12. Morgan
MORGAN
This is so fucking surreal.
I’m trying hard to wrap my head around the fact I’m in the Wild Wolves’ compound, surrounded by shifters .
Who all want me dead.
Probably.
My life is literally hanging in the balance, and yet I’m not freaking out. Maybe it’s shock? A delayed reaction to everything that’s happened in the last few days. It’s a lot to take in.
Part of me wonders if I’m still on that forest floor and this is all a hallucination.
“This way.” Lynx heads around the side of the main house. He slows his pace to match mine, and I’m silently grateful.
I feel a hundred times better than I did earlier, but I still tread carefully, not wanting a repeat any time soon. We walk side by side, close enough that his arm brushes mine, and I shiver at the contact.
He’s so warm.
And he smells good.
God’s sake, Morgan . What the fuck is wrong with me? Lynx said they’ll kill me if they don’t believe I’ll keep their secret, and here I am thinking about him like we’re on a date or something.
“Where are we going?” I ask, anything to get my mind off him.
The house looks big enough from the front, but as we round the side, I realise it’s even bigger than I thought.
There’s a patio that runs the width of the building.
There’s plenty of comfy-looking outdoor furniture and I wonder if this is some sort of meeting place.
Do they all get together at night and socialise?
I glance out at the lush grass that connects the house to the forest beyond.
Nature right on their doorstep. Do they shift and run in there?
Is it only on the full moon or whenever they like?
I have so many questions, like hundreds, but no idea if I can ask them.
Or if Lynx would deign to answer if I did.
“To see your bike,” he answers after long enough I’d almost given up on getting a reply.
Oh.
Not what I was expecting.
I’m not sure what it means either. “Why?”
“Don’t you want to check if it’s in one piece or not? I thought you restored it yourself?”
“I did, but why show it to me now? It’s not like you’re going to let me leave anytime soon, is it?”
He stops walking and turns to face me. “No.”
“Of course not.” I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, debating whether I want to put it out there or not.
Fuck it.
How much worse can it get?
“Will I ever get to ride it again?” Or will you bury it along with me?
This close, his eyes are a stunning cobalt blue, and he studies my face like he can see exactly what I’m thinking if he tries hard enough. Well, good luck there because even I don’t know half the time. He huffs and runs a hand through his hair.
I watch the strands fall back into place. It looks soft, silky. I wonder if it’s the same when he’s a wolf. If his fur is as dark as?—
“I don’t want to kill you, Morgan,” he says softly, startling me.
Then his words register. “Right.” They put my life to a fucking vote. “But you wish you’d left me for dead in the forest, don’t you?”
He hesitates, and it’s as good as an admission.
Not like I didn’t already know, but it’s just as shitty hearing it the second time around apparently.
“It’s complicated,” he says eventually, and I can’t help it, I laugh.
There’s a bitter edge to it, because what a load of bollocks. “It’s not me, it’s you?”
“Something like that.”
I roll my eyes, not giving a shit that he could kill me with ease.
Do I really have anything to lose at this point?
Despite their claims otherwise, I’m essentially their prisoner.
They’ll either kill me or they won’t, and I have no idea how to convince them I won’t expose their secret.
Somehow, I don’t think a simple promise will cut it.
It’s shocking how calm I feel about the whole thing.
After my meltdown on the stairs, a cold acceptance has sunk in.
I’m on the fence whether that’s a good thing or not.
“Be honest with me.” Okay, maybe I’m not in full acceptance mode, because nerves get the better of me and I swallow, running my fingers along my throat.
His gaze snaps to my hand with an intensity that steals my breath, and the rest of my words.
“About what?” he asks when I don’t say anything else. Time slows as he drags his gaze from my neck, tracing a lingering path upwards until his eyes meet mine. Heat blazes in its wake, my skin on fire, and I feel... fuck , I don’t know how to explain it.
Uncomfortable.
Raw.
And embarrassingly turned on.
Not a combination I’ve ever experienced before, and I’m not sure I want to now either. Especially not here. Or with him.
I turn, breaking this weird connection between us and give the compound my full attention. It’s not just the huge main house here, there are other buildings set back near the tree line.
And people.
I didn’t notice them before, but now I feel the curious stares. I wonder how many people live here.
How many shifters I’m surrounded by.
Nope, pretty sure I don’t want to know the answer to that. But I do need to ask the question I’d started to voice before... well, before whatever that was. “What will it take for you to trust me?” Arse, that wasn’t what I’d meant to ask, but maybe it should’ve been.
