Omega in the Shadows

Lost Wolves Book One

By: Zoe Perdita

Cover Art:

Join Zoe’s New Release mailing list for updates on her latest books:

http://www.zoeperdita.com/p/join-my-mailing-list.html

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Elijah Kane sounded like an assassin’s name.
Rowan Gregor frowned. He didn’t like the idea of hunting his own kind. Yue, the moon goddess,

wouldn’t approve. But Rowan lost faith in her a long time ago. Even if she tugged at the alpha roaring
inside him, begging him to shift and howl at her beauty, he wouldn’t give in.

She let him down when he needed her most.
Never again.
“In position,” Brooks, the wolf’s human partner, grumbled over the Bluetooth headset lodged in

Rowan’s ear.

“Copy,” he muttered back, hoping the inconspicuous microphone on his shirt collar caught the

words. The reception in Český Krumlov was spotty at best, even with the signal booster close by.

The air chilled his skin. It was unseasonably cool for October with a thick sheet of clouds

blocking the sun.

The perfect day to kill an assassin.
He wanted to zip up his jacket, but he needed easy access to the gun in his holster. All of his

senses had to be sharp – ready to sense Kane.

Rowan leaned against the ancient stone church in the middle of the square and gripped the

newspaper. He ran Kane’s suspected crimes through his head. How the man thought. What he might
do. Only it was a whole lot of ‘if’ and ‘maybe.’ They didn’t know enough about the infamous assassin
to create an in-depth psychological profile. Hell, they didn’t even know if he was real, or a mixture of
different men smashed together into one myth.

Twenty known kills – several of them people the CIA didn’t want dead. Yet. That’s why Rowan

and Brooks were after Kane in the first place. To take him out before he messed things up for the
agency’s plans.

Then there was the other thing – no one knew what Kane looked like. He slipped in and out of

countries as if he moved through the shadows and not in the sunlight.

Not to mention some of the kills weren’t what most people called normal.
Humans couldn’t rip a man’s heart from his chest – but a wolf could.
That’s how Colonel Greer, Rowan’s boss, knew what they were dealing with, and why he sent

Rowan. The alpha was the only wolf in their unit, after all.

The streets were crowded at this time of day. People walked to work under the slate gray sky. A

few held umbrellas tucked under their arms, and everyone wore clean, simple clothes. Typical
European style.

The cobblestone streets invited one to trip, so he’d have to watch out for that. Falling on his face

wasn’t the way to start a mission, and the oxfords he wore to blend in didn’t exactly serve as running
shoes.

Rowan flipped a page in the newspaper, his eyes trained on the crowd.
“Got anything?” Brooks asked and slurped his coffee. Impatient as always.
“Not yet. I’ll let you know when I do.” If I do, Rowan amended in his mind. No saying the tip

was good. Maybe Kane wasn’t going to march into a crowd and take out a dirty politician in the
middle of the day. Then again, he might.

One could never tell. He was too unpredictable. Maybe too good.
Or Kane didn’t even exist, Rowan reminded himself and scowled. It wouldn’t give him away –

everyone in Eastern Europe scowled.

And who wouldn’t? Europe’s Old One territory wasn’t well integrated with its human territory.

That meant human cities were squished into all the areas they could fit. Meanwhile, wolves and other
shifters roamed free on their own land – land that didn’t support modern technology due to the
presence of the Old Ones, ancient shifters who supported the flow of magic. Unlike America, wolves
and other shifters weren’t welcomed in the human territory throughout most of Europe. Centuries-old
wars saw to that – war and hunters.

Shifters were snuffed out and killed on sight, giving everyone another reason to be wary and on

guard.

Not that America was perfect, far from it. But at least a wolf could wander into human territory

without getting his head chopped off if someone found out his secret. Rowan grimaced. That didn’t
mean humans cared about shifters, not really. His past attested to that. Yet here he was. Hiding in an
old Czech city and working as an attack dog for a human organization.

This was a choice he made a long time ago. Don’t get involved with other shifters, especially

wolves. Getting close to other wolves meant he’d have to deal with losing them, and Rowan wasn’t
going to lose anything he cared about. Ever again.

Living as a human was the only way to accomplish that.
He caught sight of the mark across the street. Miroslav Tesar. The man the CIA thought Kane

was hired to kill.

Rowan gritted his teeth. Tesar wasn’t an innocent. Not by a long shot. He took bribes. Visited

countless whorehouses filled with girls there against their will. And he had ties to the warlords farther
east. The ones that ran the borderlands between human and Old One territory. No one else wanted to
live that close to monsters.

But that didn’t mean they could let an assassin finish him off, right?
Not when it went against orders.
Tesar strolled down the other side of the street. Like most of the Czech Republic, this town’s

history stretched back over a thousand years. The architecture, countless alleys and side streets,
reflected this history and made tracking a skilled assassin that much more difficult.

Too many places for the bastard to hide.
The church bell rang across the square. Rowan folded the newspaper and fell into step behind

Tesar.

“Target in sight,” he said. “Headed in your direction.”
Brooks huffed on the other end of the line. No doubt antsy for action after being holed up in

town for the last week. Rowan didn’t blame him. The alpha clawed at his insides, urging him to shift
and charge through the crowd. His old habits weren’t controlling it as well as they used to. No matter
how many women he took to bed, they couldn’t calm the beast.

Hopefully a good old-fashioned hunt would do the trick.
Rowan couldn’t remember the last time they didn’t know what they were up against. Maybe

never. It sent a little jolt of excitement through his veins. The alpha simmered inside, raising its
mighty head and ready to howl and rip.

