Evander
I’m going to regret this. I shouldn’t be dancing with Kenna, her body glued to mine. She’s a perfect fit as she lays her head against my shoulder and wraps her arms around my waist.
She’s zoned out right now, completely overcome by the music. She’s always been like this. As a kid, we’d get stuck in the square in Moonrise for hours because someone would be playing a fiddle or singing a song that would have Kenna locked in place, unable to look away.
She has no idea who I am. It’s been long enough now that she wouldn’t recognize my voice. It’s much deeper than the last time I saw her. I’m taller, stronger, leaner….
Right now, I’m just a stranger to her, and it will never be more than this.
But her arms around me make me want to take her somewhere else, somewhere private, so I can keep touching her. So I can strip her of the gown she’s wearing and feel her skin, so I can smell past the floral perfume she’s wearing and find that scent that makes me feral.
That can never happen.
But this… this is fine. This is comfortable. This is all I can ever take from her.
I simply couldn’t take seeing her cry anymore. I’d moved through the crowd the second I saw that tear slide down her cheek.
I can handle a lot, but not that.
My hand is flat on her back. She’s warm and soft, curvier than I remember.
I shouldn’t say anything to her, so I stay quiet. Once this song is over, I have to pull us apart and return to the shadows.
I’m dipping into a haze of feeling brought on by her touch and the music when I sense something… else.
There’s been a shift in the air. I can taste… magic.
My muscles lock up, and I clutch Kenna hard. She’s not paying attention. She has all of this power and won’t use it.
A ripple rushes through the air. Everyone around us keeps dancing, unaware of what I’m sure is a threat.
A threat to the woman in my arms.
Someone shouts. I wait.
The sound of clothing shredding cuts through the music, and I move.
Kenna gasps as I lift her up and shove my way through the crowd just as the panic begins. The lights cut out. Darkness swallows the crowded ballroom whole. People are crying out for friends, confused and terrified as howling kicks up behind us.
Kenna is telling me to stop, to wait, that her cousins are in the ballroom, but I’m running toward the archways lining one side of the room, archways that lead into the network of corridors I scoped out during the first ball.
I let some of my wolf powers flow through me, just on the cusp of shifting, to allow me to see more clearly in the dark. Not many people can control their abilities like I can. I had to train for years to hold off that urge of transformation to use my gifts to their full advantage.
I spot an alcove just big enough for the two of us leading off one of the corridors and cut into it, lowering Kenna to her feet.
“Do not make a sound,” I rasp, clasping a hand over her mouth.
She’s breathing hard, her fear glazed eyes looking up at mine.
She can’t see me clearly at all. The lack of power to the temple is the only thing working in my favor right now. She doesn’t recognize my voice, but she’d recognize my eyes right now. I’m sure of it.
But with my wolf powers coursing through my veins, I’m… on the verge of losing control. My mate is right here. I’m touching her. The smell of her fear makes me want to shift and kill everyone in that ballroom.
Her hand curls on my chest, bunching up my shirt.
A few people gasp and stifle sobs as they run past the alcove we’re hiding in, looking for an exit.
Her mouth is slightly open against the palm of my hand.
I find it hard to swallow as my whole body hones in on the feeling of her lips against the thin fabric of my gloves, gloves that turn into armor to cover my wolf in the event of an emergency, like this very situation.
I pull my hand away, lowering my head as I keep us glued to the wall, my body shielding hers from view.
She takes a breath as quietly as she can.
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“What’s happening?” she whispers back.
“We’re being attacked.”
“By who?”
“Rebels.” It’s the obvious answer.
“What–”
I shush her as another group runs by. I can hear the chaos taking place in the ballroom. I imagine Flynn and the rest of the Ghosts knew this was going to happen tonight. In fact, I had a feeling something like this would take place eventually, which is why I allowed myself to get closer to Kenna than before. Royal guards and warriors had been crawling through the temple in plain dress all night.
Everyone else is safe with this much security involved, but not Kenna.
Because the Rebels are here for her. I’d bet my life on it.
Kenna continues to suck in breaths. She leans closer to me like I’m an anchor in the storm we’re weathering. She pulls me closer while I battle the conflicting emotions rolling through my body right now. Anger at the situation. Frustration over the fact that Kenna is more powerful than anyone in this kingdom yet she doesn't use those gifts to protect herself. Desperation because she’s terrified right now, and I am the only thing guarding her.
I close my eyes, trying to focus less on her scent and her touch burning into my skin and more on the noises of the battle taking place in the ballroom, but Kenna’s hands brush up my chest.
