Chapter 13

A fter Archer and Joy left, I served a delicious dinner. Noah preferred his steak medium-rare, and I cooked his meal to perfection. All of that, of course, was not to pretend we didn't have a dysfunctional relationship. It was a matter of survival. The best way to avoid a fight was to do the things he liked.

Not saying a word, for one.

I smiled apologetically and let him do all the talking while internally mortified that Archer and Joy had witnessed everything. It was akin to someone seeing your dirty laundry on the floor or discovering you were a hoarder. Wolves were confident and strong, and they were undoubtedly shaking their heads and gossiping about me. Archer was probably saying how foolish I was to have spent all that money without permission.

"I'm glad we're getting out of this town," Noah said, reiterating my fear that we really were actually moving. "That other job offer fell through, but I've got something else lined up. It won't pay as much, but it's just temporary. Now I can keep my eye on you." After swallowing another bite, he said, "Your friend showed up at my job last night. Did he tell you that? He tried to maul me. He's lucky I didn't shift. My tiger would have ripped through that soft neck and killed him instantly." Noah finished his second steak, which he'd taken from my plate to teach me a lesson. "I don't want you seeing those people again. Do you hear me?"

After that, I didn't speak the rest of the night. I wondered how I could get out of this. It wasn't the first time I'd thought about leaving, but I kept trying to make it work. Time and time again, he would convince me that things would be different. And they were… for a while.

But my circumstances had changed. Before, I didn't have a cent to my name. Now that my father's books were selling, I had options. Or I did… until Noah insisted I hand over all the money.

The next morning, Noah instructed me to get everything out of the house and refunded before he got home. When I argued I didn't have a car, he pointed out that I didn't have any problem getting all that shit in the house to start with, so I could figure it out.

At work, the hours blurred by as I sold books, greeted customers, and struggled with a pounding headache for most of the day. The uncertainty of what to do about the gifts loomed like an ominous cloud, especially after he'd spent all morning convincing me that I had no loyalty or respect for him.

Was he right? What did people do in relationships? My father had never been in one, so what did I have to go by? A romance novel? A television show? And those were fictional human experiences, not Breed.

And certainly not Shifter.

No one from the Arrowhead pack came by the store. Maybe Joy didn't want to associate with me anymore. Even more plausible, she might not have wanted to get involved with a woman whose boyfriend had an explosive temper. What if I had gotten her in trouble with her Packmaster for being the one who encouraged me to spend ?

Noah planned to pick me up at eight, and I'd procrastinated myself into a corner. None of the retail stores did pickups. Hopefully after cooling off, Noah would see the light and change his mind about the gifts.

When it was near closing time, I jumped at a figure looming outside the door. Archer touched his palm to the glass.

After unlocking the door, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

"We're all up at the Rabbit Lounge. I walked over to check on you."

Stepping back, I let him in. Coconut wafted from his skin as he breezed by. Archer had on a black tee and sweatpants. His hair was styled forward and swished upward. I liked how his undercut allowed me to see his face. Archer had a genuine smile and warm demeanor, but behind his eyes, I sensed pain. It was as if I could see the light and the dark in a single glance.

"I'm sorry about last night. Noah doesn't like surprises. He didn't mean any of those things he said to you. That was my fault."

"You didn't do a damn thing."

I tilted my head to the side, eyes closing for a moment.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"My head is killing me. Probably from sleep deprivation."

He placed his fingertips on my temple. Then in a circular motion, he massaged. "Feels like a lot of tension. Have you been clenching your jaw? Relax. Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Just do it. Relax your jaw."

When I complied, he moved his fingers around like a Relic examining me.

"Yep. Just as I thought," he declared. "You have a serious case of Archeritis. That's what happens when you're exposed to an excessive amount of Archer Swift. It happens to the best of them."

I laughed and snapped my jaw shut.

He formed a claw over my head and used his fingertips to gently massage my pressure points.

Tension ebbed away, and my shoulders relaxed.

Archer put his hand down. "All better?"

I nodded.

"How was business today?"

"I made more than the first day," I admitted. "There were a few serious buyers, including Atticus."

