14. Morgan
MORGAN
“Wear something warm,” Lynx says as he leans against the door.
I’m still reeling from the fact he held my hand all the way here.
And I let him.
There’s this growing tension between us, a crackling energy that both sets me on edge and soothes my very soul. It sounds ridiculous, I know, especially considering the circumstances, but I don’t know how else to explain it, this awareness I have when we’re around each other.
Part of me feels like it’s been there from day one, but the more time we spend together the stronger it gets.
“Morgan.” Lynx gestures to the wardrobe behind me. “We’re losing the light.”
I don’t know how, but the majority of my clothes are now hanging in the wardrobe of what is apparently my new room. It’s pretty basic: bed, wardrobe, bedside table, and most importantly, an en suite bathroom.
I walk over to the wardrobe and rifle through the stuff there until I find my coat and pull it out. “How did you get all of these.” A lot of the stuff is from the rucksack I had with me, but not all of it.
“Cal called Ash and asked him to meet him and bring some of your clothes.”
I snort as I imagine the look on Ash’s face when Callum Holt turned up.
I bet he almost swallowed his tongue. Then almost immediately I’m hit with both guilt and sadness.
I miss him. And I’ve not spoken to Ash since the morning he came here.
Usually we text back and forth pretty much all day if we’re not together.
I’ve not spoken to my dad either.
“Can I have my phone back?” I don’t expect Lynx to hand it over, but it’s worth a try.
He hesitates before shaking his head. “I don’t have it.”
“Who does then?”
“Callum maybe.” He cocks his head to one side as he studies me. “What do you want it for?”
“Firstly, because it’s mine. Secondly, there’s people I want to talk to: Ash, my dad. Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean I can’t keep in touch with them.” Wouldn’t surprise me if Ash’s sent me a hundred messages already. “I need to let work know I’m not coming in for a bit.”
“What do you do?”
Not gonna lie, it stings a little that he doesn’t remember.
Members of his pack come in our shop all the time.
Lynx, not so much, but he’s definitely come in when I’ve been on shift at least once.
I remember it being the highlight of my week.
Obviously, the feeling wasn’t mutual. “Me and Ash work at the Tesco Express in town while we’re at uni. ”
He tenses ever so slightly but then says, “You go to university?”
“Yep.” I puff my chest out a little because, fuck it, I’m proud of the fact.
“We’ve both got one more year left before we graduate.
” I can practically see him trying to do the maths in his head.
“I’m twenty-five. In case you were wondering.
” I don’t explain why we waited four years before going, and he doesn’t ask.
Instead, he says, “Was Ash working today?”
“Er...” It’s so far from what I was expecting, it takes me a second to answer. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
“Yeah, he would’ve done the seven to twelve shift.” It’s my turn to tilt my head, curious. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second. Lynx Harper doesn’t strike me as someone who makes idle chit-chat. But before I can ask anything else, he walks towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder.
“Come on.”
I roll my eyes but shrug my arms into my jacket and follow him. I’m not sure if I’ve reached my limit of giving a fuck, but ever since I woke up in that bed, for the second fucking time after passing out, I feel... not calm, exactly, but not like I’m going to fall apart any second.
Maybe it’s finding out there’s a reason for my sudden intense reactions to emotional stress.
I mean, you’d think finding out I’ve got shifter blood running around inside me would be enough to tip me over the edge, but so far so good.
In fact, it’s made a few other things clearer as well.
I just need to get Lynx to confirm my theories.
I follow him out of the room and along the corridor.
There are other rooms on this floor, but the doors are all closed. “Is anyone else on this floor?”
“Nico,” Lynx says, pointing to a door as we pass. “Jet’s in there with him, so I’d give it a while if you’re thinking of going to see him later.”
Fuck no.
“Think I’ll pass.” No way do I want to risk running into Jet.
Lynx smirks, but his expression sobers as he adds, “He has his reasons for not trusting people.”
I’m sure he does, but he still scares the shit out of me. I hurry past the door. “Soo,” I say, lowering my voice in case I’m not supposed to talk about this. “Corey’s blood...”
Lynx comes to a complete stop and faces me. “What about it?” His voice is lower, rougher, suddenly, and the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
“Is that why I healed so quickly?” I’ve been thinking about it ever since he told me. “My injuries were bad, weren’t they? But shifters have accelerated healing.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what it said in that book you were reading?”