To kill.
Rowan shoved it down. He needed to focus on the mission. His training. Not the wolf bristling

just under the surface, willing him to surrender his control to the animal.

Two bodyguards flanked Tesar. The politician smiled at pretty girls on the street, his head held

high. The bastard knew he was rich and untouchable.

Rowan stamped down the urge to punch the asshole and kept his eye on the crowd. Anyone

unfamiliar. Anyone dangerous. Scratch that. No one ever spotted Kane because he blended in. Either

he wore disguises, or he didn’t stand out.

“Two more blocks,” Rowan said and crossed the street. His shoes slapped against the

cobblestones. The weight of the gun at his side was comforting, but only if he knew where to shoot.

“See him,” Brooks said.
“Kane?” Rowan muttered, looking around casually.
“No. The mark. I’ll lead.”
Rowan sighed. “Copy.”
If Brooks spotted Kane first he’d probably do something stupid, like open fire without a word.

They needed to make sure the person they brought down was the mysterious assassin – or that he
could lead them to the man.

Kane was causing too many problems for the agency to sit back and let him be.
Brooks slipped out of his seat at the café and stepped in front of Tesar by several paces.

“Anything?”

If Rowan’s superior senses couldn’t find Kane, no way Brooks would. “No visual that I’m aware

of.”

“I’m tired of this bullshit,” Brooks said. “If we don’t know what Kane looks like, how will we

find him before he shoots Tesar?”

Because I can smell a fellow wolf, Rowan thought, but he didn’t say that. Like most humans,

Brooks preferred not to think about Rowan’s dual nature. He had no idea what shifter senses were like
– how powerful they could be.

The crowd dissipated at the end of the road. They neared Tesar’s office with every step. If Kane

struck inside they wouldn’t be able to stop him in time. It’s not like Tesar knew the CIA kept an eye
on him, and Colonel Greer wanted to keep it that way.

He gritted his teeth and studied every face he passed. A few blonds and redheads, but everyone

else was plain. Brown hair. Light eyes. Dull and ordinary. Kane probably slunk among them without a
care in the world.

Then a shock of stylish black hair caught his attention. The man wasn’t tall, just under average

height and slender. He wore an expensive suit, perfectly fitted, and the way he held himself told
Rowan he knew he was attractive. The man’s eyes were the most striking thing about him. The gray
blue of the sky right before a thunderstorm. The color clashed with his dark hair.

Those eyes caught Rowan’s and held.
The man smirked, and Rowan caught the scent on the wind. Heavy with musk and tantalizingly

sweet. A jolt of recognition hit him in the belly.

A wolf.
Kane!
Rowan pushed his way through the crowd and bit his tongue. If he warned Brooks about Kane,

the assassin might hear him. Wolf senses were sharper than those of normal humans, even in a crowd
like this. Rowan had to handle this guy on his own.

Kane didn’t quicken his pace, but Rowan saw the man slip a hand into his suit jacket. A gun. He

was going to slip past the bodyguards and shoot Tesar at pointblank range. Even in a crowded street
the confusion that followed would allow him to slip into the shadows like he always did.

Not if Rowan got to him first!
“Hey,” he called, trying to get Tesar’s attention.
“You see him?” Brooks asked and spun around.
Shit!
Rowan didn’t answer. He broke into a run, but a bodyguard turned and shoved him back.
Wrong guy, asshole, Rowan thought and swung his fist into the brute’s gut. The man’s eyes

widened, and he doubled over in surprise. He stood as tall as Rowan, a towering six foot three, but
wolf strength bested human strength every time.

“Who is it?” Brooks hissed.
The other bodyguard turned at that moment, and Kane stepped in close.
Rowan shoved forward, but the quick whish of a silenced gun rang through his ears.
Right to the chest.
Tesar crumpled to the ground. His heart stopped.
The crowd erupted into screams as the bodyguards turned their attention to the man they

should’ve been protecting.

Rowan caught a glimpse of Kane disappearing into a side street and ran after him. They may

never catch him again if they lost him now.

“Gregor? Dammit!” Brooks cried.
Rowan ignored his partner as he moved through the bustle of bodies.
Kane slipped through the crowd like water. His pace quickened, but he didn’t run. Then he slid

into an alley and Rowan pulled out his gun, took a deep breath, and rounded the corner.

Clear.
He sighed and stepped forward slowly.
If he was Kane, he’d focus on escaping. But Kane obviously didn’t want people to know what he

looked like. That meant he’d try to kill Rowan.

He scowled at the thought and listened.
Footsteps pattered in the distance, and Brooks’ breathing huffed in his ear. Part of him wanted to

rip out the headset and move on his own, but that was breaking all kinds of protocol and putting his
partner in danger.

“Got him,” Brooks grumbled over the headset, and Rowan froze.
“Do you now?” someone asked on Brooks’ end. His voice was smooth and rich, unconcerned.

How the hell could he sound like that when he had two unknown assailants on his ass?

Kane knew he was good. Egotistical asshole.
“Brooks,” Rowan whispered.
A gun cocked. “I’m not arresting you,” Brooks said.
“Of course not. You’re going to try and kill me. Try being the operative word. Well, go for it,”

the man said.

The hairs rose on the back of Rowan’s neck. He had to get to Brooks before his partner did

anything stupid!

“You Elijah Kane?” Brooks demanded. He probably took Kane for granted since he wasn’t large

or powerful looking. It’d be the last mistake he ever made.

Rowan crept down the alley. Kane and Brooks couldn’t have gotten far.
“The one and only. And you’re here all alone. Doesn't that scare you?” Kane asked and a

footstep clacked.

