My pulse races against the tip of his claw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t even been in this realm for a decade.”
“No, you haven’t.” He cuts my skin. “And from what I was told, you were in the Soul Realm. Or, at least your soul was. Yet, here you are, completely intact.” He slants closer to me, his foul breath heating my cheek. “Completely alive.” He drags his claw along my neck, cutting a thin layer of skin open. Blood trickles out and slips down the front of my shirt. “For now, anyway.”
As murderous rage consumes his expression, I don’t give myself time to think. I react out of pure survival instinct, an instinct I didn’t know I possessed.
Lifting my foot up, I kick him between the legs.
As his face bunches in pain, his claw lowering from my throat, I reel around and move to run, but he snags ahold of my hair.
“Not so fast, little wolf. I’m not finished with you yet.” He drags me back toward him, dodging my fist as I take a swing. “It’s not every day that a princess of the Violet Mountain pack runs straight into me. I’m surprised you’re not more protected.”
I crane my fist to take another swing at him, but my movements are lethargic. Mid-swing, my arm slackens to my side as the streets around me begin to twirl.
“What’s happening …?” As I teeter sideways, I grab the front of his cloak. “What’s … happening … to … me …?”
His teeth glint in the moonlight as he raises his clawed hand. “The poison in our claws is part of what makes us so powerful.” He dips his lips toward my ear, clutching my shoulder. “Tell me, little wolf, have you ever looked evil in the eye before?”
I bob my head up and down as the faces of the werewolves who attacked me burn into my retinas. “Yes … I have …” I tilt sideways as my eyelids lower.
Then everything goes black.
Chapter 8
Part of me expects not to wake up ever again. That whatever poison the evil cat shapeshifter put in me killed me where I stood. So, when my eyelids do lift open, a tiny part of me feels sad that I’ve woken up. I felt like that a lot for weeks following the werewolf attack. I thought I’d gotten over my depression. I guess I was wrong.
“Rise and shine, little wolf. It’s time for the cat to play a game of mouse with a very valuable dog.”
I frown at the sound of the cat shapeshifter’s taunting voice, my mind spinning as I slowly sit up on the sofa I’m lying on and take in my surroundings.
Purple walls, leather sofas, a large cheetah print rug in front of a fireplace. The entire room is one big, tacky man cave.
“Glad to see the poison didn’t kill you.” The cat shapeshifter plops down into the sofa across from me. His lips spread into a lazy smile as he stretches his arms across the back of the chair. “Not that I don’t plan on killing you eventually. But first, I need you for collateral.”
I blink the grogginess from my mind. “Collateral for what?”
“Not for what. For whom.” He props a foot up onto his knee. “I’ve been wanting to get the attention of your little prince forever, but he has more guards than even I can take on.”
Strange, since I didn’t see any guards at the club. Then again, werewolves were all over the place, so perhaps they all were his guards.
“And what better way to draw out a prince than to capture his princess,” he continues to prattle on, looking rather pleased with himself.
“I’m not a princess,” I reply, checking my neck for open claw wounds. Surprisingly, the injuries have already healed and left behind no scar tissue. Thank God. The last thing my body needs is more permanent marks.
“Oh, but you are.” He slants forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Princess of the Violet Mountain pack, one of the most powerful packs that’s ever existed. Also, the same pack that destroyed my entire family.”
I gulp. “Look, I’m sorry you lost your family, but I promise I had nothing to do with that.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t. And I didn’t lose my family!” A roar rips from his throat as he snarls at me. “They were stolen from me by your pack and locked up, all because of a crime they were falsely accused of.” He musters a calming breath before he flops back onto the sofa. “But that’s okay. I’m about to get them back. Then I’m going to make your pack suffer, just like they made my family suffer.” He polishes his fingers on the front of his cloak and begins humming an unfamiliar tune with a crazed look in his yellow eyes.
I need to get out of here.
I steal a glance around the room, searching for a way to escape.
“I wouldn’t try to escape if I were you.” He grins. “Until my poison clears from your veins, you’ll drop dead if you go any farther than twenty-five feet away from me.”
My shoulders slump. Fuck. How did I go from living the dullest life ever to being held prisoner by a revenge-driven shapeshifter cat with slightly disproportioned eyes?
“Do you know what makes this situation even better?” He waits for me to respond. When I don’t, he sighs. “Fine, don’t play along. But I’m going to tell you, anyway, because I’m bored and hate awkward silences.” He stretches out his legs. “The best part about this is that your prince is out there, losing his damn mind, knowing that I have you and could very well kill you if I want to.”
“I really doubt he’s losing his mind. He barely knows me.”
“Are you really that stupid? Or are you trying to play me?” When I say nothing, delight lights up his eyes. “You don’t remember.”
I squirm, biting back the urge to ask him how he knows. The little he knows about me, the better.
“Well, this is interesting.” A thrilled grin rises on his face. “I wonder how your prince feels about that.” His grin vanishes as someone pounds on the door. He glances at the clock then springs to his feet. “That must be our guest of honor.” His long legs carry him across the room, and he fixes a smile on his face before he pulls open the door.
