by Zoe Chant
And the empty space inside him, waiting for him to fall again.
Across the table, Chloe swallowed. Mathis watched her warily and tensed as she cleared her throat.
Chloe seemed to share his caution. Mathis saw her mouth work as she searched for words.
“Mr. Harper,” she said at last, her voice shaking. “Thank you for having us for dinner, but how long is this going to take? Mathis doesn’t look good.” She swallowed again. “I’m sure you don’t want him to keel over in the middle of the first course…”
“Oh, there’s no danger of that, Ms. Kent. He may look a little under the weather now, but a good square meal will take care of that.” Harper gestured with his fork, outlining Mathis’ body. “Look at—look at him, Ms. Kent. I insist.”
Mathis stared at Chloe. Her eyes were locked on the table between them.
Of course she doesn’t want to look at me, he thought, feeling sick. I’m just a story to her. She wanted to find out our secrets, and leave—not stick around to deal with the consequences.
“Ms. Kent.” Harper’s voice was venomous.
Slowly, Chloe’s gaze rose from the table. Under Harper’s acid commands, she looked across at Mathis.
Her anguish struck him harder than any of the polar bear’s blows.
“Now, pay attention, my dear. After all, you’re still planning to escape, aren’t you? You’ll want to be specific when you report on our secrets, won’t you.”
“I…” Chloe’s voice broke off and her eyes slid sideways, as though she couldn’t bear to look at him. Mathis’ insides twisted. Chloe’s lips were tight, twisted down at the corners in what looked like disgust.
“Look at him, Ms. Kent. After all, he can’t stop looking at you. Do you know why that is?”
Harper’s voice hissed in Mathis’ ear.
“Is this really necessary, Harper?” Mathis clenched his fists, fighting back an urge to shout at the other man to shut up.
Harper raised his eyebrows. “Of course! I want to make sure we’re all on the same page, Matty. Just trying to help out. After all, if Ms. Kent here is going to be your good-behavior guarantee, she deserves to know why, doesn’t she? What do you think, Ms. Kent?”
Mathis’ mouth went dry. Chloe wouldn’t meet his eyes; she looked at the table, and then stared at Harper, her eyes hard.
“Tell me,” she said quietly, her lips a thin, tense line.
“Chloe, I—”
“Now now, Matty, she didn’t ask you.” Harper grinned toothily. “If you wanted to spill the beans, you had plenty of time last night.” He sat back, carefully replacing his fork on the table. His grin turned Mathis’ stomach.
“You and Matty here made a very special connection last night, didn’t you, Ms. Kent? More special than you realized, I’m afraid. What were you after? A bit of rough? An exclusive scoop?”
Chloe didn’t reply. Mathis’ stomach turned.
Harper laughed. “Well, you’ve got more than that! Look at him: the hopeless expression, that hang-dog look in his eyes—he’s in love.”
Mathis’ heart twisted. “How dare you—”
Harper raised one hand, and the polar bear shifter stepped closer to Chloe. Mathis shut his mouth, trembling with rage.
“You’re right, Matty, that’s not really accurate, is it? Love. Hah! Congratulations, Ms. Kent. You’re Mathis Delacourt’s mate. He would do anything for you—he can’t help it. Fight for you. Die for you.” Harper’s eyes glinted. “Even now that he knows who you really are.”
All the color drained out of Chloe’s face. She stared across at Mathis.
“Is—is this true?”
Mathis looked away.
It was true. Everything Harper said was true.
Mathis would do anything for Chloe. He couldn’t let her be hurt; it would destroy him more than any physical fight ever could. It would tear his soul apart.
Even if she had always meant to betray him.
“Aha,” said Harper cheerily as the doors opened again. “Here’s the food. I hope you’re both hungry!”
CHAPTER 12
CHLOE
The door shut behind them. It didn’t slam, or rattle in its hinges—just swung closed and clicked with quiet finality, shutting them both in Mathis’ bedroom.