“Why,” she whispers, drawing in a breath. “Why do you smell like this?”
Fuck. I close my eyes as her hands travel back down my chest. Her breath hitches in her throat, and I can smell the change in her. It mixes with that warm, sweet scent she gives off. It’s something… headier and richer. Something that gnaws on the shred of self-control I have left as her hand cups my jaw.
She knows. She has to feel it too. Even if it’s just a flicker of the bond we share, she’s aware of it now. I open my eyes to find her looking up at me, at my mouth. Her lips part, and if she wasn’t wearing a mask, I’m sure I’d see her brow knitted in confusion.
“Who are you?” she whispers.
My restraint slips at the desperation in her tone. I lower my face to hers, my nose brushing against her nose, my lips coasting over her jaw. She smells so good. Her skin is so fucking soft, and my wolf is screaming in agony, pleading with me to claim what’s mine.
When she lets out a soft, whimpering moan, I lose it.
“Fuck it,” I rasp, clasping her neck to keep her still while I press my lips to hers.
She melts into my arms as I press her into the wall. Her breasts brush against my abdomen, full and heavy. I’m out of breath, but I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding over hers. She gasps and gathers me closer until there isn't any space left between us.
Nothing else matters. The world around us fades entirely. I am locked in place, unable to stop, and I can’t get enough of her.
My free hand slides down the slope of her hip, down the generous curve of her thigh. She hikes her leg, and I press into her, gripping her leg and losing myself to the soft weight of her in my arms.
‘All clear’
‘We got one.’
‘Bring him outside, we need him alive.’
‘Where is Agent Evander? Has anyone seen him?’
I pull away so suddenly Kenna slumps forward, and I have to steady her. My heart is racing as I look down at her, at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
Oh, fuck. What did I just do?
The mind-link is going haywire as my fellow agents check in. I hear my name called through the link, over and over, but my attention is split between my duties and the woman before me, the woman looking up at me, breathless, her hands still clutching my shirt.
She lets go and reaches for my mask, and I immediately snap out of the haze.
It’s still dark, but quiet.
I step away from her, panting for breath, letting my wolf powers simmer and ease away.
“Who–”
I grab her arm and lead her wordlessly out of the alcove. I ignore the way she tries to dig in her heels as we reach the empty, trashed ballroom. She tells me to stop, but I can’t even look at her. I shake my head as a group comes into view, a dozen or so people standing on the veranda overlooking the festival beyond the temple.
Ryan of Silverhide is with them, thank the fucking Goddess.
Ryan turns to us, his attention wholly on Kenna.
“Ryan?” she squeaks.
Ryan looks so relieved. His body slackens as he steps forward and catches her in a hug.
I slink back, unnoticed, at least I hope.
But Ryan looks at me over the top of Kenna’s head, his eyes narrowed.
I nod at him, wondering how much his twin brother had shared with him, and turn from the crowd of confused partygoers lingering on the steps before disappearing back inside to find my fellow agents.
I feel Kenna’s sudden panic and desperation through the bond. She’s looking for me right now, trying to spot me in the crowd.
I can’t believe I let myself do this to her.
I need to get out of this situation, right now.
It doesn’t take long to find Flynn and the rest of the Ghosts. I walk into a chamber toward the back of the massive temple, following their scents, and rip off my mask, letting it fall to the ground.
Flynn turns around, rolling his eyes as I stride up to the group standing in a semicircle around the man kneeling on the ground. “Nice of you to finally show up,” Flynn grumbles.
“I had to secure the princess.”
The space is illuminated by a single shred of moonlight beaming down from an angular window in the ceiling. Flynn looks me over as I stalk toward the captive. His brows raise as I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand, noticing the smudge of pink lipstick.
I give Flynn a sharp look, and he purses his lips looking more than amused as I crouch in front of the kneeling man and rip off the pale blue mask concealing his face.
Stormy, dark hazel eyes meet mine. His brutally split lips curl into a devious smile.
I know who he is, and what he’s doing here, immediately.
“I can smell her on you,” he rasps, his voice choppy from what I assume was a punch to the throat. “They can’t protect her for long.”
Gabriel, from the Draven Coven east of Tarsian, a coven led by followers of the long dead King Kane, smiles up at me.
Gabriel’s father, Atticus, is enemy number one in Eastonia and the biggest threat to the royal family there.
Kenna’s biggest threat.
A sharp explosion of darkness swallows the room for several seconds.
I rear back, grabbing Flynn’s shoulder. He bends at the waist, coughing, choking for breath.
When the smoky magic clears, Gabriel is gone.