Brooks snorted. Typical response.
A siren wailed on the main street. Shit. They had to get this done before Czech authorities

caught them. Not only did the CIA need to keep this mission a secret, but Rowan also wasn’t too keen
on the local authorities finding out his real identity. His shifter identity.

If the Czechs caught him, they’d turn him over to hunters. His blood froze at the thought.
Silver bullets. Wolf’s bane. Death.
That’s what hunters did to wolves.
Then a shot rang through the air and the headset buzzed with static.
Rowan ran toward the sound.

He slipped around one corner, down another alley and stopped dead.
Brooks slumped on the cobblestones. The back of his skull decorated the wall with brains and

blood. His gun sat limp in his hand.

Kane stood over him, but he was looking at Rowan, eyes sharp and bright. “Let me guess, CIA?

If it was just you I’d have thought M-16, but he made it painfully clear how American he was.”

Rowan almost bristled at the insinuation. He was American too, but they stationed him in

Eastern Europe because he blended in with the people, even with his shock of auburn hair. Shifters
didn’t look any different from normal humans, besides the small things, like slightly sharper canines.

Kane’s gun hung at his side, like an afterthought, but Rowan didn’t push his luck. Wolf reflexes

were superior to human reflexes. Everything about Kane was superior to a human.

“You’re smarter than your partner, but I’d expect that from a wolf,” Kane said and smirked. “An

alpha.”

“And you’re an omega,” Rowan said carefully.
Kane sneered. “Obviously. I’m too small to be anything else. Isn’t it funny how we stick to

meaningless ranks even when we don’t have a pack to enforce them?”

Rowan shrugged. He wasn’t going to get into a discussion about wolf politics with the most

elusive assassin in Europe, maybe the world. Anything he said might piss Kane off enough to shoot
him. If only he could get the gun away, he’d be able to overpower Kane with brute strength.

Alpha beat omega every time. Except this omega wasn’t normal.
“You want to kill me, don’t you?” Kane asked and sighed.
Rowan pointed his gun at the assassin and nodded. “You know I have to. You killed my partner.”
Kane rolled his eyes. “You didn’t care about him. An idiot who charges in like that was going to

get killed sooner or later. I hope you’re better than that.”

This was some kind of game. A man as dangerous and as intelligent as Elijah Kane was a master

of lies and intrigue. Best to keep him talking while Rowan could. “I am an alpha.”

“Than catch me,” Kane said and dodged around the corner.
“Fuck!” Rowan grumbled and ran after him.
The town was a maze of side streets and rivers, all surrounded by lush farmland and forest. The

closest Old One territory started over a hundred miles off, and he doubted that’s where Kane would
head. A lone omega would fare as well in strange Old One territory as he would in human territory.
Not well at all. Even if a fellow wolf pack lived there, it didn’t mean they were friendly. They’d just
as soon slaughter a strange shifter as a hunter.

Rowan kept Kane’s trail for a good twenty minutes. He slid through alleys and over one of the

many bridges in the city, dogging Kane’s steps. Then the damn assassin slipped into a crowd, and
Rowan lost Kane’s scent. Too many other smells filled the air, and that intriguing musk dissipated.

Shit. He shouldn’t find the scent of an assassin omega intriguing in the least, Rowan told

himself as he went back to Brooks’ body.

Well, he found Elijah Kane but lost his impulsive partner.
He’d have to report this – and Colonel Greer would not be happy with the results.
Even worse, a strange sensation tugged at him. The alpha stirred, scratched at the confines of its

cage. Rowan’s chest tightened, like something wound itself around it.

Through it.
He pushed the feeling – all feelings – aside and got to work.

Chapter Two

Elijah took a sharp breath of the cold air and ducked into the club. He should be anywhere else

in the world right now. Catching a train to Florence. Or flying to Shanghai to lay low for a month
while the CIA told every law enforcement agency in the world what he looked like.

Gorgeous and dangerous, sometimes he was too much even for himself.
Instead he slid into the corner, tucked behind the crowd of sweaty bodies and thumping music,

and stared at the bar.

There.
Rowan Gregor.
Elijah found Rowan’s profile while hacking into the CIA database after that hiccup during the

Tesar assassination. He didn’t learn much; just Rowan’s age (a healthy thirty-two) and his other vitals
– all things Elijah could figure out just by looking at the man. Although, the information on Rowan’s
many indiscretions did rouse Elijah’s attention. Unfortunately, it looked like those were all with
women.

Right now Rowan was drowning his sorrows and scanning the crowd for a piece of ass to take

his mind off his failure. His partner’s death.

The hackles on Elijah’s neck rose. He could be the one falling into Rowan’s bed – scratch that –

he should be the one. But a CIA agent wouldn’t see it that way. A CIA alpha made it even worse.

One of the things Elijah never wanted to deal with again – a fucking alpha. But here he was

stalking one.

Rowan Gregor was too tasty to resist. Those perfectly broad shoulders and his ruffled auburn

hair, coupled with dark eyes and a pout that stood at odds with his intimidating presence. Looking at
him send a jolt of desire straight to Elijah’s groin – dangerous desire.

The man was sent to kill him, and here he was getting a crush.
No. Not a crush. Instinct tugged him toward Rowan – that, and a need to prove how strong he

was to every alpha he met. Elijah was more than happy to do that in any way possible.

It’d been three days after the business in Český Krumlov. Rowan moved to Prague, probably on

orders.

A woman in nothing but a tight red dress saddled up to Elijah and smiled, her manicured hand

reaching for his. He wondered if she planned on strolling outside in that. She’d freeze to death. “Dance
with me,” she slurred in broken English with a thick German accent.

