The next morning, I woke early despite not getting much sleep. I didn’t want to get pulled back into those fitful dreams.
Even after the events of last night, I felt charged. The senses that awoke with me when I gained my wolf when I shifted never dulled. I didn’t realize that I would be this powerful even after we shifted back. I could hear the scuttle of Omega’s waking down the hallway. I could smell the lingering dampness of the bathroom from last night's shower. I could see the dust motes floating through the air. I knew my wolf senses would be heightened, but I felt like I was looking at a whole different world.
I looked in the mirror. I didn’t look different. Possibly, my dark hair was a bit shinier, and my gray eyes flickered with something that wasn’t a fiery hate. But I could have been imagining things. Wishful thinking, maybe.
On the way down to breakfast. I was pulled back against something hard, someone hard. Palms dug into my waist so deep I yelped.
“I didn’t know you had so many curves hidden under your hideous dresses,” Dominick purred into my ear, sending chills down my spine. “So soft, so supple. I’m going to suck on your nipples until they are raw.”
I was terrified. The command was lifted now that I was eighteen. They could touch me, apparently, obviously. But how far would they go? Would they honor the trials? Either way, I wouldn’t let them touch me, but it would put me at a major disadvantage if I showed them how much I could actually hurt them.
“Do you know what I thought of this morning while my hand was wrapped around my dick?” He dropped one hand from my waist and lifted a finger below my nose. I held my breath, not wanting to smell him.
Thankfully, the only scent was of coconut… his lotion, thankfully.
“I thought of you writhing under me, your hands tied to my bedpost. I thought of your pink lips wrapped around my cock and your eyes watering as I slammed into your mouth.” His finger dropped and rested on my shoulder. He moved it slowly down, heading towards the neckline of my dress.
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I had mere seconds to decide how to get out of this without showing my hand. I could step on his foot and run. I would try that.
Dominick was pulled away from me. “Argh-” he groaned.
I was hoping it wasn’t one of his brothers. Two of them against me with no weapons, I didn’t think I could do it, even if I called everything from my previous years of training.
I looked back, my feet already moving away from Dominik. Ezra stood, pinning Dominick's hand above him before he slammed him into the stone wall behind him. Dominik let out a wheeze at the impact, and I fought a smile.
“Get off of me,” Dominick gritted out between his teeth.
“Are you going to tell your daddy?” Ezra purred. His face was composed, but a hint of a smile tugged the side of his face I could see.
Dominik looked sour. I knew he was about to threaten to tell his dad, but The Hunter beat him to it. Now, he had nothing to say.
“Get off me,” Dominick repeated. The Hunter looked him over once before dropping his hand and taking a step back. “You’re not here to protect her,” Dominik spat, glaring at me for some reason.
“I’m here to protect justice.”
“Poetic.” Dominik glared at us before turning on his heel. “I’ll see you in my bedroom soon.” Dominik looked back with a sly grin, raking his eyes over my body. I stood still and emotionless.
The Hunter tensed, and I reached out to him without thinking. Only once my fingers brushed against the back of his bare forearm did I retract them, confused.
“I have a feeling you won’t let any of them have you?” The Hunter said it wasn’t really a question.
I shrugged, brushing past him. “I’m just here to carry on the line.” I tried to say with as much innocence as a woman with a kill list could.
He barked a laugh behind me. It was rich and warm and rumbled through the hall and my body. I smiled freely with my back turned to him.
“Simone?” he said more than asked, and I halted, waiting for him to go on. “Can we speak? Later.” He sounded a bit unsure, and I fought the urge to meet his face, staring at the dull patterns on the carpet that I could call from memory.
“You know where to find me.” I toed the carpet and walked away, not entirely sure why a rush went through my body.
_____
I got through a grueling breakfast with everyone's eyes on me. The sneers and looks that went with their silence spoke volumes. I focused on my heightened senses, listening to the chatter of the Omega’s in the kitchen. It was more of a low buzz; I couldn’t pick out much, but I was delighted that I could hear that now. I really was at more of a disadvantage than I thought I was before I got my wolf.
After breakfast, I tried not to rush out and kept my pace steady. I got to the library, and it was eerily quiet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here. I waited by the fire, lighting it, and went to stand by the window, glancing at the dull view of the forest beyond.
I felt him before he walked up next to me on silent feet. We stood there in a comfortable quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts.
“Thank you,” I finally whispered.
“For?”
“The gift. It’s beautiful.”
“Oh.”
“Unless someone else is able to sneak into my room that quietly.” I shrugged. “You’re right; I shouldn’t make assumptions.” I raised a brow, and he tilted his head slightly, hiding the whisper of a smile that graced his lips.
Goddess, he was gorgeous. I didn’t fully notice before, or maybe I didn’t let myself while I was plotting his death.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. He straightened, going back to staring at the window as if he were a statute.
“I know it’s you,” he murmured.
I jumped. Even though his presence felt loud, I was so comfortable I let myself get lost in easy thoughts that I almost forgot he was there. I stilled, trying to swallow as his words sank in.
“I’ve known for a while,” he went on. I didn’t say anything. “I won’t tell them.”
