"What happened?" I asked.
There was a long pause and I felt the change in his demeanor as he worked to expel himself of the negative energy he'd brought with him.
"It doesn't matter now. When I'm with you, none of that matters," he replied.
Tristan's fingers spread across my shoulders and then glided up the back of my neck. He moved my hair aside. When his lips connected with my nape, pressing a single kiss on my skin, I gasped and nearly fell back into his embrace.
I couldn't succumb. Not now.
I turned swiftly and my gaze landed on his face. He was exceptionally handsome. With thick lashes that hooded his troubled stare. The moment I first gazed upon him—the moment we met—I had noticed something about him. Something about his demeanor. It felt there were two sides of Tristan. Maybe even three. And as I looked into his eyes now, I saw it again. His eyes often changed colors. Sometimes they were deep and dark in color. Almost the same mahogany color as his wolf's fur and as his hair. Sometimes they were the color of a translucent jade. And sometimes, they were a mix of the two…like now. This feature instantly labeled him different—not entirely human. All who gazed upon him knew that something was off about him.
It didn't take me long to understand why Tristan was revered as the silent leader, the absent business partner. His wolf shifter nature was still very much a secret, even among most of the men and women who worked with him in that organization. COBRA was what they called it. One day, he'd tell me everything. That's what he'd promised me anyway. Unbeknownst to him, I excelled at research. The kind that didn't involve the use of my gifts. And what I didn't know, I knew he'd tell me…one day. All I had to do was ask. But did I really want to know his lifestyle? I'd heard the rumors about him, but that's just what they were—rumors that could be confirmed or denied. I didn't need to believe the gossip about Tristan when I already knew what kind of man he was and the things he'd done to get in the position he was in today.
I knew one thing at this moment. I wanted him like my life depended on it.
"Let me guess…my brother told you where to find me," I commented.
He grinned. "No. I followed my instincts."
"Of course you did."
His eyes moved away from my face to gaze at my evening attire. A form-fitting A-line dress that stopped just below the knees. Even in my heels, I still wasn't tall enough to match his height of 6'2".
"You're lovely in a dress. In anything really. And I'd bet my life that you're even more beautiful in nothing at all," he commented.
A heated blush washed across my face, spreading down my chest and overwhelming my core. This was what being in Tristan's presence did to me. He knew I was attracted to him, yet still, he taunted me. Only a few years ago when I was just fifteen, he promised me that he'd never force the mating on me. When it was time and when I wanted, I would go to him. That's the promise we made to each other when we first discovered we were fated to be together.
"Well, you know me. I prefer jeans any day of the week," I told him. "I only wear one brand. I don't know how you do it. You're always dressed to the "T". I couldn't keep up with all the designer labels on the market if someone paid me to do it."
He made a show of adjusting his tie and collar. "I pay someone to do it for me."
"Well, they have my compliments. They're good at making you look innocent in those purple labels, diamond watches, and that belt you always wear." My gaze dropped below to admire the belt. It was made of the finest gold. The badge on it was large and was ingrained with his family crest.
"You mean this belt. The Belt?" He took my hand and placed it on the hard leather and gold belt around his waist.
"Yeah, this belt." I touched the ruby stone in the center and felt his breath fan across my forehead. "What does the ruby signify?"
"Ruby is my birthstone. The gem is from the mines in Burma. My great-grandfather had the badge made for me and he gave it to me on my eighth birthday. The Senior, not the Junior."
"Yes, I knew of your great-grandfather, Thibaud Arnou Sr. It's beautiful. I had never seen anything like it before I saw yours. But there's more to you than gold and rubies. When the suit and this belt comes off…"
He raised an eyebrow. "When the suit and the belt come off…go on…"
I traced one of the buttons on his dress shirt, noting the audible gasp when I pressed firmly on his chest. "You're all animal underneath. Feared. Misunderstood. Lonely."
I picked up his right hand, turned his palm over, and our gazes locked. I held my hand poised over his palm waiting for his permission.
"Go on," he urged.
The moment my fingertips touched his palm, the connection between us strengthened, and I continued.
"You trusted once. Easily. But then someone betrayed your trust." I let my magic escape as I worked along the delicate veins on the exposed portion of the inside of his wrist. "There's blood. A father's blood. It's everywhere. The blood of an Alpha. The son becomes his father. He's no longer a boy. He's their leader now. The Pack evolves. The leader yearns for more. He yearns for what was promised." The images came just as quick as I could interpret them. "There's an elder…'wolves don't live on machines' he says. He's nearing the end of his life. Something or someone holds him here, in this world. The boy is now a man, but he has no family except for those who kill for him, lie for him, steal for him. There will be more blood on his hands. In the end, the betrayal will be epic."
He took his hand away from me and took a couple steps back. His chest rose and fell rapidly. A look of astonishment and despair crossed his face. The bright jade color in his eyes had suddenly gone mute until only the deep brown hues remained.
"I'm sorry…" I breathed.
"No, you did nothing wrong." He closed the gap between us again and took my hands. "It's just that you're very skilled in dragging out the truth. I don't think you know how powerful you are."