Elijah grabbed the hand and twisted it. “Touch me again, and I break it,” he said with an

innocent smile.

The woman was too drunk to remember the pretty man with a killer grip, and she stumbled back

into the crowd, rubbing her bruised fingers.

Across the room, Rowan straightened from his slouch, and his ears perked.
Good. That meant the alpha heard, and he’d be on the lookout.
Might as well make an entrance while he had the chance.
Elijah sauntered up to the bar and leaned against it. His gray tailored suit fit his slender frame,

showing off his narrow waist. He’d unbuttoned the dress shirt to reveal the promise of his chiseled
chest, shaved smooth. “Can I buy you a drink,” he asked.

Rowan tensed and his head shot to the side, a scowl on his lips. “Kane,” he grumbled. “What’re

you doing here?” His hands gripped the glass of beer. No doubt he was thinking of a way to capture or

kill Elijah right there. Or he was worried about his own skin and getting out of the club alive.

Elijah wasn’t going to make him feel at ease. What would be the fun in that? “Night out. I could

ask you the same thing.” Then he nodded at the bartender and ordered a vodka and tonic for himself
and another beer for Rowan. “Sure you don’t want something stronger?”

“No,” Rowan growled and turned on his barstool, facing Elijah completely. “This whole place

could be surrounded.”

“But it’s not,” Elijah said with a smirk. “Do you think I’m some kind of amateur? I’ve got to

say, I pegged you for the type right away. But this kind of club doesn’t seem your style.”

Rowan’s face remained impassive. No smile or frown, just those dark fathomless eyes. Elijah

could get lost in them. Not a good idea with an enemy and an alpha. But damn was it tempting.

The techno music throbbed throughout the whole building, and it reeked of sweat and booze.

Elijah smelled Rowan’s heady musk and heard the steady beat of the man’s heart. Strange, that usually
didn’t happen with other guys. Not even Maxim’s body spoke to Elijah like that.

“Looks like you don’t know much about me,” Rowan finally said and took a long sip of his beer.

“I’m not gay.”

Elijah smiled. Yeah. Fucking. Right. If Rowan said he wasn’t gay, he was too deep in the closet

to realize it. “Then fill me in, handsome.”

Slowly, Rowan’s eyes slid over Elijah’s body, head to toe. He leaned forward, a steady hand

running the length of Elijah’s firm chest, around his back and up. Elijah held his breath and fought the
shudder raking through his bones. Those powerful hands with the calloused fingers could touch him
like that any day. Of course, Rowan Gregor probably wanted to wring his neck with them, not tease
him into fits of pleasure.

The details always got in the way.
“No weapons,” Rowan grumbled and moved his hand back to his mug. “You think you can take

on an alpha barehanded?”

“Only if you promise to take me on barehanded too,” Elijah said and sipped his drink. The vodka

burned the back of his throat, pooling in his empty stomach. He should’ve eaten before he came in
here, but the lure of this strange alpha yanked him along like a baited fishing line. And he was the fish.

Of all the shifters in the world, it had to be a damn alpha wolf, didn’t it?
Now the music pounded in his ears and the warmth made him feel lightheaded – or maybe it was

sitting right next to a man sent to kill him. A man who didn’t even pull his gun or threaten Elijah in
anyway. That’s not what he was expecting.

He studied Rowan. Most alphas had raging tempers. Anger bubbling just under the surface. And

Elijah knew how to set it off. It was one of his specialties.

Maxim, the last alpha Elijah knew personally, had more anger than Elijah’s own father. Only

Maxim channeled his emotions much differently.

“I’ll shoot you the first chance I get,” Rowan said, and his knuckles whitened as he squeezed his

mug.

Elijah sensed the alpha then, tightly bound inside. Any little nudge could bring that rage to the

surface.

“Your partner tried. He didn’t fare well, remember?” The words slipped out, and he knew they

would sting. Or they should. If not, Rowan was a colder man than Elijah imagined.

Rowan shook his head, his jaw clenching. “Gloating won’t help. They know what you look like

now. They’ll find you.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Did you take a picture of me or is it just a sketch?”
“You’re hard to miss,” Rowan said and looked at the crowd of club kids swaying like lifeless

dolls to the dreadful music. They moved as one, and he tried to figure out who Rowan had his eye on.

The brunette in tight jean shorts? Or maybe that blonde in the corner, all tits and flowing hair.

Elijah smoothed his hands over his suit. “Are you flirting with me?”
Finally, Rowan’s carefully controlled expression faltered, and he raised both eyebrows. “What?

Flirting with an assassin?”

“It sounds so naughty when you put it like that,” Elijah said and took another sip of his drink.

Club vodka was a step above bathtub gin, and the overabundant amount of tonic water did nothing to
disguise the unpleasantness. Look what he was willing to put up with for a chat?

“And impossible,” Rowan growled, finishing his beer in one long gulp.
“Playing hard to get. I like that,” Elijah said and ran a slender finger over Rowan’s bicep. The

muscles tensed under his touch.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed and his hand hovered over his gun. “Listen, Kane. We’re in the middle

of a club, and I’m not in the mood for your mind games. You killed my partner. You’re an assassin.
Do you know how this is going to play out? Either I kill you or you kill me.”

Playing really hard to get – that made Rowan a challenge. Elijah took a deep breath and fingered

the rim of his glass lazily. It drove people crazy when he pretended to be cool and collected. He
learned that a long time ago.

“This is the perfect place to kill someone. The music would drown out the gunshot and if we

were on the dance floor, it’d take them a while to realize I didn’t just overdose on E. What are you
waiting for?” Elijah asked, his heart thudding.

