She needed fresh air. She needed a chance to think without thousands of eyes staring at her, wondering who she was and why she deserved to be here with Drake, the world’s most eligible bachelor.
Emelia bolted the first chance she got, and that chance came thanks to Drake’s bodyguards. When Drake’s speech ended, a group of burly men grabbed him by the elbows and escorted him behind the stage. His bodyguards were the largest Emelia had ever seen, and easily the most handsome. Each of the men had razor-short hair, strong features, and surprisingly gentle eyes. Did he only hire former Abercrombie models or something?
Emelia hurried out the hall, down the outside steps, and around the rectangular patch of grass that stretched before her as long and wide as a football field. Buzzing with life, the noise of the city blended into one constant roar, drowning out the thoughts screeching through her head.
She slowed as she reached the trees lining the grass and shivered with awareness.
Someone was watching her.
Was it one of Drake’s guards? They seemed to be everywhere tonight. Always watching. Like they were waiting for something in particular. Something that had to do with her.
Keeping her pace slow, so that she wouldn’t wander too far from the hall, Emelia became hyperaware that someone was closing in. A rogue draft of crisp night air hit the back of her neck, launching a goose bump assault over her entire body.
“Hello?” Emelia asked, slowly spinning, peering through the dark between the trees that lined the opposite end of the grass. “If you’re looking for Drake, he’s still inside.”
Out of the shadows beside her, Drake appeared. Emelia jumped, clutching her heart.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, fighting the urge to smack him.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Drake’s gait was slow and deliberate. Almost a stalk. “Enjoying the night?”
The tone of his voice was different. Warmer and deeper. Somehow, Emelia thought she picked up the hint of an accent. Was it Middle Eastern? Drake was gorgeous in a tux, his shoulders impossibly broad, accentuating the squareness and strength of his jaw and the trim cut of his waist.
Liar, she reminded herself. Why did he have to be so good-looking? It would be easier to hate him if he looked like a beast. “I was having a great time. I even felt like Cinderella for most of the night, until someone lied to me.”
“Who could lie to such a beautiful creature?”
“Very funny.” She quirked her head and walked past him. He wasn’t going to pretend the lies didn’t happen—she wasn’t in the mood. “Did you think I’d look at you differently if I thought she was your mother?”
Drake seemed to stiffen, then fell into line beside her. “The truth is, I don’t like thinking of my mother, not when she pretended to have good intentions while screwing her own family out of money that was rightfully theirs.”
“Wow,” she said, turning to face him. “So she is your mother? You’re going with that story now?”
“She is my mother—at least she was before I disowned her. It’s complicated. And like I said, I’d rather not talk about the witch.”
“You sure know how to flip your words ass over end, don’t you? One second you’re singing Serephina’s praises and the next you’re throwing her under the bus. I’m sure you do the same thing with your women.”
Oh, she had Drake’s number now. She’d met men like him before. Hell, she’d almost married a man like him before. Emelia was dead tired of men flipping their minds and hearts like light switches. One second they were in love, the next they were fleeing to Las Vegas to marry the stripper from their bachelor party…not that she knew from experience or anything.
Drake’s expression remained still as stone. He closed the distance between them, but kept moving as if he would run her right over if she didn’t back up. The first pangs of fear hit Emelia’s system hard and she retreated, backing against the trunk of a tree. Drake stayed on course, and didn’t stop until his body was against hers, his knee wedged between her thighs. Alarms went off in Emelia’s brain and she put her hands against his chest to stop him.
“What are you doing?” she said. “Back off.”
This man looked like Drake, but he…wasn’t. Her eyes may have been playing tricks on her by seeing double, but deep down she knew this man wasn’t Drake. Same determined stare, same build and stature, but there was one tiny difference: this man didn’t have a tiny indentation on his left ear.
“You’re a stunner, I’ll give Drake that much.” The man’s eyes churned with hatred. “I’m surprised he’s been able to last as long as he has. If you were my Luminary, I would’ve had you ten times over already.”
