by Zoe Chant
Chloe stood up. Mathis swallowed as he saw her knees wobble, just a fraction, before she marched over to her bag. “He’ll be back soon,” she said, her voice clipped. “And I don’t want to go back into that viewing room smelling like fear and blood, so if you’re all done in the shower…”
She snatched the dress off its hanger and stalked past him into the bathroom. Mathis moved out of the way just as she grabbed the door from his hand and slammed it shut.
The shower started a moment later. Mathis groaned and forced himself to go to the other side of the room. He dressed slowly, every movement a fight against his instincts. His lion—his soul—was roaring at him to go to her, to put his arms around her and comfort her, despite everything.
He took a deep breath. Just wait until we’re off the island. Then—then…
He couldn’t let himself think past their escape. The possibilities hurt too much. Especially as the first thing he would have to do when they got off the island was ensure Chloe didn’t reveal the shifters’ secret to the world.
Against his better instincts, Mathis found himself listening intently to the noises coming from the bathroom. The rush of water, and the sputtering drip as Chloe turned off the shower. The soft splash of her feet on the wet floor, and of the towel rubbing against her skin.
Mathis wished he could turn off his ears.
Chloe took a long time finishing up in the bathroom. Mathis had convinced himself that she was staying in there to keep away from him, until the door swung open.
The dress fit Chloe like a glove, clinging to her generous curves and shimmering with every breath she took. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, and in the dim light of the bedroom, Chloe’s dark hair and eyes gave the tawdry dress grace and class.
“What do you think?” Chloe mumbled.
Mathis looked at her, hard. “I think you want to tear it off and stuff it down Harper’s throat.”
Chloe’s mouth quirked, and that almost-smile made Mathis’ heart ache. He finished tying his shoes and stood up.
“Chloe, I—”
A knock on the door interrupted him. A moment later, Julian stepped inside, his bottle-green eyes darting from Chloe to Mathis.
“Follow me, please.”
Gritting his teeth, Mathis held the door for Chloe. As they walked down the corridor, she brushed against his arm. Mathis glanced down, and then lowered his head as she whispered:
“There’s something else going on here, I know it.”
Mathis nodded silently. He and Chloe couldn’t be the only people Harper had trapped like this. It was too neat. The way Harper had put him off his guard, delayed him, and closed the trap. Like he’d done it before.
Chloe’s footsteps faltered as they approached the tower. Just as Julian directed Mathis down the corridor to the ring, Chloe grabbed his elbow.
“Try not to hurt them any more than you have to,” she begged him, her face tense. “We don’t know how many of them are—are in the same position.”
“I will,” Mathis reassured her. If I can.
He knew without having to think about it that Harper would have some game around that, as well.
***
The fights went fast. Mathis faced off against the wolf shifter from the night before first, then a pair of coyotes. A caiman, for God’s sake. Mathis would have laughed if it wasn’t so obvious what Harper was doing.
He’d been too bold. Telling Harper about his family—that had been a mistake. And now Harper wanted to take him down a peg.
There hadn’t exactly been time to chat during their bout, but Sven had muttered a few urgent messages while they exchanged blows. He warned Mathis to keep his distance from Chloe—already done. And he’d said something that had made Mathis’ blood chill.
Sven told him he had hoped this wouldn’t happen again. Mathis wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant.
Mathis was bleeding from a dozen wounds by the time the gates opened again, releasing another shifter. If he’d been in human form, Mathis would have gone green.
The shifter was a young woman, in her mid-twenties at the most, with dark skin and close-cropped curly hair. Mathis could hear her teeth chattering from where he stood on the other side of the ring.
And that was all he could hear.
With the other fighters, he had been aware of a sort of psychic background hum, an overflow of the shifters’ telepathic abilities. Not sentences, or even words, but a push of feeling: adrenaline, violence, steely determination. Not enough to tell Mathis whether they were here willingly or not, but enough that he knew they would fight to the best of their abilities.