I frowned. "It's a gift and it's a curse, really. People think they want to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth until they actually know it and it's too much for them to handle."
"Unfortunately, that's very true," he agreed.
I dropped my arms to my side and looked downward. "Still want me?"
He lifted my chin gently with his fingers so that our gazes met, and then pushed a few strands of stray hair away from my face. "I want you just as you are. You're mine, Elisa. Nothing about that will change."
"No, this can't be changed," I told him.
"Remember what we decided when we first knew what we meant to each other?" he asked.
"You made a promise," I replied.
"What was my promise to you?"
"That you'd never force the mating."
"And you promised me that you'd come to me the moment you were ready," he added. "I've upheld my promise to you. I'll wait for however long it takes. I'll wait until my last dying breath for you to say the words to me, the words that will complete our bond. If you want to go and live your life first, fine. If you want to know how it feels to have a normal man, okay. You want to play the field…I'll deal with it. But when you are done, you come to me. And when you come to me, I'll give you the world like you've never seen it before."
"Tristan…" I wasn't sure what to say to that, but I knew this man would have me one way or the other. He had waited patiently until I was old enough. He had supported me while I pursued my degree. Now he was still waiting for me to accept him as mate.
I looked up at him again, my face only centimeters from meeting his. He had never kissed my lips before, but I wanted him to. If I asked, he would. But I've never asked. I knew the moment that we shared something as intimate as a kiss like lovers shared, I wouldn't be able to go back—even if I wanted to. Our wolves were drawn to bond with each other even if the union caused more chaos than harmony.
Tristan's mouth lingered over mine as if he would take my lips at any moment. He must have reeled his desires back in because he lifted his mouth to my forehead a
nd kissed my temple instead.
"You come to me when you're ready," he spoke softly against my face. "You are mine. And I don't care what our people think about that. I would start a war to win you. Don't you know that?"
I nodded and leaned my head into his chest. "That's what I'm afraid of, Tristan. That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
"Of war? You're afraid of war? You have the power to stop a man's heart, yet you fear war?"
"Yes…of the outcome."
"Don't worry, my Queen. Just as you predict, there will be more blood on my hands, but with my victory, our Packs will know peace again. I will crush anyone who tries to take you from me."
Chapter Five
Elisa
I was standing over the conference table rummaging through an old wood and iron chest found deep down in the basement of the Caedmon Mansion. I was most interested in some old copper plates and several pieces of material that resembled a stretched rubbery material. The scripts written on the pieces weren't in any language that I could decipher with just one glance, but I only knew about five different languages to date. Roman, my uncle knew three times as many languages—ancient and modern. Some of the inscriptions on the newer pieces even reminded me of braille, with patterns of raised dots and various figures. I couldn't help but wonder if Roman was still alive to see these would he know how to read them.
I traced the scripts on one of the copper plates, hoping to pick up something. Anything. A tiny vibe or drop of energy, but the elders had insisted that the written material contained no powers or bottled up energy. Not like the chest and possessions of William Caedmon II did anyway, but his powers had intentionally been locked away for a reason. His energy had since been put to good use, distributed among the most trusted Caedmon council members, and because of it, our Caedmon bloodline would continue to grow stronger. We weren't a dying breed—we were just a conflicted community of shifters, witches, and humans with inherited powers. And if we remained a conflicted bunch, we wouldn't be prepared for the shit storm headed our way. I didn't know when it would happen, but one day it would happen.
"Find any spells that you can use to wreak havoc, sister?"
Dawson Caedmon was leaning against the doorway of the conference hall, his arms folded over his chest.
I had been so invested in trying to decipher the scripts that I hadn't seen or heard him come in.
"I wasn't looking for any spells. I'm not a common witch. My gifts exist within my blood." I stuffed some of the copper plates into my handbag.
"And for the record, I don't wreak havoc," I added.
He chuckled and pushed off the door frame. "Oh, but you could."
I noted the playful twinkle in his ice blue stare.
"I could and I'd rather not. What are you still doing here anyway? I thought you and Alessia had a flight to board. Destination honeymoon, right?"
"We do."
"You've been busy," I noted. "I can't believe the two of you planned this wedding all on your own."
"Well, I am the party planner of the century," he joked. "Alessia's got skills too."
"You two nailed it. The ceremony and everything were just beautiful. You stuck with the Caedmon traditions too."
"Yup," he replied. "I stuck with the tradition. I said my wedding vows on Caedmon land. I spent my wedding night in this old mansion. It was what Alessia wanted because she knew how much it would mean to me. Either way, we leave for Amsterdam tomorrow evening."
"The Netherlands? Isn't that where Alessia's dad is from?" I asked.
Dawson nodded. "Her father and I kept the destination a surprise from her up until the day before the wedding. I'll never forget the look on her face when I told her where we were going and how long we'd be there doing absolutely nothing. No work. Just play. She's so anxious to learn about her father's roots. Her roots."
"That sounds exciting. She deserves it after what her mother's side of the family tried to do to her." I sighed. "But that's life as we Caedmon know it, I guess. Bad things happen to good people for no apparent reason."