I blurted out, “Why not?”
“I don’t think you’re the bad guy, girl, person,” he said, looking at me. “Do you know what I first do when I’m called to a job?” he asked and
I shook my head.
“I have to admit, usually, they’re a bit more straightforward. We’re sent for protection, to guard something, to move something. Occasionally justified revenge, but mostly protection. This one was a first a bit of a mystery.” I didn’t like how he was talking, as if he had already solved it.
“What do you do first?” I asked.
“I assess the client, assess their motives before I decide if the job is worthy.” He mentioned that before. “This one seemed easy. A shadow assassin that was picking off ranked members with no trace. Seemed pretty black and white to all of us. I was supposed to just do an initial read of the situation and, if I needed, to call for reinforcements.”
“But you haven’t?” I asked quietly. If he already knew, then why was I still here and not thrown in a dungeon or put to death?
“The first thing we look for, that anyone does, is motives,” he stated. “It took me longer to figure out the motives than it did to figure out the problem. People rarely kill just for fun.”
Some do,” I noted dryly.
“Some do,” he agreed, “but usually that isn’t the case.”
“And how do you know you’re correct in guessing motives?”
“Motives are usually pretty straightforward. Unless someone has harbored something for a long time.”
My lips formed a thin line. “Many people have motives; not many have means,” I noted. My motives were obvious. The sole pack member of a slaughtered pack.
“No,” he agreed, turning fully to me. His blue and brown eyes settled on my face, and I felt again as if he were reading me, looking through me.
I pieced my mask back together and studied him curiously with a composed face that bordered on indifference. I hoped to look amused by his confession, not terrified at what it would mean for me.
“You’re smarter than you let on, Simone,” he said, his voice soft.
“Smart doesn’t equate to brute strength,” I retorted.
“There are many ways to kill. Brute force doesn’t equate to all of them, not even many. Death was my job, and I found it worked best when you had the element of surprise. Assassins prefer a silent, clean kill. Blood and gore is extra.” He tried a smile, but his eyes were far away and hollow.
“I’m new to this business.” He came back to himself. “My old job, the one I was raised for, involved a bit more killing.” His jaw twitched at the word. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to send him back to the past; it seemed he was trying to forget as much as I was.
“So past motives and means, what is the other secret ingredient?” I asked with a half-smile, trying to distract him from himself.
“There are many people that want Alpha Raymos dead, I’m sure.” He shrugged slightly. “But many, if not any, will actually act on it. Motives are a factor, of course, but only part of it. I found that what people have to lose is an even bigger one.”
I studied him, confused.
“Okay,” he took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the closeness of his proximity, his deep, even breathing, the way his faint scars danced and changed with each word. What was wrong with me? “Let’s call it a scale. If vengeance is equal or greater than the loss, most people will act. But if they stand to lose more than their vengeance is worth, many don’t.” Sure some, acting rashly, stupidly, and it usually costs them.” A shadow crossed his face/ “Some get lucky.”
I felt like he was one that got lucky. “I’m going to need an example,” I said, tilting my head.
“Don’t do that.” He frowned, that’s not you.
I took a step back. “What?” I demanded.
“The act, it’s good, I’ll admit, but don’t do that around me.” Ezra’s face softened. He was more asking than telling. “Please,” he added, and I took a step back toward him, trying to push down the shock that had my blood on fire.
He looked me over again, satisfied at whatever was on my face, and went on, “The more you have to lose, the less likely you are to take those risks. Our master insured that.” The corners of his lips tugged down, and he closed his eyes before coming back to himself.
Questions bubbled up, and I figured that I might get answers to them for the first time, but I held them for later. I needed him to finish what he was talking about now.
“Say someone killed a woman. She left behind a mate and a brother. Her mate lost his counterpart, and her brother lost his sister. Both have motives. Both have lost people that they loved most in the world.” He paused. “Are you following?”
“Yes,” I said. For once, I didn’t compose my face into what I thought he wanted to see. It felt foreign but nice.
“But say man number two, the one who lost his sister, has a mate, children, a family. He is far less likely to risk being caught, dying himself, or risking his family. His grief is no less, but he has something big to lose. The first man only had his mate; she was his entire family, and with her gone, he has nothing to live for,” he explained.
“I get it,” I confirmed. “Both have motives, both might have means, but loss would prevent many from taking that final step.”
He nodded. “Sure, I believe that the lead omega, Amelia, is it?”
Now it was my turn to smile. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” I quipped, crossing my arms.
“You’re right.” He smiled back. It was genuine and wide, and beautiful. “So, Amelia might have enough motive. I’m sure she’s been crossed by the Alpha many times. She has means, access to everywhere, and no one would suspect her. But would she want to lose a job where she is the top place that her position allows? Would she risk death, punishment, or banishment for it? I don’t believe so, do you?”
“No,” I agreed.
“Most only think about motives, opportunity, means and forget to factor in loss completely. That’s not a mistake I made.” His face turned back to his mask. His composed, distant, yet harsh face remained. “So, tell me, Simone, What do you have to live for?”