“Jules, how lovely to see you again,” the cat greets cheerfully, blocking my view of the doorway.
I release a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. For a moment, I worried that maybe another crazy cat shapeshifter had arrived.
“Where is she?” Jules booms. “I swear to the wolves, if you’ve hurt her in any way, I will kill your family, and then kill you, slowly and painfully.”
His murderous tone makes me shudder.
The shapeshifter leans against the doorjamb. “That’s a bold threat for someone in your position.”
“Philip, where the fuck is she?” Jules growls.
Philip dramatically sighs. “Man, I forgot how moody you werewolves can be. Although, your princess doesn’t seem to carry the dog rage. She has more of a gentle quality to her, doesn’t she? So fragile. So innocent. So delicious.”
Pulling a disgusted face, I start to reach for a vase to fling at his head, when an ear-splitting growl causes me to freeze.
“Will you calm down!” Philip shouts. “You’ll wake the whole damn neighborhood up.”
“I’ll calm down when you give her to me,” Jules spats. “I need to know she’s okay.”
“So damn dramatic.” Philip steps back. “Fine, come see your precious princess. Just remember what I told you on the phone. She’s currently under my poison, which means, if I die, so does she.”
Another low growl thunders across the air, and then Jules steps through the doorway. His eyes immediately find mine and intense relief washes over his features. He strides toward me, his flaming violet gaze frantically skimming my body.
The violet glow throws me off again. So does his alarming panic as he assesses me.
“Are you okay?” he asks when he reaches me.
I nod. “Yeah, except for the whole poison thing and the annoying company, I’m just peachy.”
He offers me an apologetic look. “Cat shapeshifters are known for their annoying personalities, but Philip is the worst I’ve met yet.”
“I bet.” I stare at his eyes as the viole
t color enhances.
He must realize what’s going on because he blinks until his violet fades to blue.
I want to ask him why his eyes keep glowing violet, but now doesn’t seem like the right time. I make a mental note to do so, though, adding it to a very long list of things that are already confusing me.
“So, now that you’ve seen that she’s okay, it’s time for you and I to strike a bargain.” Philip plops down in a chair and gestures at the sofa I’m sitting in. “Please, Jules, make yourself comfortable. We’re going to be here for a while. That is, unless you want to try to take her and see how far you’ll make it before she dies.”
Jules’ lips twitch, but he turns around and sinks down onto the sofa beside me. “You have some balls, cat, using the princess as a bargaining tool.” He rests his knee against mine. “That’s basically like putting a target on your back.”
I move my leg away from Jules, and he flinches.
He shouldn’t take it personally. Before the werewolf attack, I wasn’t a fan of being touched. Then after it happened, I became even more closed off. The only exception is Legend. Although, when Jules had me on his lap in the club, I actually felt momentarily comforted.
So strange.
When Philip notes the space between us, he grins. “Your princess seems to have a distaste for you.”
Jules grinds his teeth, but he doesn’t offer a rebuttal. His silence makes Philip’s grin grow.
“Seeing this—her hatred for you—makes me extremely happy.” Philip slants forward with glee. “Tell me, Jules, what does having your alterum dimidium animae detest you feel like? Does it hurt? Does it make you hate yourself? Because it should. You don’t deserve to be happy for what your pack did to me.” He reclines back in the sofa, still grinning, as Jules opens and flexes his hands, that heartbreaking sorrow flooding his eyes again.
Okay, this cat is really grating on my nerves.
Raising my brows, I scoot closer to Jules, then reach over and lace my fingers through his.
Jules glances at me with his brows dipped. I almost expect him to pull away, but he latches on to my hand. My heart thunders in my chest from the contact, but I remain composed and smile sweetly at Philip.
“Detest, huh?” My words wipe the smile right of his face.
Philip frowns. “I know you’re acting. I can feel that you’re afraid of him.”
I refuse to let him be right. Not after he drugged me and dragged me here against my own freewill.
I rest my head on Jules’ shoulder, a soft breath rushing from my lips as the scent of moonlight engulfs my senses. “Am I?”
Philip’s lips spasm. “You can’t even remember him.”
“No, you speculated that I can’t.” My tone is surprisingly even. “I never said anything of the sort.”
The cat’s jaw ticks. “I can tell that you don’t.”
Jules outlines circles on the back of my thumb, causing goose bumps to sprout across my skin. “I didn’t come here to discuss what Elora doesn’t or does remember. I came here to discuss a bargain.”
Philip scowls at him. “You’re not in charge here. I am.”
“You know that’s not true,” Jules replies coolly. “All I have to do is make one single call and your entire family dies.”
Philip leaps to his feet, growling. “Then she dies with them.”
Jules shakes his head, the epitome of calm. “All I have to do is lock you up until the poison wears out of her system.”
“You and what army?” the cat snarls, his claws snapping out.
Jules nods at a window, his eyes never wavering from the cat. “Why don’t you go see for yourself.”
Rage roars from Philip’s chest as he stalks over to the window and jerks the curtain back. “I told you to come alone!” he hisses
“And you thought I would listen?” Jules untangles his fingers from mine and rises to his feet. “You threatened my alterum dimidium animae, poisoned her, kidnapped her, and you thought I’d just let you get away with it?” His deadly cold tone sends a shiver over my body. “You should’ve known better.”