Chloe’s breath hitched in her throat. She rubbed her face, not sure whether the empty quaking sensation inside her was going to turn into sobs or terrified laughter.
She could feel Mathis beside her, and then a cold feeling of absence as he moved away to the other side of the room.
He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t spoken to her since Harper told her she was his mate. And everything else.
Chloe gulped. Her mind was rattling like gravel in a tin can, crashing over and over the conversation from the dinner table.
Mathis had lied to her. She’d been right about that. Just not the extent of it.
And now he knew she’d lied, as well.
Shit.
She ran her fingers through her hair, shoulder muscles twanging. If they’d both lied—maybe that put them on an even footing.
Yeah, and I bet the stupidly rich guy who can turn into an apex predator will see it that way, too.
Chloe winced. The little voice inside her head could be an asshole, but this time, she had a sinking suspicion it was right.
She lowered her hands. Mathis was standing across the room, silhouetted against the window. He had his hands on the windowsill, his forehead resting wearily against the glass. He wasn’t looking at her. He hadn’t looked at her since they were finally allowed to leave the dining room.
Yeah, I really don’t see this working out.
Chloe was surprised by the hollow ache that opened up inside her at the thought. Of all the terrifying things that had happened to her in the last few hours, this was the one that made her heart hurt? Not the fact that she was probably going to die out here, but the possibility that her one-night stand might not like her?
She must be in shock, because that was just ridiculous.
It was all ridiculous.
“So, what’s the deal here, then?” she blurted out, nerves making her voice gritty and unpleasant. “Harper says all that shit to make us turn on each other, and still wants to use me as bait to keep you on good behavior? How good a hostage am I going to be if you hate my guts?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Mathis’ voice was flat. Empty.
“What doesn’t matter?” Chloe shot back before his emotionless tones could make her heart twist any more.
“Whether I actually like you, or not. Harper knows that. I would die for you, even if I hated you.” Mathis raised his head, staring out into the afternoon sunlight. “Keeping us together will ensure that.” He snorted. “Maybe you can add that to your tell-all.”
“My what?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here? To do research on shifters, so you can reveal our secrets to the rest of the world?” His shoulders tightened. “That’s why you were looking for phone signal last night, wasn’t it? You were trying to report back. You must have thought you hit the jackpot when I turned up.”
Chloe’s stomach twisted. “Well, I’m a pretty shitty journalist if so, right? Looks like I targeted the one guy with enough money to make anything I tried to publish disappear!”
She clenched her fists and slammed one back into the wall, so angry she could hardly think straight. Angry and afraid. Either way, her blood was boiling.
“And so what if I was trying to get a message out? Maybe if more people knew about what was going on here, we both wouldn’t be the prisoners of some psycho on his fucking death island!” She flung one arm out. “And what about all the other staff who were brought in to watch that bear guy rip me to pieces? You think they knew what they were getting into? And all the guests who come here to see people fight—what is wrong with you people?”
“We’re not all like Harper.” Mathis half-turned, but his profile was silhouetted by the fading light outside. “M
ost shifters are normal people, just trying to get on with their lives. You can’t judge us all based on—”
“Based on what? Based on one bad apple? Because there were at least twenty bad apples watching you beat on that wolf guy last night—and scaring the shit out of Thandie when she was on duty.” Another wave of rage poured through Chloe. “I talked to her this morning, by the way. She thought Harper and his guests had killed me. She was terrified.”
And so am I! she wanted to scream. She gulped in breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. When she opened her mouth again, she couldn’t keep her voice from wobbling.
“Last night, when you told me about shifters… I thought it sounded magical. But it’s not, is it? It’s a nightmare.” And I can’t wake up.
And I can’t stop hurting, every minute you don’t look at me.