Rowan glared and gritted his teeth, white and sharp in the club’s flashing lights.
A couple of drunken Czech girls saddled up to the bar next to them and shouted at the bartender.
Rowan didn’t take his eyes off Elijah. “I’m not you.”
“Oh, I think you’re very much like me. You just don’t get paid as well and you have that whole

secrecy bullshit to hold on to. Plus, you’re so angry. But that’s typical for an alpha, isn’t it.”

Rowan shook his head, his hair falling over his temples. “The alpha doesn’t matter.”
One of the woman’s eyes wandered to Rowan in his snug shirt and fitted jeans, showing off his

toned form and broad shoulders without going overboard.

Elijah glared at the stranger, and shoved down the sick twist in his gut. Jealousy was

unbecoming. “I think it does matter. I can tell by the way you look at me. Can’t deny I’m easy on the
eyes. I’m even better in bed.”

Rowan blinked, then the young woman nudged him and whispered something in his ear – dance

with me. Her lips were ruby red, and her hair as dark as the night sky.

Elijah gripped the glass in his hands.
Those dark eyes didn’t leave Elijah’s, but Rowan shrugged a strong arm over the drunken

woman’s shoulders and grimaced. “You’re not my type, Kane,” he said and walked away.

A smile was the only response Elijah could muster, even as ice shot through his stomach. Rowan

was a lying asshole. The alpha felt it as strongly as Elijah did himself. The pull, like the moon when
she turned full, begging them to howl and run beneath her light. Only this sensation wasn’t all together
pleasant. It churned in his gut, sharp as glass, and stabbed his chest. If he had a heart, it’d probably be
bruised.

Elijah downed the rest of his drink and watched Rowan disappear into the crowd, the Czech

woman cuddled under his arm.

Then he did the only thing he could do – the only thing he really knew how to do, besides kill

people and piss everyone off. He slipped into the shadows and followed Rowan Gregor home.

Elijah smiled grimly into the night air.
The Vltava river ambled nearby – the expansive surface draped in mist in this weather. Ice lined

the sides. They wandered down the thousand-year-old streets, past the great stone buildings that

towered overhead, their red tile roofs dull in the darkness.

The air slid into his suit, chilling him, but Elijah didn’t button up his shirt or give up the chase

to fetch his coat. That’s not how he did things.

Rowan didn’t even glance over his shoulder as he stumbled into the hotel next to the river.
Perfect place to dispose of a body, Elijah mused, jaw clenched.
The alpha’s room was on the second floor, and he didn’t bother turning on the lights as he

stumbled inside with his piece of ass. The shade was drawn, of course, so Elijah couldn’t see what
went on inside, but the sounds were loud enough to reach his ears in that quiet alley.

A zipper slipping down. A moan and grumble.
The woman’s breath, hot and heavy.
A slurp and whimper.
After an hour, the stone wall Elijah leaned against felt like ice. He frowned at the night sky.

What the hell was he doing out here?

He almost laughed at how ridiculous the whole situation was. Like the man said, this couldn’t

end well. Rowan was an alpha, and Elijah an omega. No matter what Elijah did, their stations wouldn’t
change. Rowan would always think Elijah was weak.

Plus, the bastard would try to kill Elijah, and he’d be forced to kill another alpha. Another wolf.

Something he thought he’d never have to do again.

A shiver traveled up his spine at the thought.
Maxim.
“Leave,” Rowan grumbled through the window, and Elijah heard a door open and close in the

hotel. The steady sound of Rowan’s breath filled the air, like the man stood right next to him. Elijah
imagined its warmth against his cheek and smiled.

A few moments later, the drunken woman stepped around the corner, cheeks flushed and reeking

of wolf musk and semen. She only managed to pull on one shoe, so she stumbled across the icy street.

“Nice night?” Elijah mused in Czech.
The woman glanced at him blearily and nodded. She probably wondered why his eyes glowed in

the shadows, icy blue. In another moment, she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

Elijah approached; his head cocked to the side and hands itching to snap bone.
Then a window creaked open and someone landed heavily on the cobblestones behind him.
Click.
A Sig 229. He’d know that sound anywhere.
Elijah smiled and moved behind the woman before Rowan could pull the trigger. Unless Rowan

didn’t mind shooting the lady he just fucked around with, that is.

“I was hoping you’d join us,” Elijah cooed and rubbed his hands over the drunk woman’s

smooth neck.

Rowan’s breath turned to clouds in the air. “Why’d you follow me?”
Elijah shrugged. “Why didn’t you open the shade and let me enjoy the show?”
Rowan’s face was stone. An unreadable mask in the darkness. Even his eyes blended in with the

shadows. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Trying to reason with me after you snubbed me? Not gonna work,” Elijah growled. “Come on,

don’t tell me you’ve never snapped a neck before. Feels good. Great way to work off all that pent up
rage.”

“You kill her, and I’ll kill you,” Rowan said.
The woman let out a broken sob. Elijah frowned and shoved the bubbling guilt aside. He had a

point to make, even if she didn’t deserve to be hurt. “You assume you can kill me. I got away once,
and I can do it again. But I’ll even the odds, just to give you a better chance.”

Elijah gripped the woman’s head.
“No!” Rowan cried and stepped forward.
Elijah smiled, his hands wandering down to the woman’s arms. He grabbed them both and

twisted. They snapped easily, like twigs from a tree, and the girl screamed. She crumpled to the
ground as her eyes rolled back in her head.