Definitely. Not. Drake.
Emelia tried to slide past Drake’s look-alike. He pinned her in place, trapping both of her wrists in one of his hands. A shadow crossed over his face, turning his features sinister. She cried out, but he clamped a large hand over her mouth, severing her scream.
“You’re going to get something through your head.” His hot breath coated her face. “You’re leaving with me tonight, and you’re going to be my sweet little ticket to getting everything. If you come with me quietly, it’ll be far less painful than what’ll happen to you if you scream again.”
If she could get to the street, she could scream to high heaven. Someone would have to help her. She might have a chance to get away. Where was Drake? Would he even know to look for her out here? And what happened to all those guards who were stationed everywhere? Couldn’t any of them wander outside for a smoke? She’d been stupid to leave the gala. She should’ve stayed at the table like he’d told her to. Having no other choice, Emelia nodded, her lips mashed beneath the stranger’s meaty fingers.
“Good girl.” The stranger eyed Emelia curiously, his gaze settling on her lips. Slowly, he removed the hand from her mouth, but kept his knee firmly in place. “Why my brother hasn’t taken advantage of this sweet body of yours, I’ll never know. Has he told you why he hasn’t completed the bond with you yet? Has he told you that you’re not strong enough? That you’ll never be like us?”
“Your brother? Completed the bond?” Confused as hell and rattled to the core, Emelia tried to stay strong, fighting against her natural reaction to shake like a leaf. She downright refused to play the part of a victim. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why hasn’t he at least bitten you and started the transition? It’s a shame to leave you so weak and vulnerable.”
“Bitten me?” Emelia felt like she’d been warped into the twilight zone. This guy truly was a monster. “Keep your teeth away from me.”
“He hasn’t told you a thing, has he? It’s a shame to leave you in the dark, especially since you’re his Luminary.” The stranger tsk’d his tongue against his blindingly white teeth. “You see, if I bit you right here”—his cold fingers brushed against her neck—“you’d start the transition process.”
Emelia’s breath hitched as his nails dug into her skin. He was a madman. Certifiably insane. She should scream. She should knee him in the crotch and run. Emelia’s arms and legs grew heavy, frozen from fear.
“If I bit you in the exact same place, or left you with one only one bite, you’d die a long, painful death. But if I bit you on a second pulse point, right here for example”—his hand brushed Emelia’s inner thigh through her gown—“you’d finish the transition and become one of us. But you won’t get the chance to experience that kind of power rushing through your veins. I’ve got far greater plans for you than that.”
Oh, God.
“You’re going to be my ticket to ruling the pack I was always meant to rule. I was born first, damn it, the title was rightfully mine. But it’s no matter now. Thanks to you, I’m getting everything.” Bending down, the stranger inhaled deeply, then moaned. “Your fear smells so damn good. I could keep you here all day.”
“I don’t know anything about a bite or a transition or what you want from Drake. Let me go.�
�� Emelia wriggled against him, but it was no use. He was too large, too strong, and was holding her too tightly. The more she struggled, the more he pressed against her. “I think you have me confused with someone else. I’m not worth anything to Drake.”
He laughed and brushed a rough hand down her cheek. “So beautiful, so naive. Too bad we can’t stick around longer. I’d love to strip that innocent look off your face right along with this dress, but I can sense that some of his pups are on their way.” As he removed his knee from between Emelia’s thighs, his dark eyes glazed over. “Meet me at the corner. Ten seconds.” His tone changed into something slithery and dark. He wasn’t talking to her…but to whom, then?
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Oh, you’re coming. Whether you’re unconscious or not is up to you.” His fingers gouged into the back of her neck like she was a disobedient dog as he dragged her toward the street. Emelia tugged against him, skidding her heels over the concrete. A black Suburban screeched to a stop at the corner and the rear passenger door kicked open. Two shadowed forms lurked inside.
Oh, hell no.
