Chapter 14

Chapter

Fourteen

Destin

I moved closer to the table. Lana followed, her eyes fixed on the spread laid out before us. It was a thing of beauty, dark wood polished to a mirror finish. It stood in stark contrast to the haze around us, and the food .

The feast stretched across the table like something out of a dream. Roasted meats glistening with juices, platters of vegetables seasoned with herbs. Grapes, figs, and pomegranates spilled from silver bowls, and baskets of bread, still warm and fragrant, lay nestled between soft cheeses. The dark wine in crystal decanters shimmered, its scent heady and rich. Hunger clawed at me.

Lana hovered beside me, her gaze locked on the spread. "If this is a trap, it's the prettiest one I've ever seen," she murmured, her still trembling fingers brushing the edge of the table. "Do you think it's safe?" Lana asked, her voice low and uncertain.

I shrugged, the gnawing ache in my belly clouding my judgment. "There's only one way to find out." I reached for a slice of meat. The moment it hit my tongue, the flavor burst like fire, smokey and rich, perfectly salted. A groan slipped from my throat before I could stop it. It wasn't just food—it was otherworldly.

Lana arched a brow, watching me carefully. "Well?"

I tore off another piece, chewing slowly to savor it. As if that was answer enough.

She hesitated for a second longer, then grabbed a hunk of bread and bit into it. The sigh she let out was almost indecent. "If this kills us, at least we'll die happy."

I laughed—a rare sound that surprised even me—and reached for more. A slice of pear, slick with honey, followed by a handful of grapes so ripe they burst in my mouth. Every bite was indulgent, every flavor sharper than anything I'd experienced before.

We found the wine next. Lana poured it into crystal goblets with a grin, handing me one without a second thought. "To . . . whatever this is." She lifted her glass.

I clinked mine against hers. "To making questionable decisions."

The wine was velvety on my tongue, leaving a slow burn in its wake. I drained half the glass in one go, the warmth spreading through my limbs, loosening muscles that had been wound tight for too long. Lana poured me another without asking, and we sat down on chairs that hadn't been there a moment ago but appeared as naturally as if they'd always belonged.

The food replenished. Bread slathered with soft cheese, roasted vegetables drizzled with oil, wine refilling faster than we could drink it. Each bite left me craving more, and we indulged like we hadn't eaten in days.

"So." Lana sighed between bites, her eyes twinkling with something playful. "Tell me about you. I mean, the real you. Not the wild, grumpy lone wolf that plays with traps."

Grumpy? I leaned back in my chair, rolling the wine on my tongue. "What do you want to know?"

She drew a breath. "How did you end up there? In the woods alone?"

I shrugged, setting my goblet down. "It's a long story."

"We've got time." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, and for the first time, I didn't mind the attention.

"I was born into Stikine Pack."

She frowned. "I've never heard of it."

I scoffed. "Count yourself lucky."

"Not a good experience, then."

I shook my head. "My alpha was a brutal bastard. He was obsessed with control. Every breath we took had to be by his rules." The words flowed out of me with no resistance. It felt strange to say so much so easily.

"So you left."

That was a simplified version of events, but even though expressing myself felt easy in that moment, I didn't relish telling that story. How I'd battled my way out. How my mother had refused to come with me. Kael's and my story weren't all that different.

"I'm sorry." Her tongue flicked over her lips, and heat flashed under my ribs. My pulse kicked up, and my wolf stirred, prowling just beneath the surface. I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the way my skin prickled. Every movement she made pulled at me, tugging at something primal.

"What about you?" I asked, hoping the words would ground me.

She considered the question, her head tilting slightly, exposing the curve of her neck. My gaze locked on the delicate line, and my wolf growled low in my mind. What the hell was happening to me?

"Up until a year ago, I would've said my life wasn't dramatic," she answered.

"It is now?"

Lana shrugged, and reached for a piece of smoked meat. Her arm brushed mine, setting my nerves on fire. My fingers twitched, and I clenched my hands into fists, willing myself to stay still.

She placed the meat in her mouth. "I'm sure you've heard about what happened in Kitimat."

I forced myself to focus on her words, not the way her scent was wrapping around me. Earthy and warm. It was becoming impossible to ignore. I cleared my throat. "Rumors have made it up our way."

She patted the dagger on her hip, and my gaze dropped to the curve of her waist, lingering longer than I meant to. My wolf rumbled, pushing against my control, and I shifted in my seat to put some distance between us.

"They're now combined with what used to be my pack, Black Lake," she said.