“Baby. I’ve had worse,” Elijah said regretfully and stepped over the unconscious body at his

feet. He spared her life, but it got the same point across. No one should fuck with him. “Now you see
what happens when you anger me. It’s not pretty. Next time, someone might die.”

The gun was still aimed at Elijah, and Rowan’s hands were as steady as his gaze. What the hell

was he doing? Taunting a guy trying to kill him. Not a smart move. But that strange pull yanked him
forward.

Reason and self-preservation had nothing to do with it. He needed this alpha to see him – respect

him—and he had no idea why.

Elijah stopped when he stood three feet from Rowan. A gun shot wound at that proximity would

be fatal if the alpha hit him in the heart or the head. Even a wolf couldn’t survive that.

“Well? This easy enough for you?”
Cracks appeared in Rowan’s stony expression. His dark eyes asked a question, the same question

flitting through Elijah’s mind at the tug that drew them together. The thread that stitched into his
chest, urging him toward the alpha who wanted him dead.

Why you?
“What’s the matter? Don’t like an easy target? I can jump around if that makes it more

interesting,” Elijah said with a smile.

Footsteps pattered down the alley to the left, trying to be sneaky.
“Gregor, is that him?” a woman asked and cocked her own gun. Elijah didn’t even have to face

her to know it was trained on him.

“Another partner? You know what I’m going to do to them. All of them. Better tell her to back

up,” Elijah said pleasantly.

“She has a gun. You don’t,” Rowan grumbled under his breath. Low enough that only Elijah

could hear.

“Now we’re confidants? How intimate.”
Rowan frowned, jaw clenched.
Elijah wished he could lean forward and touch that jaw – run his fingers over the stubble and

kiss that delicious pout. Damn the woman behind him who made it impossible. He turned toward her.

“You’re first mistake was–”
The gunshot ripped through the air before he could finish. His flesh burned as it seared his

shoulder, hotter than a normal bullet. It sizzled and throbbed, and the only thing Elijah could think
was that his suit was ruined.

Then he realized the bullet came from behind.
Rowan shot him, not the woman.
Had he misjudged everything so badly? Read the signs wrong?
Turning, he met Rowan’s eyes and glared. The mask was back – unreadable and stoic. If that’s

how he wanted to play this, Elijah had no choice but to oblige him.

A wave of new pain rocked his body.
Silver. That bullet was silver.
The bastard!
Elijah charged forward and dove into the river. The icy water stole the breath from his lungs, but

he pressed his lips shut and forced his eyes open. The swift current carried him away.

Talk about an inglorious way to end an evening.
This was the worst.

Chapter Three

“You let him get away again,” Thompson hissed and glanced at the unconscious woman

crumpled on the cobblestones.

The sharp tang of Kane’s blood filled the air, mixed with silver, and a wave of nausea rose in his

gut. Rowan’s shoulder ached down to the bone, his entire body weary from a night on edge. He didn’t
expect Kane to approach him in the nightclub. What the hell did the assassin want?

You in bed, crossed Rowan’s mind, but he shoved that thought aside. Especially since it lit a fire

in his groin – a fire he thought that woman put out for the time being. But the alpha nudged him. It
seethed and roared, like it always did close to the full moon. Looks like she wasn’t enough to subdue
the beast.

But he had other things to worry about.
The assassin was playing at something – or he was horny and attracted to Rowan.
Both thoughts were equally unsettling.
Kane was an assassin, a fellow wolf, and a man. Rowan had no interest getting involved with

any of those.

“Did you hear me? We’ve got to canvass the city. Look for his body. No one could survive in

that river long,” Thompson said. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

Rowan frowned. No person could survive but a wolf might. Even a wolf with a silver bullet in

his shoulder.

Kane was too good to go down so easily. But that’s not how Rowan knew the assassin wasn’t

dead. A dull thud in his chest, like a second heart, beat alongside his own.

“Yeah. If we can’t find him, we should assume he lived. I only got him in the shoulder,” Rowan

said, and rubbed his left arm. The world around him blurred, and he blinked to bring it back into focus.

“Hey? Gregor? What’s wrong?” Thompson said and ran toward him, her heels clacking on the

cobblestones.

Rowan widened his eyes in perfect recollection.
That was supposed to be a myth. Like Yue, the moon goddess, and her lover, Ashina, the wolf

who turned into a man to have her. Wolf shifters were supposed to be their children, but no one but the
Old Ones really believed that anymore. His own parents didn’t even have that sort of connection.

“Gregor!”
He looked at the moon, and her Cheshire grin mocked him. This is what he got for his life of

solitude. His denial of his own kind. The way he used women and tossed them aside like candy
wrappers.

The cold air reached into his throat and stole his breath, wrapping him in a shroud and pulling

him to the damp ground.

Bitch, he thought as the world fell into darkness.

* * *

Rowan woke to the buzz of a communicator and the smell of coffee. He wrinkled his nose and

rubbed his head. It throbbed, and he shivered under the quilt bundled on top of him. He blinked and
noticed Thompson watching him from a chair in the corner.

The curtains were thrown back to reveal simple, modern furniture. A thin ray of sunlight broke

through the clouds and shone, pale gold, across the wooden floor. Not a safe house – this must be her
hotel. It was a lot nicer than the budget hotel he stayed in. The Colonel was playing favorites again.

“You passed out, and I was left to clean up your mess. Do you know how hard it is to explain to

a cabbie why a woman with two broken arms is unconscious in an alley with my boyfriend?”

Rowan flinched at the word. Thompson was the farthest thing from his type. A cool detachment

colored everything she did. Sure, she was beautiful and a good agent, but nothing about her turned him
on in the least. The only thing the alpha wanted to do was wring Thompson’s neck.