But not this woman. All Mathis felt from her was a blank, and it disturbed him more than any amount of bloodlust.
Mathis shook his mane out, huffing uncomfortably. He prowled back and forth as the woman stood, panting, but not moving.
Chloe was right. There is something deeply wrong here.
He glanced up at the window. Chloe’s scarlet dress was like an emergency flare, and a constant reminder of why he was here.
She was standing next to Harper.
Mathis snarled, fangs bared at the man who had imprisoned his mate, and the broken shifter woman struck.
He heard the slip of her bare feet against the concrete and turned just in time to see her shift mid-air, her body twisting and shrinking. Mathis reared back, ready to meet her attack.
When he saw what she was shifting into, he hesitated, horror filling him long enough for the ibex shifter to land, slice razor-sharp horns against the wound in his side, and leap away again.
Her hooves clattered on the concrete floor as Mathis sank down, bile filling his gut. An ibex. The creature was barely three feet tall at the shoulder, a fleet-footed, delicate herbivore.
A prey animal. No wonder her mind was whited out with fear.
Mathis padded sideways, feeling sick. Was this another of Harper’s games? It had to be. Pitting him against a prey shifter.
Cold dread boiled in his stomach. What does he expect me to do? Fight her?
He sent out a tentative telepathic nudge to the ibex shifter, trying to reassure her that he didn’t mean her any harm. It didn’t get through. Her terror was so overwhelming it created a psychic barrier around her mind. Mathis’ message glanced off it like oil off water.
Mathis huffed again. He knew he could only stall for so long. That was how Harper had set two coyotes against him earlier—he’d balked against fighting a shifter so much smaller than himself, and Harper had sent out a second to attack him in tandem.
What would he do if Mathis refused to fight now?
He could guess.
Hurt him—or hurt Chloe.
Mathis growled, lowering himself to pounce. *I’m sorry* he sent out to the ibex shifter, knowing it was useless. *I don’t want to be here anymore than you do.*
He began to stalk the ibex around the ring, keeping low to the ground. He’d won all of the fights so far, but his healing abilities weren’t keeping up with his injuries. The ibex had ripped open the bite wound in his side, and then there was his shoulder—again, damn it—scratches to his face, bites on his back and legs—
Mathis was caught off guard as the ibex lowered her head and charged. He crouched defensively, but the ibex was too fast. So graceful it was almost like a dance, she leapt around Mathis, targeting his wounds with her horns and surprisingly sharp hooves.
Confused, Mathis jumped back. Pain lanced through his side and he roared, which sent the ibex skittering back.
But only for a moment. A heartbeat later and she was back, single-minded with bloodlust.
Mathis dodged as much as he could, but wherever he moved she was there already, ready to slice at him and dart away again. He roared again, dread settling in his stomach. Was this what Harper wanted? For him to be driven to seriously hurt this unhinged shifter?
*What did he do to you?* he asked desperately. There was no response.
The next time the ibex rushed him
, Mathis struck out. The ibex skittered away just in time and Mathis lunged heavily, overbalanced.
Inspiration struck.
He was bleeding. Injured. Exhausted. If Harper wanted to humiliate him by making him fight a deranged prey shifter—why not let her beat him?
But he couldn’t make it seem like he was throwing the match. He couldn’t risk Harper knowing it was a trick. God alone knew what he would do if he figured it out.
So the next time the ibex came near Mathis struck out again, and lost his footing; when he stumbled back, he held his head low, panting. He favored his un-injured side as he circled around the small deer. Blinked, and shook his head, as though his vision was blurring.
He let the ibex strike him, until his limping steps were only half-fake.
At last, and only when he thought Harper must be convinced it was real, Mathis stumbled and fell. The ibex was on him at once, dancing around and slicing at him. He flinched instinctively as she hit his side again, lashing out with a rear leg, then subsided, belly-up.
And the ibex attacked him again.
