Chapter Two

Usually, I woke up a bit like an old man getting up off the couch. There was a lot of groaning and took far longer than it should have. Maybe it was because I didn't care for getting up, most of the time, but it was never easy.

Which was the first thing that clued me into a problem when I bolted out of bed as though I were one of those horribly annoying morning people.

I stared around me, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I found myself in my own room, standing beside my bed, with light pouring in through the open window.

I twisted, coming to a stop when I spotted someone in the room. At first, they seemed like just a shadow, a form I couldn't identify. Fear hit me, as though such a shadow were beyond terrifying. As my brain woke up fully, I recognized the person.

And immediately found myself even more confused.

"Harrison?"

The blond man sat in the chair before my desk, staring back at me as though it were perfectly normal for him to sit there and watch me sleep, or like he had any good reason to be here, in my bedroom.

I opened my mouth to say something rude when the memories from the night before crystalized in my head, reminding me of what had happened.

The fear and pain that had swarmed me back then threatened to overwhelm me again.

"Breathe slowly," Harrison said.

I wanted to snap at him, but the panic beating at me wouldn't allow it, so instead I tried to do as he said. I leaned forward, bracing my hands on my knees as I tried to draw air in slowly.

And fuck him, because it helped.

"What happened?" I asked when my throat loosened enough to let me speak.

"You were attacked."

"Yeah, I figured that much."

"How do you feel?"

I rolled my eyes at the way he asked me something without answering my question. "I feel great. Can't you tell?" I twisted my head, still bent forward, to glare at Harrison, who hadn't moved in the least. "Besides, you already know how I feel, don't you?"

"No. I told you before—I can't feel your thoughts or emotions."

"Then how did you know to tell me to breathe slowly?"

"Because you panting like a racehorse was a fairly obvious indicator."

"Rude. Besides, you try to get cardio in however you can when you're as busy as I am."

He twisted his head, glancing over at my bed. Despite the fact he must have put me in there, he had evidently left the vibrator in its place, where it still sat there like a joke.

"It's called self-care," I snapped, then picked up the vibrator and tossed it into the drawer in the nightstand. "So who the hell was that last night?"

"I don't know who it was."

"Then it was pure luck that you showed up?" I frowned, feeling as if I were making far too many leaps in my thought process. "Wait, did you scare him off?"

Harrison nodded. "Yes, I did. And as for why I came, it was because I've been searching for specific blasts of mind power. I tracked it there."

"And me being there was just dumb luck?" I thought back to what had happened, then shuddered as I allowed myself to sit on the end of the bed. "Maybe luck was the wrong word."

He didn't smile, as though that were not funny at all. It felt a little harsh, but I supposed everyone was a critic when they wanted to be.

I sighed, trying to ignore the pain in my head and the way my stomach rolled and my knees still shook. It was hard to tell myself I wasn't there anymore. The memories of living there, in the trailer…the fear and panic still existed inside me, bouncing around and threatening to pull me under.

"You seem to often end up in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said. "However, I doubt you'll have another issue."

"Really? Because the asshole said he'd see me again."

That got Harrison's attention. His focus snapped onto me so strongly, I flinched. Even with that, he didn't lighten his expression in the least. "He said that?"

I nodded. "He said he'd never found anyone like me before, that he wanted to see what I tasted like." I shuddered at the phrasing, at the way he'd said it, the sickening lust inside it. I still didn't really understand what he'd meant, but I knew really fucking well it spelled nothing good for me.

Harrison dropped his gaze to the floor as though thinking. "He won't target you again."

"You say that like you know him."

He shook his head. "I only meant that people who do this typically do whatever they wish and move on. The victim rarely survives, but I have never heard of someone actually returning to the same victim more than once."

"Which tells me you know exactly what happened."

"It isn't your business."

I poked myself in the temple and winced as soon as I did it. Still sensitive . "Seeing as someone just took a lovely little stroll through my brain, I feel like that makes it my business, don't you?"

Harrison stood, his actions slow and bored, as though he'd already grown tired of this conversation and me. "No, I don't, any more than someone who gets splashed by a puddle during a chase still has no business in the chase. If you are awake now, you will recover, so no lasting harm was done. Drink water with salt to help you recover more quickly." He nodded once, then turned to walk out.

"Wait one minute." I caught his arm, annoyed by the fact he felt it was okay to walk in here and just drop shit like that. Clearly, he was involved in this nonsense, and now he thought I'd just ignore it all? That I'd pretend it hadn't happened? "You can't just leave like that."

He didn't turn around fully, instead twisting his neck enough to peer over his shoulder at me. "I believe I can. This is also a poor way of showing thanks. I believe this is the second time I have saved you."

I opened my mouth to argue, then snapped it shut. He was right, no matter how much it annoyed me. He'd saved me once before, when he'd realized I had hidden in that box as a crow during a council meeting, when he'd snuck me out safely. Now he'd apparently scared off the fucker who had attacked me.

Knowing that didn't help, though, since I still had no idea who that someone was, or even why it had happened.