"You don't sound excited. That's a big deal, Cici. That's huge! Not everyone earns as much later as they do on the grand opening." He stroked his bottom lip, reminding me of how soft it was. "How come I've never seen you at the Rabbit Lounge before?"

I shrugged. "We don't go out."

Archer frowned briefly before he quirked his eyebrow. "Any progress on that vision board yet?" He walked backward toward the rear of the shop.

"Don't look," I said, chasing after him.

Then he pivoted and took off.

Archer had an uncanny ability to make me smile in any situation. When he reached the back table, he stared up at my collage.

Only one thing had been added—a wolf.

When he looked over his shoulder at me, his cheeks were flushed.

Arms crossed, I joined his side. "It's still a work in progress. Robyn said it's not good to rush—that I'd figure it out in time. I can add inspirational quotes, words, anything I want that means something."

His chin touched his shoulder, and with a soft gaze, he asked, "Are you okay? "

"I'm fine," I replied, wondering why he kept asking me that. Then I switched topics. "Have you ever been in love before?"

He turned his gaze forward. "No."

"The truth makes me want to hate romance novels, but they're the only place I can feel that hope and happiness. Relationships aren't easy."

"Relationships aren't supposed to be as hard as yours."

"Is Joy in trouble?"

"For what?"

"It's just that nobody from your pack came by the store today."

"We had a lot going on at home." Archer faced me and sighed. "There's something you need to know, but I'm not sure if I should say it."

"Why?"

"Because you might already know. You might not care. Or maybe telling you could hurt you, and I don't want to hurt you, Cici."

"Why do you care if I get hurt?"

He reached out and brushed his thumb across my cheek, giving me instant butterflies. "Because I do."

I wanted to lean into his touch, but the look in his eyes concerned me.

"I'm not sure how to say this," he continued.

"Are you pregnant?"

He coughed once, as if choking. "Under normal circumstances, I'd laugh my ass off at that question. But…" He walked away. " Fuck. "

One thing I'd learned: nothing good ever started with the word fuck .

"Just tell me, Archer. You brought it up, so there's no going back. "

He leaned against the opposite wall and rubbed his forehead. "Krys and I drove to Austin yesterday to hang out. No, that's not right. I don't want to lie to you. We visited Noah's club."

I clenched my fists when I remembered Noah mentioning Archer tried to attack him. "For what reason?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Something seemed off, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Do you know what kind of club he works at?" Archer looked at me, eyebrows angled like a man forced to speak the truth.

"Just a dance club."

He bobbed his head. "That's one name for it. Another is a strip club. And yet another is a sex club. Lots of dirty shit goes on there. Sensory exchanges, kinky sex, and your boyfriend spends his time and money doing all that with his coworkers. He doesn't even go to a different club. The first five minutes I was there, he licked a woman between the legs."

A knife sliced through my heart. The contents of a two-year commitment with a man I thought I could trust spilled out.

Archer lowered his head. "I saw him go to a private room with a sex worker. He paid for lap dances, sensory exchanges, and spent a shitload of money. Apparently that's how he unwinds after work. He says he does it all the time to relax. I don't like telling you this, but you deserve to know the truth. He lies about working late so he can get off with those women."

I pivoted and stalked down the far aisle before stopping at the section on Vampire history. My heart was racing so fast that I struggled to catch my breath.

Archer appeared at the end of the aisle. "I thought maybe you knew and were turning a blind eye."

"You thought I knew?" I covered my face.

So that's what people thought of me. That I was the type of woman who didn't care. I'd put more work into our relationship, and if anyone cared, it was me .

Noah had sex with his coworkers? Repeatedly? Daily? He berated me for buying food and necessities when he was giving away his paycheck to sex workers? How many times?

The temptation to hurl books flashed in my mind.

"It sounds like you boys had a good time."

Drawing closer, he lowered his voice. "I didn't do any of that. We were just there."

Archer kept talking while two years of my life flashed before my eyes. The hopes and dreams of a na?ve girl who thought she'd found love. Even when things weren't perfect, I gave him all, knowing we would weather the storm and find a better life. It was as if my existence was cleaved in two—one half the before and the other the after .

Did he ever love me? Did I drive him away? Why was I never enough?

All this time, I'd beaten myself up for cheating once.

Once.

