Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CARTER
“Angelique, I’d love for you to meet Carter.
” Rose beams as she gestures between us, her eyes sparkling as if she’s both proud and nervous.
The tall, lithe blonde moves toward us with the kind of effortless grace that comes from knowing the entire room bends to her will.
And why wouldn’t it? She owns the place.
“It’s a pleasure,” I say, inclining my head politely. “I’ve heard great things from Rose.”
Angelique’s lips curve. “It is I who should be praising her.” She sweeps a hand around the lounge. “The house is packed, there’s a line down the block, and this place looks better than any concept we discussed.”
“Rose, true to her name, makes beauty bloom,” I add, my voice low but steady. I brush my knuckles lightly against the back of her hand, feeling the heat that floods her skin. “Have you tried her macarons?”
“They were divine,” Angelique replies, eyes alight. “I’ll need them catered again. But what do you mean by hers?” She glances at Rose.
Rose’s gaze drops, her cheeks pinkening. “There was, um… an incident with the bakery. So Carter and I made them ourselves.”
“Rosemary Sinclaire,” Angelique chides gently, catching her hands with a laugh, “what other hidden talents are you keeping from me? Aside from this handsome wolf shifter Charlee says is always at your side?”
Rose’s blush deepens, and she stammers, “It wasn’t meant to be a secret—I had things handled, but—”
“She did more than handle it,” I cut in smoothly, unwilling to let her minimize herself. My arm brushes hers, steady, grounding. “Rose pulled off in a week what most people couldn’t do in a month. Tonight is her vision—her dedication—that’s why it’s a success.”
Angelique’s eyes soften as she pats Rose’s hands.
“Take ease, little witch. Your wolf is right. This night would not be the triumph it is without you. Most would have buckled under that pressure, but you”—she gestures toward the crowd—“you kept your head and played your team to their strengths. That’s leadership. ”
Rose dares a quick glance up at me, her grin wide, eyes shining with a pride she tries to hide. “Thank you. Truly. This opening might be the talk of the town. People will come from everywhere to see your lounge.”
“You, my dear, will be the talk of the town.” Angelique gestures discreetly toward a group across the room. “I’ve had at least five people already ask for your contact.”
“Five? Me?” Rose’s voice pitches higher in disbelief.
I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Told you,” I murmur, low enough that only she hears.
Angelique raises a brow. “What do you think, little witch? I have projects all over the globe. Should I keep you to myself?”
Rose’s fingers twist nervously in front of her. “I’d be delighted to do more projects with you.”
“Good.” Angelique squeezes her arm, then glances at me. “Do you mind if I steal Rose away? There are people desperate to meet her.”
“Be my guest,” I reply, though my chest tightens as Angelique whisks her away, my mate glowing under the praise. I watch her—head high now, confidence finally breaking through her meekness—and can’t help thinking she’s never looked more beautiful.
Only when they disappear into the crowd do I turn back to the bar. Charlee’s waiting with a whiskey on ice, sliding it toward me with a knowing grin.
I toss back the drink, the burn clawing down my throat until it pools warm in my belly.
The glass is empty save for the single half-melted ice sphere that clinks softly as I twirl it.
I slide the glass down the bar; Charlee snatches it without looking, already turning back to the crowd with the sleek confidence of a predator who owns the room.
Muscles ripple beneath his rolled cuffs as he pours two pints and slides them to a pair of shifters.
“What can I get you all tonight?” he asks, a grin tugging one corner of his mouth.
“The house special!” the gathered crowd shouts over the music from the stage.
He arches a brow as he sets a silver-and-crystal cocktail shaker on the bar to a round of hoots and whistles.
With practiced ease, he splashes a medley of spirits from the bottles behind him, adds a dash of edible glitter powder, then snaps on the lid and sends the shaker arcing into the air.
It spins, scattering glints of turquoise, gold, and amber beneath the lounge’s low lights, and for a heartbeat every eye in the room tilts upward to watch it drop neatly into his waiting grip. “Enjoy.”
He lines half a dozen coupe glasses on the counter and fills them to the brim before the crowd erupts in cheers and applause.
I turn away from the spectacle, leaning back against the bar, my fingers brushing the counter.
My eyes immediately find my mate across the room, her head tossed back in laughter as she points toward the band and then around at various features of the lounge.
She’s practically glowing—and it’s more than the subtle lighting.
She catches my gaze as though she feels the burn of my eyes on her skin.
