Chapter 22 #3
Distracted by the attempt on my life, it was easy not to fixate on my confusion about the wolf’s abrupt departure.
I settled on an unreasonably optimistic answer: He’d found the assailant and was going to handle it.
There was no evidence to support my theory, but the string of losses left me desperate for a win.
Amelia’s absence left me without the voice of reason.
I’d even take her usual haranguing side-eye.
My musings jolted to a stop at the shimmering outline on the landing of my house.
“I would have met you inside, but I’ve been forbidden from just showing up.
” From Cirrian’s deviant smile, he was enjoying his malicious compliance.
Quickly walking to the front door, I held my response until we were inside.
He couldn’t seem to wait the few seconds it took me to punch in the code to the house, so disappeared and was waiting for me on the other side.
“You could call,” I said when I was inside, having refused to let my neighbors see me talking to myself.
“Is that another rule? No.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
Showing him the arrow, I said, “Someone tried to kill me. I think. Definitely attempted to poison me.”
He blinked a few times. “I might have to sequester you until you’re able to release the lycanthropes,” he said, examining the arrow. He inhaled the tip. “How do you know there’s poison on it?”
“Terran told me.”
“Terran?”
“The local Alpha.”
“Your employment is with the vampires, so why do you spend so much time with this man?”
“I don’t spend time with him. He’s confused by me and how he feels around me—it’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t sound complicated. He’s drawn to you. Don’t downplay your beauty, Kara. It is very enchanting.”
“I’m aware of how I look.” I flashed a grin similar to the one he gave me when I acknowledged how beautiful he was. “Anyway, he’s not attracted to me in that way.”
I didn’t know why I was reluctant to share what happened between me and Terran.
Perhaps it was how the wolf kept responding to Cirrian.
Previously, at the sound of his voice, he’d absconded.
I assumed sensing Cirrian was the reason he ran away again.
It wasn’t a coincidence. Suspicion had settled hard, overriding my attraction, as Cirrian moved closer, studying me with a curious cast over his face and slowly running his tongue over his lips as he looked thoughtfully at me and the arrow.
“Are the lycanthropes really your friends?” I asked.
Would it be so unreasonable to believe that they weren’t friends, and he wanted them released for nefarious reasons?
They could be mortal enemies with a long, violent history of battle and revenge, and Cirrian wanted them released to exact his brand of retribution.
Everything I knew about Cirrian, the lycanthropes, Goddess Annessa, the war between them and the draveths, was from his point of view.
Even Larkin, during his visit when he tried to use his brother’s body as a punching bag, had aligning motives.
His eyes narrowed at the question and the accompanying accusation.
“Where is this doubt coming from, my little minx?” The inquiry rolled off his lips in a purr, and I couldn’t counteract how the simple “my” made me feel.
The tantalizing words of possession should have been a turnoff.
I wasn’t his, but my opposition to the idea wasn’t strong enough.
I shook my head, recognizing that the attempt on my life had left me hyper-suspicious and skeptical.
Needing a moment, I pulled my shirt and running jacket from my body, overly aware of the sweat that lingered from my jog.
A shower would do me good and give me time to mull over how much information about Terran, my effect on werewolves, and my werewolf pet’s aversion to him to tell him.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I told him, heading for the stairs. Midway up them he’d flanked me.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
His brow cocked, and a salacious, delectable grin lifted one corner of his lips. “I thought it was an invitation.”
“It wasn’t.” Snatching my eyes from his before it slipped into one, I added, “I invite you to figure out the poison on the arrow and the magic on it. It’s very potent.”
“The magic on it is a siphoning spell. An archaic one. I’m assuming the person who attacked you the first time didn’t believe it worked and had another option.” After a considering moment, he mused, “They seem very resourceful.”
“Like the draveths?”
“Yes. I suspect they’ve found a way to use your magic in return—or worse.” It was the first time he seemed worried. He slipped deep into his thoughts. I wished he’d share even a modicum of what was going through his mind because his fierce expression made me nervous.
“Enjoy your shower, Kara.”
He was gone.
His departure gave me more time to decide if I’d disclose everything about me and the werewolves and debating whether Amelia was correct. Was it her mom who made the second attempt on me? Who’d made the third?