Mathis stood like a statue at the window and she watched, transfixed, as a purple-grey bruise on his shoulder blade faded before her eyes. Last night, when she watched Mathis’ scratches heal, it had been like watching a miracle. But this just made her feel ill. She couldn’t forget how he’d got the wounds.
How many more will he get, while Harper uses me as bait? she thought, and swallowed hard.
Mathis looked up. For half a heartbeat, he looked lost—and then his eyes shuttered, locking away whatever it was he was feeling.
Chloe wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. For a moment, she’d felt so ill she thought she would throw up. But she could control it. She had to.
Just like she had to control this sad, pathetic crush on a man who clearly wanted nothing more to do with her, mate-bond or not.
“So what happens now?” she said weakly, all her rage burnt out.
“We escape.”
Chloe turned her sob into a snort. “That easy, is it?”
“I’m not going to let Harper keep you here. The longer we spend together, the stronger the mate bond will become. And from where I’m standing, it sounds like that would be playing right into his hands.”
There was steel in Mathis’ voice, but it was tempered with resignation. His shoulders slumped, then he seemed to pull himself together. He glanced out the window.
“How long do you think we have until it’s dark?”
Chloe leaned back against the wall. “A few hours, maybe. Twilight lingers on a bit here. It was—” She gulped, and hurried on, “It didn’t get properly dark until quite late last night, remember.”
“Yes.” Mathis hesitated. Chloe wished he could see his face, but he had turned away again. “How much sneaking around the island did you do before I got here?”
Chloe pushed down an angry response. “Not a lot. But some.”
She looked past Mathis, out the window. How long until it gets dark…?
Her mind caught onto that thought and followed it out of the rattling tin-can of terror she’d been trapped in. Mathis opened his mouth but she got in first, her voice low.
“There aren’t any security guards, that’s the first thing I noticed. There are floodlights and everything along the paths, but apart from that the whole island basically shuts down overnight.” She brought up a picture of the schedule Nora had made them memorize in her mind, and ticked off each point on her fingers. “The final cleaning shift ends at one. Gardening crew gets up at four to make sure the paths and pools are clear before sunrise, before any guests get up. Kitchens at five.” She bit her lip. “At least, according to our training. We’ve only had one night live, and I was… well. I wasn’t there for most of it.”
Mathis’ gaze was like a flash-fire, leaving her breathless in the split second he looked at her. Then he turned away, again, his fists clenched at his sides.
“That gives us a window of a few hours, at least,” he muttered.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and this time, his gaze didn’t scald her. Mathis’ pale gold eyes were intense, but the expression in them was grim determination.
“I swear I will get you off this island, Chloe. Tonight.”
Looking into his eyes, Chloe couldn’t help but believe him. He outlined his plan, and slowly she pulled herself away from the edge of panic.
They could do this. Escape. Get off this nightmare island. And after that…
Chloe waited until Mathis was in the shower to squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth. After that—God knows what would happen after that.
Mathis had said that the more time they spent together, the stronger the mate bond would become. Maybe that meant if they escaped tonight, and separated, it would—weaken? Dissolve?
Maybe she could leave all of this behind her, not just the island. Lock the door and throw away the key on this particular experience. Forget Mathis. Never see him again.
Maybe she could even convince herself that was what she wanted.
CHAPTER 13
MATHIS
Mathis rested his head against the cool tile of the shower wall. Steaming hot water poured over his back and shoulders, stinging on his newly healed skin.
You’ve really fucked up this time, Matts. The voice in his head sounded like his twin sister. He and Francine didn’t get on well these days, and he no longer wondered why. Francine, with her razor-sharp business skills, was running her own mini-empire. Mathis had never had that sort of drive. Pretending to be Matt Dell had given him purpose for a while…
And see where that got you.
Adrenaline gripped his muscles. He grabbed a loofah and soap and scrubbed at his skin, scraping off dried blood and sweat. He wanted to get rid of Matt Dell, every trace of him. The shabby clothes. The close-cropped hair. He couldn’t do anything about those, but this—the blood—the fights—
Who was he kidding? Matt Dell wasn’t the problem. Mathis Delacourt was. The same as always.