“Is it true?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “And yes, that’s why you healed faster than we were expecting.”
I didn’t think he’d be that honest and it takes the wind out of my sails a little. I thought I’d have to pry the answers out of him. “Where are we going?” I try, but this time he shakes his head.
“Wait and see.” He grins, a proper smile this time instead of the wild one that shows all his teeth. It’s pretty fucking potent this close and I swallow the urge to step closer, to slide a hand a long his jaw and?—
“Morgan.” He makes my name sound soft and inviting, and I feel myself leaning in anyway.
His eyes darken, and my breath hitches.
This is such a bad idea, monumentally stupid, but I’m gonna do it anyway because I can’t not . I want it, and I don’t care about anything else in this moment. I’m seconds away from kissing him when the door beside us swings open and I stumble backwards as Jet walks out.
He stops in the middle of the hallway, gaze switching from Lynx to me, then back again. I expect him to say something, shout maybe, because it’s pretty obvious what we were about to do, and that’s got to piss him off.
I edge back against the wall, putting as much space as I can between me and Jet, but all he does is roll his eyes, give Lynx a very pointed look, then stalk past us as Lynx growls at him.
I’m . . . confused as fuck.
And also still a little turned on, and really, how is that fucking possible?
But Jet’s sudden appearance has the effect of a slap to the face, and the moment’s gone.
I make the mistake of looking at Lynx. His eyes are as dark as they were before, his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and he’s watching me with such naked hunger, I don’t know how to react.
No one has ever looked at me like that and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like it.
My mouth is suddenly drier than the desert and it takes me two attempts to speak. “I thought you wanted to show me something?” I realise a second too late how that sounds and a flush creeps up my neck to my cheeks.
“I do,” Lynx growls. It’s sexy as fuck and I half expect him to reach for his zip, disappointed when he doesn’t. Instead, he holds out his hand and I don’t hesitate to take it.
We walk in silence but the tension crackles between us, so thick, so heavy, it’s like a living thing as he leads me outside.
The sun’s already low in the sky, but it’s light out, will be for a few more hours yet. But the yard outside the house is surprisingly empty. There are a few bikes parked outside, but not as many as I’ve seen there before. “Where is everyone?”
“Around,” Lynx grunts. I think that’s all the answer I’m going to get until he adds, “Mal’s taken a few of the others out to patrol.”
“Patrol?” I frown. Patrol what? “Is it the Feral Beasts?” Fear spikes in my gut, and I drop his hand, mine clenching into fists.
Lynx’s head snaps round and he stops, gripping my arm. “No. And you’re safe here.”
I breathe a little easier, and he squeezes my arm before dropping his hand. The warmth from his touch lingers though, and I’m already tracing it with my fingers before I realise what I’m doing and stop.
Lynx swallows, watching me. “Hunters.”
“Hunters?” Surely, he doesn’t mean . . . ?
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, thick fingers tugging on the strands. I’m still imagining it’s my hands doing it when he speaks again. “They keep an eye on the shifter packs. Make sure we’re sticking to the rules.”
“There are rules?” I gape at him this time, and he nods. “What sort of rules?”
“No intentionally hurting humans. No changing humans without express written consent.” He cocks his head, studying me. “Did you think we could do whatever the fuck we wanted?”
“Pretty much, yeah.” I rub a hand over my stomach. The stitches might be out, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it felt like.
Lynx snarls, stepping closer until I feel his warm breath on my lips. I freeze, not out of fear this time, but in anticipation. I want him to touch me, so badly it hurts. “They should be punished for what they did,” he hisses.
It takes effort to focus on something other than his mouth, but I force the words out. “Why didn’t you report them to the hunters, then?”
A flash of something flares in his eyes. Regret, maybe?
He doesn’t look away as he says, “Because doing that would’ve drawn the hunter’s attention to us as well, and we can’t have that. Not doing what we do.”
“You mean with the fight rings.”
“Yes.” He sighs and takes a step back. “I’m sorry if it’s put you in more danger, but we’ve killed humans to rescue shifters from those fucking rings. Doesn’t matter that what they’re doing is wrong on so many levels. It’s still against hunter rules and we’ll be punished for it.”
I let that sink in.