Just like the moon, he thought and flinched as he sat up.
“You got a cabbie involved?” he asked. A bruise decorated his left shoulder in the same place he

shot Kane. Streaks of black ran under the skin like veins. His body was reacting to a piece of silver
that wasn’t there.

Thompson rolled her eyes. “Do you think I had a choice? I couldn’t drag you back here on my

own. You’re lucky I did. I could’ve dumped you in the river with Kane.”

She could have, but she didn’t. Rowan wasn’t about to thank her for it. While their boss favored

her, he still had his uses.

He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Besides his shoulder and the chill

raking through his veins, nothing else hurt. That meant a couple things. One, Kane was alive. Two –
shit, he didn’t even want to think about that.

“What happened?” she demanded and walked over to the bed, looming over him in her dress

suit. It pinched in at the waist, exaggerating her slender figure. “Did he attack you before I showed
up?”

Rowan fingered the bruise and nodded slowly. This is where it got tricky. His entire life was a

world of partial truths. The CIA knew he was a wolf. They even knew he was a lone alpha, but they
treated it like something they could control. As it they were doing him a favor. Saving him from an
uncertain and antiquated way of life. Who wanted to live in Old One territory anyway?

Like most humans, they didn’t really understand shifters.
Rowan couldn’t very well say: I shot Kane with a silver bullet, but I know he survived. I can feel

him.

They’d think he lost his damn mind.
Plus, there was the second part of the equation that Rowan didn’t even want to entertain at the

moment. Elijah Kane hadn’t laid a finger on him, yet this wound spoke otherwise.

He’d only heard about that happening in stories. Myths. The way Yue and Ashina were held

together though they lived such a great distance apart, bound by a red thread. But those were legends.
No connection was supposed to exist like that in real life.

But Rowan felt it twisting inside him. .
“And what about the woman with the broken arms?” she demanded and sipped her coffee, foot

tapping.

“She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Rowan glanced out the window. The weak

sunlight lit up the bright red roofs across Prague. The Vltava shimmered with it in the distance, lined
with ice.

“Or she was another one night stand that you picked up in the middle of a mission. I’m going to

report that,” Thompson said, as if she were a little girl telling an adult that he uttered a cuss word.

Rowan shook his head, trying not to laugh. His indiscretions had been known for years. As long

as he did the job and kept his cover, no one cared. “You do that.”

“You think this is funny? A dangerous assassin got away under your watch for the second time

in a week. Oh, and this is after your partner was gunned down at Kane’s hand. And you were busy
fucking the locals.”

When she put it like that, it sounded all kinds of unprofessional. Rowan stared at her and

shrugged. “One local, yes. I was trying to lure Kane to me. It worked differently than I imagined.”

She stared at him, eyebrows raised in prompting.
Rowan took a deep breath and pushed the pain aside so he could clear his thoughts. Yue might

think he had a connection with Kane, but she didn’t know what she was doing. Rowan made up his
mind to steer clear of other wolves years ago. He dedicated his life to living like a human.

No pack. No chance of said pack dying and leaving him on his own.
Again.
Plus, Elijah Kane was a murderer. Dangerous. Rowan was a trained CIA agent. He was supposed

to deal with unpleasant shit like this. It wasn’t a betrayal of his own kind to kill Kane. It was his job.

His gut clenched at that thought.
“Kane approached me at a nightclub.”
Thompson’s eyes widened. “Never mind what you were doing in a nightclub, why didn’t you

dispose of him right there?”

Rowan glowered at her. She would ask something like that. “Too many people. Look, he’s trying

to play some kind of mind game with me. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but he didn’t try to kill me.
You saw him last night. The bastard didn’t have a weapon on him.”

She gripped the cup in her hands. It must be cool by now, but she sipped it without letting that

on. She probably didn’t even taste it. “So you led him there, and he attacked. At least we know for sure
he’s a wolf. Kane broke that woman’s arms with his bare hands.”

Rowan shrugged. His stomach grumbled. A sharp pain shot from his shoulder to the base of his

skull. The light in the room blinded him momentarily, and he blinked the ache away.

Thompson studied him. Of course she wouldn’t ask how he felt. Or what Kane did to him. Not

that Rowan could explain it. “What did Kane say exactly?”

This is where it got tricky. Rowan glowered. “He flirted with me.”
Her mouth dropped open and a little spark lit her eyes. “Kane flirted with you? Is he gay or just

messing around?”

Kane was gay – Rowan spotted that right off. He wasn’t going to admit that part either. “Not

sure.”

“Let me get this straight. Kane flirted with you, but you went home with a woman. Then he

broke that woman’s arms, hit you in the shoulder at some point, and you shot him? Did he give you
any information about his next mark? Say where he was staying?”

The skin on Rowan’s back bristled at being questioned by a fellow agent, someone who didn’t

rank any higher than he did. The alpha clawed at his insides.

He balled his hands into fists, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t attack Thompson if he wanted to

keep his job, no matter how badly the alpha yearned for the snap of bones and the bright red heat of
blood. “Look. I told you what I know. He didn’t kill me. He flirted, and I led him back to my place to
draw him out of the club. Then he attacked.”

It was only partially true. The blood pounded in Rowan’s groin as he gulped his beer and looked

at Kane’s mouth – studied those unearthly eyes. Patting Kane down for weapons didn’t help the
situation, and Rowan wasn’t about to go back to the hotel and beat one off like a teenager. He told
himself it wasn’t a man he was attracted to; it was the trauma of losing a partner that clouded his
mind. He might as well take someone home to do the honors, like usual.

