Chapter 3

Eve

Sometime later, the door swung open. It jarred me from an uneasy sleep against the wall, and I leapt to my feet.

A stocky guard stood at the entrance, glowering. "He'll see you now."

Cold rushed over me.

Shit.

The guard strode forward, reaching out to grab my arm. His grip made my skin crawl, and he tugged me toward him.

I yanked myself free. "I can walk."

He growled, and I got a hit of his magic—the scent of grass and the sound of birds screeching. Each supernatural had a magical signature that corresponded to one or more of the five senses, and the strongest had all five. For shifters, their signatures didn't necessarily correspond to their animal side, but I'd bet money this guy was some kind of bird of prey. But he only had two signatures, so he was of moderate strength.

I could probably take him.

A sound in the hall caught my attention, and I looked around him. Four more guards.

Double shit.

"Don't even think of trying anything," he said.

Yeah, I wasn't an idiot.

"Looks like I'm going to meet the Alpha," I said.

"I know." The guard frowned.

"I wasn't talking to you." I strode forward and stepped around him. I didn't like my fate, but I wasn't going to cower.

As the guards escorted me up the wide stone stairs, fear iced me to my bones. Years of hiding had made me exceptionally wary, and my self-preservation instincts were in overdrive.

What if he recognized me?

Surreptitiously, I touched my pointed ears. He'd buy it. As far as he knew, it was impossible to fake your species. And anyway, I looked so different now.

All the same, terror followed me every step of the way.

As we climbed to the main level, I caught the sounds of conversation and music. Shifters loved to party. Normally, I loved a good party. Now? It was just more of an unwanted audience.

Stepping into to the main room, I straightened my shoulders and stiffened my spine. No way I was going to let them see how scared I was.

"Go on." The guard nudged me, and I walked forward.

The room I'd passed through earlier looked entirely different now, full of people and food and a band in the corner—it really was a party. It seemed like it'd been going for hours, with cups and plates everywhere.

Homesickness pierced me.

Sure, I still lived in Guild City, and I would never leave. But this part of it—the shifters' domain—had been my first home, and I missed it.

Anger heated my blood, giving me strength.

Good thing, too, because I caught sight of Lachlan then.

I'd seen him a few times on the street and ducked my head, but this was entirely different. He sat in the massive wooden chair by the fire, relaxed yet deadly. His massive form was draped gracefully, arms over the armrests and one ankle propped on a knee. He looked like the king he was—a warrior king. Sweaty and bruised from battle, he was a beauty, though a brutal one. The golden firelight flickered over his dark hair, making his green eyes look like shadowed emeralds as he studied me.

There was an eerie stillness about him, the kind that marked true predators. As the Alpha Wolf, he was the truest predator of them all. This post wasn't his by gift of his father—he'd earned it.

I swallowed hard and strode up to him, stopping ten feet from the chair. Throne, more like.

Even from this distance, his magical signatures hit me in the face. The scent of evergreen, the sound of a low growl, the taste of whiskey, and the feeling of a strong embrace. Protective. Or destructive, depending.

He was a man of contrasts, particularly his aura. Only the strongest supernaturals had auras, and his was wild. He was a core of fire surrounded by ice. Tightly leashed power, yet something inside him desperately wanted to be let free.

His wolf?

There was something…broken about him. But it also seemed like he'd welded himself back together, made himself stronger, somehow. Fucked up, but stronger.

My gaze finally met his, and a connection zipped between us, a zing of energy that crossed the air. Almost like my soul recognized him, and it scared the shit out of me.

He arched a dark brow. "Looked your fill?"

Like many of the shifters in this pack, his accent was Scottish. Our ancestral grounds were there, and he'd spent a lot of time in the Highlands as a child. I fought back a blush. "Not much to look at."

The words had been waiting a decade to come out, and damn, did they feel good.

The fact that they were a lie was beside the point.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, almost like he would smile. I found myself riveted by his mouth, far more interested than I should be.

He frowned, instead, then surged to his feet.

He was utterly massive, like a redwood built of muscle. The T-shirt that stretched across his shoulders was threadbare, as if it fought every day of its dumb life to hang on to him. If he hadn't been such a bastard to me all those years ago, I might have wanted to hang on to him, too.

As it was, he'd been horrid, and I hated him.

The fact that he looked nothing like the boy I once knew didn't matter. It didn't matter that it seemed like the weight of the world now rested on his shoulders.

Fear shivered through me as he approached.

Tension tightened the air between us, sending heat through me. I breathed shallowly, trying to get a hold of myself. The connection between us now felt more like an invisible wire, drawing us together by forces I didn't understand. My entire body was lit up like I'd eaten fairy lights.

What was this feeling?

His gaze traveled over me. Did he feel it, too? Did he recognize me?

He frowned again as he looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my magically enhanced pointed ears.

Look all you like, buddy. They're not going anywhere.

Unless he took my necklace off.