Meanwhile, Noah had made it a recreational activity. But if he wasn't happy, why was he always coming down on me about everything? If he didn't care, wouldn't it have been easier for him to leave?

"Is there anything else I should know?" I managed to say through my nebulous thoughts.

Archer swirled around and stared at the bookcase.

"Take me there," I insisted. "Tomorrow."

"The hell I will," he bit out. Then he filled his lungs with a breath and blew it out. "You don't believe me," he said, his tone now level and calm.

"How do I know you don't have ulterior motives? How can I trust anyone!" I shrieked.

"Shit," he breathed. "I knew I shouldn't have come here. Believe me, I don't have ulterior motives. The last thing I want is to get mixed up in all your drama. It's not my business, but I can't help myself. Krys was right. I'm a glutton for punishment."

When I bent over and gripped the shelf, my ponytail flipped to the front. "I'm going to be sick."

He put his hand on my back, and it made me jump.

"Don't touch me. Please… go." The dam I'd built was finally breaking, and an ocean of unbidden emotions was about to burst free if he didn't leave. I couldn't be this vulnerable in front of anyone. "I need to be alone," I said, my voice cracking. "Don't make me ask twice."

"Gotcha," he said softly. "But if you need anything, you know how to reach me."

Archer's hasty exit barely registered. What did he expect me to do with that information? I had nowhere to go, and on top of that, I was anchored to these books.

I ran my finger down the spine of one of my father's favorites, remembering how happy we once were. How easy my life had been. Then I thought about what I'd seen at the Arrowhead pack's house, and I wanted that happiness so much that I'd pasted a wolf on my vision board. Tears spilled down my cheeks. Robyn was right. Creating a visual of my dreams had redirected my focus these past days to what I wanted in life, not just what Noah wanted.

Once calm, I returned to the vision board and stared at it contemplatively for the next fifteen minutes.

I remembered when cutting out the wolf how I almost snipped off one of the legs. After deciding I'd inhaled too much of the glue, I banished Archer from my thoughts. A wolf could never love a horse.

And why did I keep thinking softly about Archer? Why did he tug at my heart like no one ever had?

Closing my eyes, I visualized a flowery meadow like the one behind Tak's house. I heard the thundering beat of my hooves on the soft earth as I galloped against the wind. Yet none of those visuals awakened my animal. She hadn't shifted in months. I'd seen Milly on one occasion about it, and she warned me that there were consequences to suppressing our instinct to shift. She suggested I work on figuring out why my animal wasn't coming out before it was too late. Because if she ever did emerge, she would be too wild and uncontrollable and might never let me shift back.

" Cecilia, " Noah sang from the door. "Where's my girl?"

With those words, I knew he was drunk.

He staggered to the back, knocking into a shelf and dislodging a few books. "Oops." He wheezed out a laugh.

In the time since I'd seen him this morning, I felt like an entirely different person.

"I stopped by the house," he said, his words as sharp as a razor's edge. "You didn't get rid of all that shit like I told you to. So I got rid of it for you. Including the beer, but I drank that." He approached the table and gripped the coffee machine. "What the fuck is this?"

"Coffee."

While shopping, I had gotten the idea that serving free coffee to the first customers of the day might be a fun gimmick. That way, I wouldn't have to run it all day long and have the smell permeating through the books. It seemed like an easy way to incentivize people to shop early instead of late.

Noah pushed at it. "It's a hundred fucking degrees outside, and you're serving hot coffee." He stepped in front of me and stroked my ponytail. "Look at what Miss Moneybags bought today. I bet you feel superior, throwing money in my face."

"It's for us ."

He jerked my ponytail. "I don't recall asking for rugs in the bathroom." His eyes skated up to the wall behind me. "What's that supposed to be?" He ripped it off the wall so he could hold it in front of his face.

"It's a vision board," I informed him, seething from the betrayal I had no right feeling.

I wanted to hate him, but how could I condemn him for doing the same thing I had done?

Because you didn't do it every single night for who knows how long , a voice answered. How many women has he slept with? Remember when his showering habits changed after moving to Storybook? What about the lipstick on his clothes that he always said was from hauling a rowdy girl out of the club? At least you felt guilty about your sin. Maybe you should start wondering how many nights he had sex with a woman and then came home and did the same with you.