I'd heard about Kitimat's alpha. I'd even found him up in our territory once. "And after seeing what you did, you still believe pack life is the answer?" The words slipped out, and even I was surprised I asked the question. Of course she did. She was still tied to her pack. She was here, searching for the relics of a new one.

Lana took another swig of wine, the movement drawing my attention to her lips. My eyes followed the path of a drop of red as it clung to the corner of her mouth. My wolf growled again, louder this time, and I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heat spreading through my chest. Lower . . .

"We believe the same, I think," she said softly. I frowned, focusing on her words, but it was nearly impossible. "You want to help shifters," she continued. "What you do in the mountains is admirable, Destin, but you're only one wolf. You can't help everyone. A good pack can do that, and our job isn't only to protect our own."

I tore a piece of bread from the loaf on the table, needing something to do with my hands. Her words hung in the air between us. I shoved the bread into my mouth, chewing slowly, trying to block out the way her presence was seeping into me, making it impossible to focus.

"Humans," I muttered, forcing the word out through clenched teeth. "Right. Because they've been so understanding of our kind in the past."

I grabbed a slice of cheese, tearing into it with more aggression than necessary. My jaw worked, the sharp flavor doing little to distract me from the ache building beneath my skin. I needed to get a grip. "You live near them?" I asked. Up north, the only time I ran into humans was on purpose—which was never.

"I'm a teacher. I see them every day." She smiled. "I wanted to make a difference."

A wave of grief and guilt hit me, sharp and unexpected. It wasn't mine. I blinked, trying to push it back, but it clung to me, heavy and suffocating. "Doesn't seem like it's making you happy," I said, more bluntly than I intended.

Her eyes snapped to mine. "Why would you say that?"

I swallowed, suddenly too warm despite the cool air. I picked up my goblet, swirling the wine inside, watching the dark liquid spin. The truth slipped out before I could stop it. "I can feel what you feel."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

I exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. My wolf grumbled, restless under my skin, urging me to retreat, but there was no way to backtrack now. "I can sense emotions—anger, fear, joy. It's not something I can control."

Her gaze sharpened, and the intensity of her focus sent a shiver down my spine. "You're psi?"

I nodded, ignoring the strange swirling in my gut. Admitting it out loud made it feel too real, too exposed. Why was I telling her this? It wasn't unheard of for wolves to have special abilities, but this one . . . I'd been taught too many times to count that it wasn't appreciated.

"What do you feel from me?" she asked, leaning in slightly.

I hesitated, every instinct telling me to shut this down. Shifters didn't like their emotions laid bare, and I knew better than to dig where I wasn't invited. But Lana's expression was open, curious, and I couldn't seem to resist. "You want to know?"

She didn't answer, just waited, her eyes locked on mine. My wolf rumbled, more alert than ever, and I fought the urge to lean closer, to close the space between us. I chose my words carefully. Shifters didn't enjoy hearing that someone could see pieces of them they hadn't shared willingly. I kept my observations strictly linked to the last two minutes of conversation.

"You're sad when you think about teaching," I said. "And you feel guilt."

Her lips parted slightly, and the sight of it made my pulse jump. "The school year is starting," she whispered. "I'm not there."

My wolf growled again, louder this time, and I felt the sharp edge of desire coil in my gut. Every movement she made—every tilt of her head, every flick of her tongue—was driving me closer to breaking. I adjusted in my seat, trying to find some relief, but there was no escaping it. She was in my head, under my skin, and the slow burn of the wine wasn't?—

I blinked and glanced down. The wine. The food.

Lana leaned closer, her scent wrapping around me, and my breath hitched. "What else do you feel?"

I dragged a hand through my hair, my skin buzzing with tension. "Lana, I think?—"

"Tell me," she whispered, and the softness in her voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I fought for breath. "I think the food is . . . affecting me." I swore under my breath, pushing my chair back and standing.

Lana blinked, her brows knitting together. "Affecting you how?"

I could've turned and showed her, but I didn't. If I saw her face, the last thread of my control was going to snap. The words felt thick in my mouth, my heart pounding harder. "I need to get some air. I need space. If I don't?—"

I cut myself off, shaking my head as I stalked away from the table toward the trees.

But then Lana's hand wrapped around my arm, and she gave a gentle tug. I stopped dead in my tracks. "If you don't what?"

My whole body shuddered. "If I don't touch you, I'm going to—" I didn't know what I was going to do. Search for something to destroy? Spontaneously combust?

She rounded me, her expression unreadable as she stopped and tilted her chin to meet my eyes. Her pupils were dilated. Her cheeks flushed.

Thank the gods.

It wasn't only me.