"Her story is sort of similar to yours," Dawson commented.
"Sort of. But in this case, it wasn't my aunt who wanted to kill me, it was my own mother," I replied.
Dawson looked down at the floor and the awkward silence continued between us before he picked up one of the pieces off the table.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
"Yeah, a message of some sort. I dated its origins back to the 1300s."
"I know it's a message, but this is animal skin." He brought it to his nose and sniffed it. "Is this what our ancestors were writing on back then?"
I frowned. "I had no idea what it was. I was only trying to read them."
"Yeah, it's rawhide. So, you can't read it?"
I shook my head. "No, not all of it, but I'm going to try."
"The elders said these treasures and things were only valuable for deriving energy from, you know, energy left behind by our ancestors."
"That's what the elders were taught to believe. Just because they don't see any value in it, doesn't mean someone else wouldn't," I told him.
"You remind me so much of Roman, you know. His home was filled with these things, some of which survived the fire. I thought he was just a packrat, but now I'm beginning to understand why he made us read every book on these shelves." He waved his arm to one side of the room at the rows of books that went from one corner of the room to the other and reached the ceiling. "I once told him that I'd be dead before I could read everything. He proved me wrong."
I shrugged. "It didn't take me long to read them all."
"Ha!" Dawson laughed. "Says the girl who knew how to read by the time she was three."
"Not entirely. I had help from the maids, the kitchen staff, and Roman, of course."
Dawson pointed to the rawhide. "This was how our ancestors communicated to each other before the Tribe became a Pack, but what do you think you'll learn from these?"
"Maybe I won't uncover anything new or Earth-shattering. Besides, history has shown to repeat itself, but I've always been curious. That's what gets me trouble, right?"
"You've got that right. How come your powers don't work on any of these? I thought you could touch things and…you know…see things."
"My gifts don't work that way. And even if I saw something, it takes a lot of skill and knowledge to understand what it is I'm seeing. Before Roman died, I used to only be able to see the past, but now, I sometimes see things that haven't happened yet. That makes things a bit complicated on my end."
"I wish you didn't have to go through all of this, you know. If Roman were here…" A look of pain crossed his face.
"I know, brother. But make no mistake. Roman is still here in spirit. Don't talk about him like he's gone because he's not," I said.
Dawson cracked a crooked smile, but the look in his eyes remained saddened.
"When Damon and I were growing up in this mansion, Roman was all we had. He taught us everything we knew. Even when my father was gone and even with the threat of our enemies coming for us, he kept us sane. I was there when he convinced Damon to secure the Alpha position for himself. I was just a boy. Damon kept talking of these visions and saying that he wasn't meant to lead. He kept talking about bastard sons and how everything was a lie. Roman kept most of it from the other elders, of course, because if anyone saw how unfit Damon was to lead us, they would never have accepted him. Now I see…some of the things Damon told us during his fits were true. Maybe even all of them. I think he knew about Roman. I don't know how or when, but I suspect he did. After his death, it was so convenient for the elders to say that he jumped or had somehow miscalculated his climb. Damon took after our late father—he wasn't in his right mind. He wasn't fit to lead. Just like father wasn't. It was always supposed to be Roman. One thing I was certain of back then was that Damon was an expert climber. He had climbed that mountain so many times, he could've climbed it blindfolded. At least, we now have the truth—he
was pushed. Priestess Shanhah had him pushed. They found him mangled up in a tree."
I stood in complete silence for a moment. Dawson wasn't telling me anything that I didn't already know before, but he was telling it in a different manner. It was said that there were always two sides to any story and that any story could be told over and over again in many different ways. It was happening now. Right here. And a light bulb went off and I thought of something I hadn't even considered before.
"What did they do with Damon after they found him? He wasn't in the family cemetery. Why?"
"In his will…he asked not to be buried there. There was a big fight over it, but Damon's written request won in the end." Dawson grimaced.
"What did they do with him?"
"They burned him."
"Why?" I asked. "It's not our custom to burn our dead."
"See? This is why there was a big fight. Roman almost gave in with all the elders arguing. And of course, we had no Alpha present to decide."
"And the ashes? What happened to them?" I asked.
"Roman told me to scatter them over the mountain. I had climbed with Damon before, but I still took a few men out there. It's just not the same as climbing trees, but I did as I was told. I took the ashes, climbed the mountain, and let them go in the wind. It was the last time I ever climbed a mountain. It was the last time I felt my brother's presence."
"His ashes are by the mountainside?" I asked, my voice low and hushed because I hadn't intended the question to be for anyone.
Dawson chuckled. "Not anymore. That was years ago. His urn was destroyed when Roman's cabin burned to the ground."
"I have to go." I picked up my bag and stuffed some more of the old copper plates and relics inside.
"Isn't that bag a little too heavy for a girl?" Dawson asked, watching me.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm a woman capable of carrying my own load."
"Suit yourself." Dawson held up his palm in defeat. "You know those aren't supposed to leave the mansion, right?"
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