldn’t want to call attention to something she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing. Samantha was not sure she had enough strength to get through the night. If keeping Jennifer inebriated would help things along, she was all for it, and she refused to feel guilty about that. She had enough guilt for everything else.

  Aidan squeezed her hand reassuringly.

  “Well? What do you say?” he asked gently. Samantha forced a smile and met her brother’s eyes.

  “About what?” she asked. Aidan’s smile seemed to freeze on his face.

  “About getting a move on. Your groom awaits you.”

  Time slowed for a second, and she looked to her brother with a sense of helplessness. The truth about her fake marriage threatened to bubble from her lips.

  Tell him. Tell someone. Aidan always had so much more sense. He’ll know what to do about this. But with her usual quiet dignity, Samantha closed her lips and nodded stiffly. No sense in prolonging this. No time like the present, is there? I just need to do this and get it over with. Then, I can call Jordan and tell him why I had to do what I did and hope he forgives me.

  Slowly, she reached for the cloak draped along the back of the chaise.

  “Are you okay, sis?” Aidan asked quietly, his eyes shadowing as he seemed to sense her reservation.

  “Of course,” Samantha said, spinning to call out to her mother. “Mom? Are you ready?”

  Jennifer looked up, startled, and chugged back the rest of her vodka. She glanced at her watch. “Well, I’ll be damned! It’s time, isn’t it?”

  “Mom, did you just drink that vodka straight?” Samantha asked in spite of herself. She didn’t know why she was surprised.

  Aidan nodded, rolling his eyes, and held out his arm. Samantha turned to look back out the window at the night sky.

  The stars were twinkling, unhidden by clouds, and the moon was a throbbing crescent.

  Samantha blinked, the tears again threatening to spill, and her focus turned instead to the reflection in the glass. She saw herself in a long, pink gown, a string of white pearls around her neck. Her hair was intricately done above her head, intertwined with baby’s breath and beads. She draped the white faux fur cloak around her bare shoulders, covering her swelling cleavage, and took Aidan’s arm.

  “Wait,” he said, turning to her. Slowly, he lowered the veil over her eyes. “You’re a beautiful bride, sis.” Samantha forced a smile she did not feel and gently hugged Aidan. She followed her brother from the chalet and wondered if Jordan would think she made a beautiful bride, too.

  Just get through today, she told herself firmly, allowing her brother to escort her down the hill on his arm.

  She’d be a fool not to have noticed the immigration agents lingering among the guests.

  The place reeked of desperation and depression. From the red, ripped vinyl booths to the overpainted cougars draped over the bar, the joint was aptly named The Hole, because that was precisely what it was; a non-descript box on a busy street that boasted nothing but cheap alcohol and like-minded companionship in which to drown sorrows.

  It was a dive, even by Enchanted standards. There was nowhere Jordan could look that wasn’t fraught with debauchery and violence, but he didn’t bother to raise his head. There was nothing going on around him that interested him in anyway, after all.

  He was not sure how long he had been sitting consuming double gin and tonics, though his blurred vision gave him a rough drink estimate. He had been there every day that week, and the bartender and owner, a middle-aged witch named Sheila, had already started him a tab.

  I wonder if I should tell her I can’t afford to pay it, he thought but doused the idea with another cocktail. He’d have to find some way to come up with the money before Landon or Wren heard about this. Or Harley.

  Albeit, his trainer was the least of his worries in that pit. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen it—to avoid anything to do with the gym and his career.

  “Hey, baby, wanna date?” A drunken bleached blonde sauntered up to his table in a tube top and leather pants. She was a fairy and a prostitute, one who approached him every night, either forgetting that he constantly rejected her or not caring.

  “Get lost,” he mumbled.

  “What?” she screeched. “What did you say to me?”

  Jordan lumbered to his feet menacingly and glared at her.

  “Leave him alone, T
ammy!” Sheila yelled from across the bar. “His ex got married today.”

  The prostitute lost her angry expression and made a commiserating noise. “Aw, poor baby. You poor thing. You sure you don’t want some company?”

  “Get lost!” Jordan thundered again. “Leave me alone!”

  “Asshole,” she muttered, stalking away like a wounded animal. Jordan turned to Sheila, peering at her through blurry eyes.

  “Who told you my ex got married today?” he slurred. She came around the bar with another drink for him, and he flopped back into the booth, her jelly arms flapping at the movement.

  “It’s all you’ve been talkin’ ‘bout all week, baby,” Sheila told him sympathetically, placing the chipped glass before him. “Just drink it all away. That’s what I did when my good for nothin’ ex took off with my sister.”

  Jordan was flooded with a tidal wave of emotions as memories of Samantha washed over him. The first time he had seen her at work, wearing the red dress at the work party, naked by the window at his shoddy apartment, looking at the moon with a serene smile on her face.

  Then Marco whisking her off to Aspen for a winter wedding so she could happily become Mrs. Marco… Mrs. Marco what? He didn’t even know Marco’s last name. All he knew was that he had lost to a mortal with a bad attitude, one who Samantha claimed she didn’t even love.

  Jordan needed to find out where she was. He needed to get her back. She didn’t love Marco. She loved him. He needed to find her and beg her to come back to him. He’d made a big mistake walking away. It was physical pain, stabbing at him relentlessly, and Jordan didn’t know how to stop it.

  After leaving his job that day, he had ignored all phone calls and texts from Samantha, using his sorrow and anger in his training. Harley had been impressed at the fighter’s tenacity and dedication, not knowing from where the unexpected burst had come. Jordan was in line for the title fight, having successfully won all of his matches by landslides. The title match was not to be held until the new year, and Harley had suggested a break in training, not realizing what the lack of discipline would do to him.