Mathis twisted, glancing up at Harper. This wasn’t right. Every fight, every one, ended when one shifter showed their belly. The classic sign of submission.
He lay back and the ibex rushed at him again. This time he barely managed to roll to his feet to protect the delicate skin of his underside.
*What are you doing? We can end this now!*
No response. It was like shouting at a wall.
Mathis tried to get to his feet but this time his leg collapsed under him for real. He braced himself as the ibex charged him, ripping at his shoulder with her horns. He swung his head to bite her but she was gone, again, and then pain burst in his side, along his back, his rear leg—
Somewhere, metal clashed on metal. The smell of human-shaped shifters broke through the smell of blood and strong arms pulled the ibex off him. Mathis twisted around in time to see two burly men wrestling her into submission as a third injected her with something. He recognized one of them: Sven. His first opponent the night before, and tonight.
*What the hell is going on?* he shot at the wolf shifter, who just shook his head.
*You should have joined us for that drink, Dell. Would have got you up to speed.*
The men dragged the unconscious ibex out, leaving Mathis alone in the fighting ring.
He dragged himself around until he could look up at Harper again. He focused his gaze, refusing to look at Chloe even though she was still standing right next to the monster.
What must she think of me, after seeing that? The thought scraped at his insides, hollowing him out.
Harper was holding a glass of champagne. He sipped it, looking down at Mathis with unreadable flat eyes, and after what felt like an eternity stretched out one hand to press the intercom.
“Thank you, Mr.—aha—Dell. That will do for tonight.” He paused. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, as the victor is indisposed, Mr. Dell will be joining us tonight to answer any of your questions…”
Mathis groaned, dropping his head. This charade again.
The fight had already gone on longer than he’d hoped. If they were going to leave tonight, they were running out of time.
CHAPTER 14
CHLOE
Chloe was shaking. She couldn’t help it. Every blow Mathis took was like a punch in her chest. When the ibex launched itself at his throat, she thought she would pass out.
And Harper knew it. Every gasp she tried to stifle, every time she swayed as Mathis stumbled or took another strike—every time, Harper laughed, as though it was the best joke he’d ever heard.
Even when the fight was over the nightmare didn’t finish. The moment Harper called the match, Chloe spun away, only to be stopped by his iron grip on her elbow.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to my quarters,” Chloe hissed through gritted teeth. “You and the guests are going to have drinks in the gold lounge, aren’t you? Like last night? So my shift is over.”
“Oh, my dear Ms. Kent, you’ve quite misunderstood.” Harper chuckled, guiding her back to the middle of the room. “You’re not on duty. In fact, you won’t have any staff duties for the rest of your time here. You’re my guest, and you simply must stay until the night is over.”
Chloe gulped. “I want to see Mathis—”
The words were out before she could stop them. Harper shook his head, a fatherly smile on his lying lips. “Of course you do. That’s what makes this setup so exceptionally useful. Now, just follow me—and remember to smile for the other guests…”
Chloe let him lead her down the corridor to the gold lounge. She didn’t need to smile at the other guests, because none of them looked at her.
Plausible deniability, she told herself, feeling ill. If they don’t see how upset I am, they can pretend they have no idea what’s going on, when all this gets out. And they must assume it’s going to get out someday. They’re too rich not to be paranoid.
Things were starting to click into place. The all-shifter staff, made up of small, weak shifters. The lack of security. The short-to-nonexistent advance notice of any visits. Harper’s island was a fly-by-night operation on a grand scale—and just as easy to break down, if things got risky. Chloe had no doubt Harper would get rid of his staff with no hesitation, and what better way of hiding mass murder than having your victims be a group of birds and tiny creatures?
Chloe felt faint. Thandie and the others. They’re in so much more danger than they know.
She almost stumbled, and Harper pulled her upright. He shoved her towards the window seat at the far end of the room.