Okay, I really need to find out what this alterum dimidium animae thing is.
Philip reels around with both sets of claws out. “Your pack took my entire family away from me. What did you expect me to do? Bow down and simply accept it?”
“You know as well as I do that what happened to your family has nothing to do with me. I fought my father’s decision to imprison them, but he doesn’t listen to anyone but himself.” Jules’ tone conveys an edge at the mention of his father, and his fingers fold inward, the silver rings burning more of his flesh.
Philip momentarily remains silent as he studies Jules. “I know that.” He flexes his fingers, retracting his claws back inside his knuckles. “But I can’t just let them remain locked up because your father falsely accused them of murder.” He rests his arm on the mantle of the fireplace, gazing at the crackling fire. “My family didn’t murder her or her parents.” His gaze flits to me. “And the fact that she’s here should be enough proof.”
A piercing sensation lodges in the center of my heart. “Wait … Your family was accused of killing me and my parents?” I glance helplessly up at Jules. “Are my parents … dead?”
His throat bobs as he nods.
Tears burn my eyes. “Maybe they’re not, though?” I sputter desperately. “I mean, I’m still alive and you thought I was dead.”
“Elora …” Jules starts with pity in his eyes.
“Don’t call me Elora please,” I cut him off. “That name doesn’t make sense to me, and it brings back painful memories.” Of werewolves and evil.
Looking worried, he sits down beside me. “Lake, we know for sure that your parents died because …” He takes my hands in his. “Because we found their bodies the day you disappeared.”
My heart literally dies in my chest.
My parents are dead.
I don’t know why, but I always hoped that maybe I simply just got separated from them and they couldn’t find me. But they never even looked for me. Because they’re gone.
Because they’re dead.
Chapter 9
Pain. So much pain stirs in my chest. An unwanted, overpowering, destroying feeling, threatening to tear my heart apart.
“How did they die?” I whisper, slipping my fingers out of Jules’ and rubbing my hand over my aching chest.
Jules gives a hesitant glance at Philip. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it here.”
“I need to know”—I glare at the cat—“if his family had anything to do with their deaths.” I’m not sure why I need to know, what I’ll do. Probably something stupid that will result in me getting hurt, but my head isn’t very clear right now, too congested with deep, blinding, agonizing pain.
Philip’s eyes narrow into slits. “My family didn’t do anything to yours. I know this for a fact.”
“Then why are they locked up?” Tears pool in my eyes as sorrow continues to drown me.
Jules places a hand over mine, running his thumb along my knuckles. “He’s telling the truth. My father falsely accused his family of committing the murders; used them as scapegoats because he needed someone to blame to avoid panic in our pack. Some of our pack knows this, but …” He trails off.
“But what?” I press.
“But they’re afraid of his father,” Philip answers. “Even his own son.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” Jules snaps. “There’s just not much I, or any of the others in the pack, can do. He’s the king.”
“And you’re the prince,” Philip stresses. “Which means you’ll be king once he’s gone.”
Wait. If I’m a princess, then does that mean I’ll be queen?
The aching in my chest increases. What if I am? How am I supposed to rule over a species I not only fear, but know nothing about?
“The crown has already chosen you as the official prince,” Philip adds. “All that’s standing in your way of ruling is the
current king.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?” Jules’ tone vibrates with warning. “Because it’s sounding an awful lot like you’re suggesting I kill my father. And punishment for such a suggestion is automatic execution.”
Philip rolls his eyes. “Like you’d kill me. You don’t have it in you to kill an innocent creature, especially when doing so would result in the death of that lovely thing right there.” His eyes land on me.
Jules protectively leans closer to me. “You’re hardly innocent, Philip. But you’re right. I’m not going to kill you.”
Philip smiles smugly. “I never thought you would.”
Jules quirks a brow. “Then why did you look so nervous?”
“I wasn’t nervous,” Philip insists. “I was merely on guard.”
Jules rolls his eyes. “Sure, you were.”
My gaze bounces back and forth between the two now smiling paranormals. “So, you guys are friends now?” I’m so lost.
Jules turns to me. “Not even close. But we are on the same page.”
“Which is …?”
“That we’re going to get my family released,” Philip answers, sinking down on the armrest.
Jules bobs his head up and down, lines creasing his forehead. “It’s going to take some time. I need to figure out a way to prove to my father and the rest of his royal committee that it wasn’t cat shapeshifters who attacked our pack that day.”
“How can you be so sure it wasn’t?” I ask. “If they were accused, isn’t there some proof?”
“That’s the thing,” Jules says. “There was no real proof. My father just needed someone to blame.”
“Okay, so again, I stress, how do you know for sure it wasn’t his family?” I ignore the dirty look I get from Philip.
“Because …” Jules hesitates. “Because I know for a fact that our pack was attacked that day by werewolves from another pack.”
“You’re being very vague,” I point out. “So, why don’t we skip past my stupidly annoying human questions and you just tell me what it is I don’t know?”
Philip snorts a laugh. “She’s amusing. I’ll give her that.”