She fought against him harder, tried to rip his fingers off her neck, tugging and pulling at his arm. She tried to trip him, tangling her legs in his. Still, he dragged her as if she weighed nothing.
“Don’t make me knock you out.” He snatched the mound of hair on her head and pulled.
Emelia yelped, both hands flying to her head as he jerked her along. There wasn’t much time. She’d taken enough self-defense classes to know that once she got in the SUV, she was good as dead.
Thinking fast, Emelia craned her neck around and yelled, “Drake!” as if she saw him coming.
It was enough to make the stranger turn. Emelia took the opening and kneed him in the crotch. He hit the ground, choking on air. She bolted. Through the trees. Across the grass. Her heels sunk in, slowing her pace, so she ripped them off.
“Help!” City hall was close, its pillars towering over her. They had to have a side door. “Somebody help me!”
Something slammed into Emelia from behind. She tripped, landing face-first in the wet grass. Piercing pain shot through her nose, making her eyes water and her temples throb. She flipped over, gasping as she stared into a pair of onyx-black, pissed-off wolf eyes. Emelia trembled, her breath pushing past her lips staccato and cold.
The wolf had Emelia pinned, one gigantic paw on either side of her head. Showing its razor-sharp teeth, the wolf growled and went rigid as if it was filled with rage. Fur on its head stood on end and its lips pulled back in a hideous snarl. Then, with a haunting howl that split the night, it bit into Emelia’s neck. Jagged teeth sank in deep, pulling at tendon and muscle. Screams got lost in Emelia’s throat as she gasped for air. The wolf tore its head from side to side, gnashing its teeth in her skin. Searing pain mixed with terror filled Emelia’s body, from head to foot, blood to bone.
The wolf pulled back, its muzzle dripping in blood.
Her blood.
If I bit you in the exact same place, you’d die a long, painful death. The stranger’s words echoed through her head as the wolf bared its canines and reared up. Emelia cringed and pinched her eyes tight, bracing for the wolf—or the man behind the wolf’s eyes—to kill her.
From out of nowhere, a second wolf crashed into the first. Clutching the gaping wound on her neck, Emelia maneuvered herself around, scrambling over the grass. Two wolves circled round and round, snapping and snarling at one another. Only they didn’t complete a full pacing circle. The darker of the two wolves, the one who’d saved her, didn’t seem to want to let the other near her. As the lighter wolf leaped in Emelia’s direction, the darker wolf growled and chomped at its neck. When the lighter wolf darted the opposite direction, the darker matched its flash of movement.
They were equal size—larger than pictures of wolves Emelia had seen—with thick black fur and hunched backs. They moved with the same deadly stealth and attacked with the same brute strength. They could’ve been the same wolf. Brothers, maybe.
Wait…hadn’t the stranger called Drake his brother? Hadn’t the wolf attacked Emelia seconds after she kneed the stranger in the family jewels? Beyond the wolves, the stranger was nowhere to be seen.
Couldn’t be, yet the word resounded in Emelia’s brain like a gong.
Brothers. Werewolves.
Chest constricting, Emelia crawled backward, her feet catching on the tail of her dress. She couldn’t pry her eyes away from the gruesome scene in front of her. It was like a horrible car crash unfolding in slow motion. The darker wolf chomped into the lighter wolf’s neck. It howled, then sliced its paws over the darker one’s back. They tumbled, throwing each other aside, clambering to their huge paws, then attacking again.
As Emelia’s vision blurred, she touched her neck and came away with a hand smeared with blood. It ran down her arm, red and thick, soaking the embossed petals in her dress. She was losing too much. She was going to bleed out on the grass in front of city hall. What a historic moment that would be!
Howls came from all around her—beside her, above her, from the hall itself. The sound was loud and muffled, like a distant trumpet announcing battle. Emelia supposed she simply had to wait for the soldiers to arrive.