He glanced over my head at the party going on behind me and nodded. The music abruptly cut off, and I didn't need to turn around to know that people were quickly clearing out.

His word was law here.

"You're Eve. No last name."

"I don't have one."

"Hmm. You're the potion maker from town." He walked a circle around me, like a predator inspecting its prey. Every inch of me was wound so tightly, I could have snapped.

Did he really not recognize me? He hadn't said anything yet.

His voice was a low rumble from behind me. "You killed Danny."

"Are you fucking serious?" I spun to face him, knowing that one didn't curse at the Alpha. I didn't care, especially if he didn't recognize me. "We were in the middle of Pandemonium, for fates' sake, and you think I decided to murder him right there with a fast-acting potion?"

"You're good with potions, aren't you?"

My temper surged. "Good enough to know the difference between fast-acting and slow and not to mess it up. You have some of my things, by the way. I'd like them back."

"Maybe." He gave me a long look, clearly searching for something.

His gaze sent a rush of nervous heat over me, as if my body didn't know how to react to him. I hated it.

He stepped up to me, his evergreen scent wrapping around me. I breathed shallowly through my mouth, determined to like nothing about him. He stopped two feet from me, and every hair on my body stood on end.

"Why are you hiding your signature?" he murmured. "Your scent is off."

Shit.

It was possible for powerful supernaturals to repress some of their magical signature, and he was right—I was doing just that. My natural signature was so unusual that it risked giving me away.

I shrugged. "I'm just not that powerful. It's why I focus on potions. Making up for my shortcomings."

"I sincerely doubt that." His voice purred over my skin, threatening yet sexy.

I fucking hated him.

I fucking hated myself for wanting him.

"Well, it's true." I crossed my arms.

"It's all very suspicious, don't you think?" he asked. "You're hiding something about your magic, and you came here with a bracelet full of potions and an envelope full of cash. You used one of those potions to knock out my guards."

I swallowed hard. "I always wear the bracelet. It's not like I put it on so I could use it against your pack."

He gave a low laugh. "And you've got nothing to say about the money?"

"Coincidence."

"Was it for Danny?"

"No."

"I'm not sure I believe you. Why shouldn't I just toss you back in that dungeon right now?"

My heart raced. "That isn't fair. I deserve a trial. Guild City has rules."

"Not rules that touch us."

Damn it, he was right.

The Council of Guilds served as the central government for Guild City, and though the shifters technically sat on the council, they were subject to different rules. The pack—and the Alpha—would never consent to being ruled by outsiders. They ran according to their own laws, and things were different here. You could feel it in the air as you stepped onto their turf.

We are not like the others.

It might as well have been their motto. Instead, it was Urram, Misneachd, Dìlseachd, Scots Gaelic for Honor, Courage, Loyalty.

Which meant that I was on my own.

My heart raced, fear propelling me. "I didn't do it. Let me prove I'm innocent, because locking me up won't help if the killer plans to do it again."

"How are you qualified to solve a murder?"

My mind raced. "I'm an excellent potion maker. I can analyze the poison that killed him. And I'm friends with Carrow Burton, leader of the Shadow Guild and the city's number one sleuth. She solves crimes for a living."

"I know of her."

"Then you know she's good. And so am I. Best potion maker in town. Give me a chance, and I'll prove my innocence." It was my only hope.

He studied me for a long moment, and it felt like he could see straight into my soul.

My mind raced as I tried to come up with reasons for him to let me go. If I could prove my innocence, maybe I could even get my money back. "The potion that killed Danny is one of your best clues, and I can help identify it and maybe lead us to the killer. You need me."

"Maybe." He walked around me, back toward his throne, and I turned to watch him go. He picked up a circle of golden metal that I hadn't noticed slung over the chair arm and returned to me.

His stride was relentless, and in seconds, he was right in front of me, so close that I could smell him. Earthy and dark, the sweat of the fight wasn't a bad smell. No, I liked it.

"You can prove your innocence," he said, "but you'll wear this." He moved so quickly that I didn't see it coming. One moment, I was standing there, totally normal, and the next, I was wearing a golden collar around my neck.

"What the hell?" I reached up for it, trying to yank it off. The damned thing didn't budge. Anger seethed through me.

A collar. That bastard had put a collar on me. Like a dog.

Old anger and hurt surged to the surface.

I'd never wanted to hex anyone so badly in my entire life, and I wasn't even a witch. When this was over, I was going straight to the Witches' Guild to learn how to hex his balls off.

"It's just a tracking collar," he said. "Nothing dangerous."

Not dangerous until he decided to come find me and kill me if I didn't solve this murder quickly enough. I grimaced and lowered my hand. "You're a bastard."

He nodded, his gaze flashing with the heat and ice that I'd seen in his aura. "As long as you understand that, we're good. Don't try to run, because I will find you. Don't try to take it off, because you can't. Until you prove your innocence, you're mine."

You're mine.