He turned off the water and toweled off, avoiding his reflection in the bathroom mirror. No amount of water could wash away the bitter shame clinging to him.
Some future alpha you are. No drive. No direction. Even your mate is disgusted by you.
Mathis grimaced as he remembered the look on Chloe’s face when he finally managed to control himself enough to look at her. She’d tried to hide it but hadn’t been fast enough.
If he closed his eyes, he could see her now. That sickened look, as though she could barely stand the sight of him. And the anger that blazed out of her with every breath since they’d been herded back into his room.
Of course she hates you. You did this to her. If you hadn’t slept with her last night, she would still be safe.
Barely looking where he was going, Mathis pushed his way through the door back into the bedroom and froze, his hand on the edge of the door.
When he’d left, Chloe was still standing by the wall, as though she was trying to keep as much space between the two of them as possible. Now she was sitting on the bed, her arms around her knees, her dark hair spilling down over her shoulders.
She looked exhausted. If she’d been blazing with anger before, then now the fire was gone, and he was seeing what it had hidden. Too late, Mathis saw through her vicious bluster to the fear she had been hiding beneath.
The empty space inside him twisted and suddenly his lion was there again, roaring protectively. Roaring at him.
“Chloe,” he said, his voice rough. Something inside him died as he saw how she changed as she realized he was watching her. She pulled herself up, her eyes flashing indignantly—but her knuckles were still white where they gripped her knees.
Mathis’ lion bared its teeth inside him, its protective rage burning inside his skin. His lion was protecting its mate.
Protecting her from him.
Shame crashed down on him, so heavy his bones shook under the weight of it. His lion rose up, ready to take advantage of his emotional turmoil to take form and protect Chloe in person.
Mathis pushed it down. They still had to carry out the plan. And for that, he needed to be human.
She was going to reveal shifters to the world, he reminded himself
and his lion. She’s dangerous. If she’d managed to get her message out last night…
But his lion wasn’t listening. It hissed at him, lips drawn back over its teeth, and lay in wait inside him, ready to strike the moment his mate needed to be protected.
Mathis dropped his head. “Shower’s free,” he muttered. “And I—where did that come from?”
He stared at the dress hanging from the bedroom door. It reminded him of the sorts of dresses his sister would wear to charity events: sparkly and long. But little as Mathis knew about fashion, he knew Francine wouldn’t be caught dead in a gown that shocking shade of scarlet.
Chloe was glaring at it like it was made of dead rats.
“Julian dropped it off,” she explained, her voice flat. “They want you to fight again in an hour. A proper fight this time, he said. For the guests. To make it look like everything’s business as normal.”
“Shit.”
“Yep.”
Mathis flexed his wrists. He’d healed up from his fight with the polar bear shifter, but—
“This can’t change our plans.”
Chloe’s eyes flicked over to him, then back to the dress. “I know.” She pointed her chin at a battered suitcase beside the door. “He dropped off all my stuff, too, so at least I’ll have something sensible to wear when we leave.”
“Any idea who I’ll be fighting?”
Mathis felt light-headed. A few weeks ago, he would have been asking these questions of Josh Lanyard, or any of the other small-time owners whose gyms he’d fought at. Who’ll I be fighting? What are their tactics? Strong points? Weaknesses? Anything else I should know?
For the first time, he wondered what his human opponents asked about him—and how the owners and managers answered. What rumors had reached Harper’s ears, and led him to find Matt Dell, the fighter who came out of nowhere and laid out everyone who went in the ring with him?
Chloe was shaking her head. “Sorry. He said Harper wanted it to be a surprise.”
Which means she asked. She wanted me to know what to prepare for. Mathis pushed back the flare of warmth that burst inside him. She just doesn’t want you KO’d before you can get her off this island.