She tried to get to her feet and slipped as dizziness set in. Defeated by her lack of strength, Emelia clutched the cool lawn and pressed her face against it. The dampness of the grass somehow soothed her, calming her racing heart. One wolf—she couldn’t tell which since their colors had blended together—glared at the other down its nose and growled so deeply that it shook the earth. The other wolf growled back, lower, though no less menacing, then took off running toward the black blur parked on the street.
It wasn’t two shuddering breaths before Emelia was surrounded by howls and stomping feet. Her eyes fluttered closed as the sound of Drake’s voice penetrated her weary haze. “It’ll be all right, Emie. I promise I’ll make everything all right.”
Muffled barks.
“How’d she get out here alone?” Drake’s voice. More growls. “You were supposed to be watching her every second. If she doesn’t recover from this, I’ll have your hide!”
Emelia’s dress tore away. Misty night air danced across her exposed legs. A warm mouth pressed a kiss against her inner thigh before she was bitten a second time.
Chapter Eleven
A cool washcloth pressed against Emelia’s forehead, jarring her awake. She gasped, sitting upright in a strange bed, in a strange room. Drake sat on a leather chair beside the bed, his face a dark mask. He looked tired—shadows hovered beneath his eyes and stress lines indented the corners of his mouth.
“Thank God you’re awake. I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.” Drake leaned back in his chair, though he still seemed on edge. “How do you feel?”
“Hungry. Tired. Achy.” Like she’d been flattened by a steamroller. “Where am I?”
“After the gala I brought you to my house outside the city. It’s the most heavily guarded home I have. Consider it your personal Fort Knox.”
She felt safe with Drake, no matter if she slept in Fort Knox or his mansion in Seattle, but she appreciated the fact that he wanted to make her feel that way.
“Is your head pounding?” he asked, rubbing his hands down his slacks.
She winced, touching the back of her head. Memories of the gala fought to the forefront of her mind. Why couldn’t she remember details from that night? Why was the event a blur after Drake’s speech? “I feel like power drills are grinding into my skull.”
“That’s good, under the circumstances.” Drake crossed his legs, bringing his ankle up over his knee, causing Emelia’s concentration to blow apart.
She hadn’t noticed until now: his tie was missing and his dress shirt was unbuttoned to his waist. As Drake shifted in his seat, the sides of his shirt fell away, revealing tan, sculpted muscle on his chest and downright lickable washboard abs. Despite herself, Emelia’s tong
ue shot out over her lips.
“A power drill is playing tic-tac-toe on the back of my head. Remind me how that’s a good thing?” She dropped her head back on the pillow and groaned. “My insides feel raw.”
“Raul is bringing you some Tylenol along with breakfast. Is there anything you want in particular? I’ll bring doughnuts if you promise not to practice your pitch on me.”
“Very funny.” As Emelia’s stomach growled, a hunger pang ripped through her. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’d kill for deep-dish pizza. Too early?”
“Not at all.” Drake laughed, the tension in his gravelly voice washing away. “I’ll have Raul bring you the best pizza in the city.”
His eyes glazed over and his head kinked to the side. Almost as though he floated somewhere in his mind. Then, in the next breath, he was back again, the same specks of worry shining in his eyes.
Suddenly, Emelia realized she wasn’t wearing the dress from the gala. “What’s this?” she asked, tugging on the collar of a men’s white cotton T-shirt. The thing was huge, dwarfing her body and sagging over her shoulders.
“After I brought you here, I changed you out of your gown. It had a few stains on it. I didn’t peek.” Smiling, Drake put up a hand in pledge. “Swear on the Bible.”
“You probably don’t even own a Bible.”
“I washed your face,” Drake continued, “and took down your hair. I thought you’d be more comfortable that way.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the bedside table, unscrewed the top, and handed it to her. “Here, take it. I’m sure you’re parched.”
Drake was right—her throat was abnormally dry. Like she’d wolfed down a package of sandpaper. She meant to take a sip of the water, but couldn’t stop guzzling once the water hit her throat.
“How long was I out?” she asked, handing back an empty bottle.
“It’s Tuesday morning, so…two days.” He checked his watch and frowned. “Did you dream?”
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