Noah squinted at the pictures. "A wolf? Is that what you're envisioning every night?"

"Those are supposed to represent my dreams, Noah. Do you want to know what each one of them means?"

He barked out a laugh and twirled the cardboard. "Pie? You dream of pie? And books?" With a sharp motion, Noah ripped the image in two and gave me a look of reproach. "Your dreams are boring, Cecilia."

"Why do you have to shoot down everything I do? Don't you want me to be happy?"

He jerked his head back.

"I don't want to leave this town, Noah. I'm making good money, and I have nice friends."

"They feel sorry for you."

"Maybe they feel sorry for me because of you."

Noah advanced so fast I never saw it coming.

He gripped my throat. "Do you see what hanging around those wolves has done? It's contaminated your mind. Since when do you talk back to me?"

I knocked his arm away and stepped back. Perhaps survival instinct had been the only thing keeping me quiet, but something was surfacing that I could no longer contain—my voice.

"All you do is want, want, want ," he said. "You want this and you want that . I leave you alone for one day with money, and you squander it on junk like cookie jars and expensive electronics I didn't ask for."

"And what do you spend your money on? Huh? Strippers? What are you really working so hard for? A life with me? Because it looks like debauchery is on your vision board. You're buying women's bodies," I said, utterly disgusted by the look of anger on his face rather than surprise or confusion.

Noah's scowl evaporated. "Who the hell told you that?" Then he stroked his whiskers as if in deep thought. "It was that tripod, wasn't it?" He studied the ripped vision board and picked up the half with the wolf. "Did you fuck him?"

I backed up a step.

"You did, didn't you? You fucked a wolf. A three-legged wolf. No wonder that asshole shifted when I brought you up."

I rubbed my temple. "I can't do this anymore. Neither of us is happy. We were once, remember? Was that only an act?"

"Jesus. You're the most sheltered person I've ever met. I knew I had my work cut out for me, but I had no fucking idea. I figured if I brought you out to the country, I wouldn't have to worry about you running off and doing stupid shit." He flicked the cardboard at me. "You couldn't even give me your loyalty. On top of that, you're a shitty lay, baby. If you want to know why I spend money on women, it's because a man has needs. I only like sex two ways: rough and kinky or a submissive bitch. You know what I'm figuring out?" He drew closer. "I prefer it rough. Maybe you and I need to change things up. "

"You're drunk, Noah. Go home and sleep it off."

He scoffed. "Do you think you're going to sleep here for the night? I'm the one paying the fucking lease!"

"Then I'll find somewhere else to sleep."

When I turned away, he gripped my arm.

"You do that and I'll put every last book in a pile and set it on fire."

"Don't you dare!" I wrenched my arm away.

Noah was more intoxicated than I'd ever seen. Though his reflexes were slow, his hot temper made him unpredictable and dangerous.

As he advanced toward me, I walked backward.

Noah casually flicked a book onto the floor. "I'll do whatever I want," he said coolly, letting another drop, the pages bent and splayed. "It's time you finally understand who's the boss here. You need me. What do you think people would do if they found out your little secret?"

My blood ran cold.

"They would be all over you." He flipped another book onto the floor, still walking toward me. "Is that what you want? All these hungry wolves and bears clawing at your door? Do you know what happens to girls like you?"

When I reached the front, I stole a glance at the door. "We're not compatible anymore," I said, hoping he would back off.

"You have no money, no home, no car, and no books. Even if you had money, how long do you think it would last? You don't have a fucking clue how to be thrifty. Do you think you're a catch?" He laughed haughtily.

Every word hurt like a punch.

"You're a burden. You're barely tolerable to look at, you're insufferably boring, and you have nothing to offer anyone. It's time you learned what your value is. Do you want to know? Do you? Guess. "

"Stop."

His head bobbed to the side, and in his drunken stupor, he replied, "Zero. You're good for fucking in heat, and that's it. You get bonus points because nobody has to worry about knocking you up."

I slapped him so hard that the sting radiated down my fingers like an electric jolt. The second slap was even harder.

His face turned to the side, and my stomach dropped.

Noah's fist cracked against my face, spinning me completely around. The force knocked me against the counter, and I hit the floor, landing on my left side. Then he grabbed my ponytail and dragged me across the floor.