Lynx’s eyes widen, like I’ve surprised him, then he laughs. Fucking laughs as though I’ve said something hilarious. He sobers almost as quickly and leans in so close his breath hits my mouth. “I will never trust a human.”
I stare at him, stunned into silence. There’s a wealth of emotion in that sentence, and I’m not convinced it’s all because of me, but it doesn’t matter either way.
The implication is glaringly obvious. It takes me a couple of goes to find my voice again.
“Then you’re never going to let me leave, are you?
” Because if he doesn’t trust me to keep their secret, then I’m as good as dead anyway.
And just like that, all the fight drains out of me.
There’s an old picnic table on the grass, and I make my way over on autopilot. The wooden bench seat creaks when I slump onto it, but it holds. It’s another beautiful day, the sun hot on my face, but I’m so cold inside, I shiver.
“Morgan?”
I watch as he walks towards me, but I don’t answer.
Can’t.
What’s the fucking point anyway?
“Morgan?” his voice turns softer, warmer. He crouches in front of me, one hand on my knee, the other cradling my jaw as he draws my chin up so our gazes lock. Bright blue eyes search my face, fuck knows what for, though.
“You said I need to convince you that I won’t tell anyone about all of this.” I wave a hand, encompassing the house and the trees. “But how the hell am I supposed to do that if you’re never going to trust me?” I shrug. “Might as well just get it over with and kill me now.”
Is he tempted?
He’s so fucking hard to read, I have no idea.
His grip on my jaw tightens, and my pulse kicks up. Slowly, he tilts my head to the side, exposing my throat. Then he leans in and my heart fucking stops .
Hours seem to pass between beats as he ever so slowly skims his nose over skin so sensitive, a shudder runs through me.
I feel him inhale.
Hear the low, pained noise he makes... and then he’s gone.
I blink and he’s already put a few feet between us.
“Come on,” he orders, looking anywhere but at me now.
Irritation fills me. What the fuck just happened? The mental whiplash is insane, and if Lynx himself doesn’t kill me, it just might. “So we’re avoiding it?” I stand, scowling. “ Fine .”
He turns and stalks across the compound, and I have no choice but to follow, pissed off and glaring daggers at the back of his head.
But I guess it beats apathy.
We walk in silence towards a large barn-type building at the far edge of the compound. At least that’s what it looks like from the side, but when we reach the front, the doors are wide open, revealing the interior of a garage.
A few bikes are parked outside, one of which I recognise. I smile, relieved it’s in one piece.
Before I can make my way over to it, Lynx turns abruptly. “They know who you are,” he says so quietly, I have to strain to hear. “But don’t talk about what Nico told you. That’s not pack business.”
Of course he knows about that. I bet Flint told him. I’d been wondering whether to bring that up or not. I guess he’s made my decision for me. “Ok. But I have questions.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you do.”
I grin at him, which is nowhere near as effective as the one he aims back at me. I don’t have the teeth for it.
“Lynx,” a voice behind us says, interrupting whatever it is we’re doing.
I turn to see an incredibly attractive blonde woman watching us with amusement. A tattoo wraps around the base of her throat and disappears beneath her T-shirt. I make out what looks like the tips of flames but look away before she catches me staring.
Her gaze lands on me instead, and she’s not subtle about the thorough once-over she gives me.
“So this is what your human looks like when he’s not half-dead.”
Pretty sure Lynx says “not my human,” but the words are so softly spoken I can’t be sure.
“Morgan, meet Beth.” Lynx gestures to her and smiles. There’s no missing the love in his eyes as he introduces her, and I stiffen.
Something that feels a lot like jealousy burns in my chest. And why the hell do I care if they’re together?
I don’t.
Maybe I would’ve before , but definitely not now.
“Beth helps run the garage here.” He gestures behind her, where two other women are now watching us. “Along with Senna and Cerys. Flint’s sisters,” he adds.
“But don’t hold that against us,” one of them calls out, and they both laugh.
Neither of them has Flint’s ash-blond hair, but it’s easy to see the resemblance now I’m looking. “Nice to meet you,” I say, unable to abandon the manners my mum drilled into me from an early age. My gaze flicks back to Beth to find her smirking at me.
“And I’m like the sister Lynx never knew he wanted.” She raises an elegant eyebrow. “In case you were wondering about our relationship.”