Her cheeks flush, and she bites her bottom lip before breaking the contact and returning to her companions.
I could think of better ways to spend time with our mate right now.
While I don’t disagree, there’s plenty of time to explore the scenario already running through my mind.
“She really is something, isn’t she?” Charlee says from behind me, and it’s all I can do not to flinch. Had I let my guard down so much I hadn’t even heard him approach?
“Yeah, she is.” I glance over my shoulder.
“She’s going to have her hands full after this. Everyone will be knocking at her door. She’ll have opportunities to travel the world.”
“She deserves it.” The words scrape out of me, softer than I intend.
His bushy, peppered brow arches as he pours, amber liquid catching the dim light. “And you? What’s your place in all this?”
“I’ll go anywhere she goes,” I answer as I take the proffered glass. But as soon as my fingers curl around the cold surface, a sour twist of anxiety knots in my chest.
Something isn’t right.
Rose.
I spin around in my chair, eyes darting across the floor, but she’s gone—vanished. My heart hammers like a drum, each beat igniting the wolf beneath my skin. He prowls, tense and restless, drawn by a fierce, urgent need to find her, protect her.
My little mate.
“Carter?” Charlee’s voice slices through the animalistic haze clouding my mind, and I whip around, senses on fire.
“Did you see where she went?” I growl, hands tipped with claws, knuckles whitening on the bar.
“No. I’m sorry, mate. Perhaps she stepped into the back. I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Thank you.” I toss back the whiskey, fire burning down my throat, then snap to my feet. That’s when it hits me—the acrid, familiar sting of his stale cologne. Her ex.
My mate.
Rage claws at my chest.
Rip him limb from limb.
“We can’t just go around disembodying people,” I mutter, forcing control as I barrel down the back hall, following the trail of scent.
Every nerve hums, shifter senses sharp as razors, until I hear it—her voice, a door creaking open, then slamming shut, muffled shouting spilling into the corridor.
My pulse spikes, wolf teeth gnashing beneath my skin, desperate to hunt, to protect.
The door slams against the wall. My eyes drop to where the scumbag’s hands are wrapped around her wrist.
“Let me go, Jett,” she snaps, tugging against his grip, voice sharp and defiant.
“Just give me another chance,” he pleads, falling to his knees. The corners of her eyes glimmer with unshed tears as he jerks her arm, and something inside me snaps.
I’m on him in a heartbeat, gripping the back of his T-shirt and yanking him upright. My fist clamps down on his wrist with bone-crunching pressure that makes him flinch.
“Let me go!” he yells, struggling against me. “What do you think you’re doing? Get your hands off me!”
“You have three seconds to release my girlfriend before I break your wrist,” I snarl. “Ten seconds to get out of my sight before I rip you limb from limb.”
He deserves it. He hurt her.
“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs, trying to fight free.
“One,” I murmur, forcing patience through the roar in my chest.
You’re being too soft on him.
He struggles again.
“Two.” I tighten my grip; his face blanches, slick with sweat.
“Fine! Let me go!” He drops Rose and crumples to the ground. He scrambles upright and spits on the pavement. “Good luck. That bitch will ruin your life.”
Something primal snaps. My wolf claws at the edges of my control. Instinct takes over. I grab him by the neck and slam him against the building’s brick wall.
“What did you call my mate?” I growl in his ear, teeth bared, canines elongating, the hot surge of wolf fury pulsing through me like wildfire.
“That bitch,” he retorts, kicking at the ground, trying to wrench free. “She ruined my chance to showcase my art at the gallery! It would’ve changed everything for my career!”
“The gallery?” Rose stands tall beside me, voice cold and sharp. “The only reason they even considered you was because of me. After the stunt you pulled on our anniversary, I was done bending over backward for you.”
“Bending backward for me?” Jet sneers. “I did everything to get you back—wrote you letters, left you flowers. Hell, I even went down and purchased some dingy love charm, trying to win you back.”
“You left that nasty piece of dark magic in her yard?” I snarl, my fists tightening.
“What magic? What is he talking about Carter?” Rose’s brows furrow.
“That night I was at your house, I sensed magic that wasn’t yours when I checked outside. I got rid of it.”
I knew I should’ve told her when I’d found it, and my suspicions about who had left it, but there hadn’t been a good time.
“Oh—so you’ll get on your knees for anyone swinging a dick now?” Jett jeers as he jerks against my hold.