The pain in my face matched my head, and I reached up to grip his hands. My feet scrambled to get me in a standing position, but he was already pulling me outside. I scratched and clawed and gyrated my body until I flipped over and he lost hold.

"You're coming home with me!" Noah snared my wrist and dragged me across the parking lot. "No more Mr. Nice Guy."

I might have screamed, but I was dazed from him clocking me.

The fear of getting in his car galvanized me like an air-raid siren. Ignoring the pain, I dug my heels in the gravel and clawed a handful of rocks.

When his grip broke, I sprang to my feet and pitched rocks in his face like a baseball player. Noah howled in pain, his hand clutching his eye.

Seizing the moment, I kneed him in the groin and stumbled backward. Noah folded over.

"I'm gonna get you," he growled. In an unexpected move, he rushed me, gripped my hair, and swung me around until I slammed against the car.

Stunned, disoriented, my heart racing like a bullet, I yanked open the car door and felt around in his glove compartment for the knife he kept.

Don't hesitate , the voice said. Don't you dare hesitate.

As I palmed the knife and faced him, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't a killer. Regardless, if I cut him, he would shift immediately to heal, and I'd never met his tiger.

Noah's hands were braced on his knees as he reeled from the pain.

My hand trembled.

"What do you think you're doing with my knife?"

I glanced in the car, uncertain if his key was in there.

The reality set in that the knife wasn't large enough, and I didn't want to risk getting too close.

"Stay away from me," I warned him, backing toward the road. "Let me go."

"Don't do it, Cecilia. If you run, I will hunt you. My tiger will hunt you." He snarled, baring his teeth.

The glint in his eye set me running. Maybe it was animal instinct, but all I wanted to do was run. I barely felt my feet touching the ground as I shot down the road, terrified of his tiger chasing me. He was extremely intoxicated, though, so even if he shifted, his animal would be disoriented and sluggish.

Or would it?

The uncertainty kept me moving as the air beat in my lungs until I thought they would burst.

Headlights blinded me, and I flew in front of the vehicle.

"Please," I panted, staggering up to the driver's side door. "Help me."

A man with a mustache that curled at the ends rinsed me over with an icy gaze. "Who's your leader," he asked in a Southern drawl.

"I don't… I don't have one," I managed through breaths .

"And that's why you need one." His window rolled up, and he left me standing in the road.

Then it hit me like a sledgehammer: no one wanted to help a rogue. Why should they? Rogues shunned living in groups and lived by their own rules. No one wanted their problems.

Noah roared my name from a distance, and I took off with no intention of stopping until I found safety.

The Rabbit Lounge's neon sign blurred into view. When I glanced over my shoulder, I lost my footing and hit the ground, the knife tumbling out of view. My skirt ripped as I struggled to stand and get moving, but everything hurt. My face, my head, my hand, my lungs…

Now with a limp, I tore through the parking lot, panting and gasping for air as I flew into the bar. The music blared around me, a merry-go-round of lights, people boisterously chatting, and pool balls clacking.

Stumbling past tables, I kept my eyes centered on the bathroom—any place I could safely hide from the wrath coming my way.

A dull roar filled my head as adrenaline flowed through my veins. The grey-haired bartender mouthed what I could only guess were obscenities, and people holding beers and fruity cocktails were staring at me as if I were naked. It made me glance down just to make sure my clothes were on.

I rushed to the back, but as I entered the hall, someone caught me.

"Hey," a deep voice rumbled, putting a fright into me. "It's Montana. We met a couple of times at the house."

I barely registered his cowboy hat.

"Cecilia?" Robyn came into view, but my eyesight was blurred. "What happened?"

"Who did this?" Montana asked, his voice tightly controlled.

I panted, my chest aching, my head spinning, my throat dry .

He's coming. He's coming.

Robyn stood in front of me. "She's hyperventilating. Cecilia, breathe slowly."

Noah shouted my name, and I blacked out for just a moment. When I became aware of my surroundings, I was on the ground with Robyn and Montana over me.

"What the hell is going on?" Montana muttered.

They helped me to sit up, and when I caught sight of Noah's tiger, I shrieked.