"I called someone over to clean up the mess. Your neighbor's body will be discovered later today and they will rule her death a suicide."

"Body?" The word hit me hard, the acknowledgment that my neighbor hadn't survived it.

Why had I, then? Because Harrison had interrupted him, or because of what I was?

Harrison nodded but showed no signs of sympathy, as though he didn't give a fuck about her death or my feelings on the subject. "Most don't survive such an attack. Humans never do, and most spirits who survive the initial don't do so…whole. That you are not a raving madwoman says you did, however."

"Or maybe it's harder to see, given how I normally act?" I let out a weak laugh as I released him, shaken to the core by the realization of how close to death I'd been.

He paused, as though considering just how to handle this. Was he thinking about saying something else? Comforting me? I couldn't imagine that, which was why when he nodded one last time, then walked out, it didn't shock me.

The opening and closing of the front door echoed up the stairs, telling me Harrison had left. My home, the place I normally loved, where I felt like I could let my guard down, suddenly didn't feel nearly as comforting as it had before.

My little piece of personal heaven, my den, my nest—it felt trampled upon. Even though that shadow hadn't come in here, it seemed tainted, like he'd touched it and ruined it all at once. The idea made me sick, made me want to scrub the place top to bottom, but I knew that wouldn't help.

It didn't matter how much I did, how I cleaned, how I bleached it all, it wasn't my home that had gotten dirtied.

That shadow hadn't put his filthy hands on my home, but on my mind, my past, my memories and my emotions. He'd riffled through them, watching them as though they were his own personal form of entertainment.

I slid to the floor, my body weak and my mind in chaos. I'd always felt like no matter what happened, my mind was my own. It was the only place I could have complete control, the only thing I knew was mine and mine alone, but that shadow?

He'd taken that security and torn it away, he'd slipped into my memories and that fact terrified me.

He'd tainted the one thing that truly mattered to me.

What an asshole.

* * * *

I scraped the butter knife across the toasted bread, smearing the jelly over it all. It was one of those fancy jellies they called fruit spreads with little bits of actual fruit in it, but I could forgive Galen for that.

"You know, sneaking into a werewolf's house is—"

"Dangerous—I know. The real question is why do you only buy this weird healthy stuff?"

He glanced at the jar then shook his head. "It's made with no added sugars."

"Watching your weight?" Even as I asked, I glanced back at him, rewarded with a look at a body that didn't need to lose a single damned pound— lucky bastard.

"Sugar's bad for you."

"You're immortal. Why do you care?"

"Immortal or not, unhealthy food leaves you feeling unhealthy. Also, don't you think it's rude to complain about the food you're stealing?"

"Stealing is rather extra, don't you think? Mi casa es su casa , right?"

He pressed his lips together, then shook his head as if deciding that arguing with me was far from worth it. It had taken him a long time to come to that decision, but I felt a little pride at the fact he'd finally gotten there.

Instead of arguing, he moved past me and to the fridge. He pulled out a large gallon container and poured the dark liquid into a mason jar, adding ice at the end. "We'll eat outside." He didn't ask my opinion, just carried the drink past me and set it on the table out back.

I finished making the toast, put the jar back into the fridge, then followed Galen out.

He'd left the drink at an open spot, suggesting it was for me. I took him up on the offer, then tried the drink.

It made me smile, the familiar flavor of the sweet tea calming. Despite the chill of December and the light sweater I had on, there was something so comforting about the cold tea that lingered in my mouth even after I swallowed.

"Thanks," I offered, my voice soft, meaning more than just the tea.

He had no idea what else I meant, of course. I hadn't let him in on the little run-in with that shadow and Harrison last night. He'd only worry and bitch and moan—and I sure didn't love those sounds.

However, just coming here made me feel better, like the filth that still seemed stuck in my mind couldn't touch me here.

"You promised me before that you'd see me the next day."

I took a bite of the toast, taking far longer to chew it than I needed to, just to buy time. When I swallowed, I considered taking another bite just to procrastinate more.

"Grey…" Galen said, the name one hell of a warning.

I set down the toast on the plate, giving in. "I wasn't ready."

"You should have answered my calls, at least."

"If I did that, you'd know something was wrong with me." I flashed him a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Except, Galen didn't seem all too willing to play along. His gaze moved down from my face to my neck, lingering on where I knew scars still rested. Despite Kelvin's little trick not quite working out, the marks hadn't gone away.

"Maybe you've been busy with Kelvin." Galen's tone was flat, as though he tried very hard not to show any feelings that might frighten me. It made me wonder just what rested beneath that carefully curated exterior.

And no matter how much I wanted to prod at him, how I wanted to play up the clear upset he had, I didn't.

Was this what it felt like to grow up? Or maybe I'd just had such a rough night I lacked the energy.

"No. I haven't seen or spoken to Kelvin since the trial." I laughed softly. "He hasn't tried to contact me, either."

Galen narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you his thrall?"

"Not really. You were there—you saw that I didn't become a Grave."

