“Eve, what happened?” Anderson demands from the doorway.
I just shake my head, tossing all my clothes into the small bag. Fuck. My gun is still in dad’s office from when we cleared out the apartment of anything incriminating.
Whatever. I can always get a new one.
“Eve,” Anderson says, a little louder. He puts a firm hand on my shoulder, and I spin around to snarl at him. It may be late enough for me to have transformed back, but the wolf inside me is near the surface, ready to attack. Anderson doesn’t even flinch. “You need to talk to us.” His hand slides down my arm. I had to steal clothes when I shifted back, for which I’m totally ashamed.
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m leaving. What I said before still stands. I need you to take care of everyone.” Tears well up in my eyes. Why is it so much easier to cry now that I’ve done it once? I hate it, and I swipe them away with the back of my hand. I’m not even sad. I’m angry. Angry at myself, angry at Natasha, angry at the world for being so fucking difficult.
“So that’s it?” Freya asks. Her voice is distant, and she doesn’t look at me. She’s leaning against the wall out in the hallway. “We’re all disposable, I guess. You don’t care about us, but we don’t have a chance to move on because you took us as your fucking mates.”
This stops me in my tracks. I don’t care about them? Is that what they think? I watch her, then look at Thompson, then Anderson. His eyes are filled with hurt.
It is. I’ve made them all think this about me.
“Of course I care about you,” I say in a rush of air as all the fight leaves me. “That’s why I have to go.” My voice is raw, which I didn’t expect despite the tears.
“If you leave, the pack falls apart,” Freya says. Her voice turns more stern, and her eyes cut me deep into my soul. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me, but I did it to myself. I made every one of my mates think that they were nothing more than props.
“Freya,” I say, and Anderson releases me. I walk to her, but she won’t make eye contact with me. My heart breaks just a little. This is my fault. Everything is my fault. “I love you,” I say. “I love all of you.” Saying it out loud loosens something, and a sense of rightness settles in me. If you could bottle this feeling, it would be one hell of a drug.
“Then don’t leave,” Thompson says. “We can figure it out. Together.”
I’m so fucking tempted. When he puts his hands on my waist, I tilt my head, and his lips press against my neck. I could have this forever.
But how long will forever be if Natasha comes for all of us? It would be better if I disappeared. I’m the only one she has anything on, and the others can have plausible deniability if I don’t tell them where I’m going. Hell, even I don’t know where I’m going yet.
“I can’t,” I say, my voice hoarse. Why can’t they understand that this is to protect them? I drag myself out of Thompson’s arms, and it’s like I’m ripping my heart out of my own chest. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. My heart won’t survive it.
A knock sounds at my door, and everyone freezes.
This is it, then.
It’s the end.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Natasha
“Eve, I know you’re here,” I call through the locked door. “Just let me in. I’m not even gonna try to arrest you.” My handcuffs are still at work, after all.
The door opens, and Eve is standing there, clearly exhausted. Her significant others stand behind her, and they look just as miserable.
“What do you want?” Eve asks, but she doesn’t let me in.
I take a deep breath. “I want in,” I say.
My words take a moment for her to process. When they do, she lets out a humorless laugh. “What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?”
Embarrassment flushes my cheeks. I’m not really sure what I mean. I don’t particularly want to be a werewolf, but I’m also sick of the status quo. Something major needs to change, and it needs to happen now. “I deleted the footage,” I say. “Nobody else will know.”
“What about the douchebag I bit?” she spits back.
I shrug. “He’ll think it was a hallucination. Or, at the very least, everyone else will.”
She clenches her jaw, her teeth grinding. “Why should I believe you?”
I shrug. “I guess you shouldn’t. But I’m telling you right now, I want in. I want to help people, and clearly, my job isn’t doing that.”
Eve considers me for a long moment, watching for any sign I might waver. I’m determined not to do so. “I don’t even know what you want from me.”
I shake my head. “I don’t either. But there are a few things I know. First, there’s a kid with a mountain of hospital bills because of my coworker. Second, you have a shit ton of stolen stuff. Third…” I look past her at the others. The ones she protected by turning herself in. I let out a sigh. “You care about people. Like, really care. And I think you could do a lot of good.”
Her expression softens a single degree, but she doesn’t give in. “Didn’t you say I’m a criminal? A murderer?”
I tilt my head. “Well, there’s no evidence of any of that. According to the department, you were never even brought in.”
My heart trips over itself. I could very well be trapping myself in a den of wolves—literally—but I want so desperately for her to agree.
After she refuses to reply, I have to ask, “Is John gonna turn into a werewolf? Because I think that would be a very bad situation for a lot of people. You saw how he is.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not how it works.” After a moment of consideration, she says, “I’ll have to discuss the rest with my mates.”
Mates. That’s the word my mind has been searching for. It should sound absurd, but instead, it feels right. Natural. And, if they’re werewolves, it makes sense. Wolves mate for life, so I can’t imagine what kind of pain she must have gone through by turning herself in.
The door closes, and I wait. There’s hushed murmuring inside, but I can’t make out any of their words.
My hands tremble. Are they just planning a way to kill me? Or maybe they’ll erase my memories or do some other magical thing. I’m not really sure how it all works. I just know I would rather be on the inside of it all.
When the door opens again, my heart leaps into my throat.
“Fine,” Eve says. “On one condition.”
My shoulders tense. “I don’t want to be a werewolf. No offense, but it just doesn’t seem like my thing.”
Eve lets out a single burst of laughter, and I blush again. So I guess that was never really an option.
She shakes her head. “No, nothing like that.” She glances back at her mates, and they each give her a little nod. Then, she looks back at me. “If I’m supposed to trust you, then you’ll have to become my mate.”
Woah. What?
I take a step back. “Your…” The word doesn’t dare exit my mouth. It wouldn’t sound right. How am I supposed to make this type of decision? I barely even know her. “Would we have to sleep together?”
Freya snickers behind her, and I shrink a little. I really don’t know a single thing about their world, yet here I am, demanding to be allowed into it.
“No, that’s not a requirement,” Eve says, more curt than Freya. “It’s just a simple bite.”
I swallow. That doesn’t sound so bad. I mean, if we don’t have to be a couple, it will barely affect me at all. I can take a little bite in order to help people, can’t I?
“Alright,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Eve gives a tight smile. “This is going to hurt,” she says. Without any further preamble, she laces her fingers through my hair, her lips brushing my throat with electricity for an instant. I reconsider.
Before I can change my mind, she bites down.
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About the Author
Alexis Pierce is a small-town writer with a big-city heart. She travels the world full time in search of a place to call home, and, when she's not writing about sexy supernatural creatures, can be found spending time with her husband and dogs.
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