“You look tired. Have a seat.”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t. But she wanted to see Mathis. If he was going to be here—
“I said, sit. And I wouldn’t move if I were you, not until I say so.” Harper’s face split into a thin smile that had too many teeth in it, gray and narrow behind his lips.
Chloe sat, ice crackling up her spine.
She saw Mathis come in. He was human-shaped again, and someone had given him a change of clothes. Black sweats that outlined his thigh and butt, and a white muscle shirt that he was bleeding through.
Chloe could have sobbed. She didn’t care if he thought she had come here to betray all of shifter-kind. She didn’t care if he hated that she was his mate. She wanted nothing more than to run across the room and fling her arms around him, to breathe in his scent and check his wounds.
But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what Harper would do to her, or Mathis, or anyone else if she disobeyed him. So she stayed in the window seat like a bird in a cage as Harper showed off his prize fighter.
She was shaking with rage and exhaustion by the time the VIPs started to disperse. The moment Harper snapped his fingers at her and gestured for her to move, she was on her feet.
“My goodness, you two make a lovely pair,” he said genially, eyes glinting. “Well done, both of you. Now, off to bed. Julian?”
Julian Rouse appeared so quickly Chloe jumped. She hadn’t noticed him before, but he must have been around. He was always around, always just out of sight. She must have been so focused on Mathis that she didn’t notice him.
He was paler this evening than Chloe had ever seen him, a tic twitching at the corner of one eye. Good, Chloe thought heartlessly. I hope you feel bad. I hope this shit keeps you up at night.
Neither she nor Mathis said anything as Julian took them back to his quarters, but Chloe grabbed hold of Mathis’ hand. He didn’t pull away, but to her horror, the further they walked the more he leant against her for support.
He’s exhausted. Chloe’s mouth went dry. So much for our plans. He can hardly walk. Which Harper must be gambling on.
No security team. No cameras. By forcing his victims to fight to exhaustion, Harper ensured their bodies were as much a prison as any cage.
Julian shut the door behind them without a word, and Mathis collapsed onto the bed almost in th
e same breath.
Chloe swore, panic gripping her. “You’re hurt.”
“It isn’t that bad,” Mathis said.
“Liar.” Chloe gulped. “I’ll get the first-aid kit.”
“There’s no time,” Mathis protested. He braced his arms on the side of the bed and hissed in pain. “I’ll be fine.”
“Sure you will.” Chloe’s insides were churning. She grabbed the first-aid kit from the bathroom and hurried back into the bedroom, standing directly in front of Mathis so there was no space for him to get up. “You’re fine. Everything’s fine. And anyone tracking us will just have to follow the bloody footsteps. Great plan.”
Her voice was harsher than she intended, but to her relief, Mathis stopped trying to get up.
“Good point,” he muttered.
He was shivering, just slightly, but his cheeks were flushed. Chloe frowned. “You’re exhausted.”
“I’m fine. We need to hurry.” Mathis jerked his head away as Chloe put out her hand to test his temperature. “Don’t.”
Chloe snatched her hand back. “But—”
Mathis’ face had been stiff with pain and simmering anger, but just for a moment his eyes softened. “I’m sorry. It’s safer if you don’t touch me when I’m like this.”
Chloe stared at him. “You need medical attention.”
“I need you not to touch me.” Mathis spoke through gritted teeth, the words ripping out of his throat. Chloe stepped back, feeling as though she’d been punched in the stomach.
Mathis sagged. “I don’t mean…” A muscle in his jaw moved and he raised his eyes to meet hers. “You didn’t sign up to be my—for this thing between us. Harper is exploiting it to control you. I won’t. I won’t use you like that. But the more you touch me, the stronger the bond will become.”
Chloe swallowed. Mathis’ words just made her want to hold him more. Everything about him did.
But what he was saying made sense. The mate bond, or connection, or whatever the hell it was, gave Harper a hold over them both. What had Mathis said earlier? That being close to one another would make the bond stronger?