"You might not be a Grave, but that doesn't mean you aren't bound to him." Galen leaned forward, moving so slowly it felt like a joke, as though he wanted to ensure I could pull back if I wanted to. "The fact that these marks remain tell me that he created some sort of a bond."

I shivered at the stroke of his fingers against the marks. Why did that feel so damn good? As though some line connected those marks right to my clit? My voice came out breathy as I responded. "I can't form bonds like that because of what I am."

"Maybe not a normal bond, but that doesn't mean there isn't any. Be careful, Grey. You have no idea what a bond like that could do to you—or what Kelvin might do because of it."

I snorted. What exactly did he think Kelvin was? Some romantic idiot? "Yeah, well, seeing as he hasn't reached out at all, I don't think there's much to worry about there."

He blew out a long breath, his shoulders drooping in something that almost seemed like relief.

It made me frown. "Why are you so happy about that?"

"I didn't like you going to him," Galen admitted softly. "After I'd offered, and you rejected me, the idea of you choosing him and binding yourself to him didn't sit well." He refused to meet my gaze, instead staring at the floor, until he let out a quiet chuckle. "I probably sound pretty pathetic, don't I?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted, charmed despite my best efforts. Something about Galen sounding like a jealous teenage boy was rather sweet, to be honest. "Look—I didn't go to Kelvin, either." I paused, then shrugged. "Well, I went to the vampires to find the real killer, and he caught me when I was there. In the end, when it seemed like there weren't any other ways out, Kelvin made me his thrall all on his own."

Galen lifted his gaze to mine then, a darkness in his eyes that seemed so at odds with his youthful face. "You're telling me he forced that on you? That he made you a thrall by force?"

I froze in the face of that anger, the threat his words made obvious.

As quickly as he'd startled me, though, he jerked his gaze from mine and stared off, as though giving me a bit of space. It let me swallow once and shake off the nerves from seeing him like that.

Somehow it still startled me each time I glimpsed that other side of him, the Spirit that rested inside him. It wasn't him, was nothing like his normal personality, and I damn well knew it. It meant those times when it slipped free, I had to come to terms with the truth—that he wasn't just one man, but two different souls. Worse, as arguably the most powerful of the Weres, at least in this country, his wolf was far from something innocent and sweet.

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Acknowledging his apology would have forced me to admit he'd bothered me, so I ignored the words and moved on. "Kelvin was trying to do what he thought was best."

"So you'll just forgive him for trying to take your free will away?"

"Forgive? Fuck, no. I just don't think you need to get so pissed. I can get mad all on my own, thank you very much."

Galen snorted, the sound breaking some of the tension between us. "You never change, you know that? Even when you're in trouble, when you need help, you always refuse to take any. You are, without a doubt, the most frustrating person I know."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You really shouldn't."

"But if I didn't take insults as compliments, then I'd never get any compliments," I pointed out before picking up the toast and taking another bite, savoring the contrast between the crispy bread and sweet, cold jelly. Maybe I needed to take back my complaints about the healthy fruit spreads he used, because this was actually pretty tasty.

We didn't speak for a while as I ate my make-shift breakfast and drank the sweet tea he'd given me. It felt oddly comfortable, as though none of the last few weeks had happened. I'd never gotten put on trial, hadn't almost gotten myself killed—a few times—hadn't ended up on the council.

Nope, it was just me and Galen here. Me being a nuisance and him somehow not killing me over it, just like old times.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

I could have acted as though I had no idea what he meant, but why drag it out anymore? "Ruben said I could still be a courier."

"Even with your position on the council?"

"I'm the leader of a group of one. I guess no one's really worried about me causing problems—at least, no more than usual. Besides, I need the money. Mama needs liquor and porn, and those don't come cheap."

Galen rolled his eyes but didn't respond to my joke, which was only partly a joke. "So when will you start?"

"Ruben put me on contingency. I can work when I want to. I'll probably go back in a week or so."

"You could just come here."

"Are you offering to buy me liquor and porn? Because if so, I want to see you go in and buy it." I smirked at the thought of the youthful looking and strait-laced Galen walking in anywhere to buy such things. It would be a sight worth partaking in, for sure.

He looked my way again, his expression serious. "I'm serious, Grey. You wouldn't have to work, to deal with the Justice Department. You could stay here and it would take away most of your problems."

I tapped my neck. "Didn't this teach us that that sort of thing doesn't work?"

"So you don't officially join my clan? I don't care. I'll still protect you."

And just like that, I sighed, leaning back.

It always came down to this, didn't it? Every person in my life seemed to want the same thing—to own me in some way. They wanted me to give up what I had and accept a place by their side, like that was winning the lottery. They thought me trading my life for theirs was a step up I should take gratefully.

And why did it still disappoint me so much? Why was it still so upsetting to hear that? Maybe because I'd taken so much time trying to stand on my own, because I cherished that freedom so much, so when the people who should have understood me didn't?

It hurt.

But I couldn't explain that because it felt like bearing a fresh wound, like admitting to my own weaknesses, and I hated that.

So I did what I always did. I plastered a smile on my lips and pretended like nothing hurt me.