Kane following him was an unexpected perk. Rowan thought he could shoot the assassin in the

head and be done with it. But at the last moment, his breath caught in his throat. Rowan moved his aim
to Kane’s shoulder. There was a good chance Kane would survive that wound, even with a silver
bullet.

But he couldn’t admit that to Thompson. Couldn’t admit he had the chance to kill Kane, and he

didn’t take the shot.

Thankfully, she didn’t ask anymore questions, even if her gaze narrowed. She nodded and

moved to her communications set. “We have to report this. All of it.”

“I know,” Rowan said, trying to keep his voice even.
Weariness yanked at him, begging him to close his eyes and sleep. But another feeling welled up

beside it – a persistence to move forward. To survive, no matter what. He’d felt that before on a frozen
winter’s day in a cabin drenched in his family’s blood.

The scent of silver and wolf’s bane stung his nose. He retched up the last of his meager dinner

from the night before and rolled on his back, staring at the unforgiving night sky. Yue, bright yet so far
away, did nothing to help them. Nothing to save her own children!

Staying there was death, but leaving everything behind felt like he was giving up part of himself.

Denying who and what he was. The alpha wanted to howl – to attack, but that would give his position
away to the hunters.

On his own, he didn’t stand a chance.
Rowan closed his eyes and shook the thought away.
“Colonel Greer,” Thompson said once she got their boss on a secure line. “We have a report that

needs immediate attention.”

Thankfully it was only audio. No video. Rowan didn’t want to look into the man’s steely gaze

and try to compose himself when he wasn’t sure if he could even walk.

“Go ahead Thompson,” the man said, the voice of someone used to being obeyed.
She told him everything.
Thompson should’ve let him eat before she made the report, but she probably didn’t want him to

be comfortable, even if she didn’t know about the phantom silver working its way through his system.

“How bad is this injury?” the Colonel asked.
Thompson glanced at Rowan. “Not good, sir. It looks like a bruise, but Gregor’s paler than

normal with bags under his eyes. Do you think he poisoned you?” she asked.

Rowan poisoned himself, in a way. He shook his head. “It might’ve been something I drank. I

need to rest for a few days, then I’ll get back on his trail, sir.”

Colonel Greer took a deep breath, and Rowan pictured the man’s strong neck bulging under his

collar. “So you think Kane’s still alive?”

Thompson’s eyes flicked to the window and the Vltava beyond. “I reported a drunk falling into

the river last night. The local police haven’t found his body yet. Unless he’s still in the water.”

“That’s not what I asked. Why does Agent Gregor think Kane’s alive?” the Colonel demanded.
Rowan licked his lips. ‘I can feel it’ wouldn’t make sense to them. “Call it a hunch, sir. I could

be wrong.” But he wasn’t.

The Colonel was silent for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat. “If he’s alive, you will get

back on Kane’s trail, but you’re not going to kill him. Not yet. If he has an interest in you, exploit it.
Earn his trust and find out who he’s working for. We have intel that Kane has ties to Serbian terrorist
cells, maybe some of the old European packs as well. Make certain of this. We could get a read on
their entire network.”

Rowan frowned, heart slamming. No ancient pack would work with humans, not on that

continent. And gaining Kane’s trust? That was the last thing he expected. The last thing Kane was
going to give him, fellow wolf or not. Flirting was one thing; giving away his livelihood was another.

“Sir, he knows who I am. No way in hell he’ll trust me with information like that.”
The Colonel huffed. “Are you refusing a direct order?”
You’re the only wolf we have, Rowan thought blearily. But how could he spy on someone who

knew he was a spy? “No, sir,” Rowan said, clenching his hands into fists. “But Kane will kill me
before he’ll tell me anything.”

“Then figure out a way to earn his trust. Seduce him if you have to. Thompson can give you

some tips, I’m sure. You’re in this alone, but you’ll report to Thompson what you find. That’s all,” the
Colonel said and the line buzzed with static.

At least Greer wasn’t going to make them work together. Some good came out of it.
Rowan stared at his hands. The pit in his stomach that begged to be filled with food or sex,

flooded with a new sensation. One he hadn’t felt since he was a boy. He swallowed and frowned.

He was an alpha – a CIA agent. He could catch one omega, no matter how wily.
Thompson sat down, crossing her legs. “Seducing an assassin who knows who and what you are

– how fun,” she said with a mocking grin.

He ignored her and flopped back into bed. They were using him for his special talents again, and

he had to follow orders or he’d get shoved behind a desk where the alpha would go insane with rage.
He needed field missions to keep from going on a rampage.

Even if it meant Rowan was a pig led to the slaughter.
Unless he slaughtered Kane first.
The wound in his shoulder pinched at that thought, and Rowan grimaced at the ceiling.

Chapter Four

Elijah wasn’t going to let a silver bullet or a river kill him. He’d survived worse at the hands of

an alpha; he’d survive this.

The current yanked him downstream. Despite the sharp pang in his shoulder and the silver

poisoning his blood, he swam for the underside of the bridge. First things first, he needed to get out of
the water before he froze to death.

The stone slipped under his numb fingers, and he gasped for air, gripping with all his waning

strength. Slowly, he pulled himself up the shore, through the ice, and tumbled onto the slick
cobblestones. He rolled on his back and let out a cloud of breath at the starry night sky.

The moon mocked him with her grin. Elijah stuck his tongue out at her.
All those years ago, he sought comfort in Yue’s cool gaze. But she wasn’t a kind goddess. She

watched him suffer for years. Let him bleed and break under the hands of his pack.

And now this.
She shoved a gorgeous alpha in front of him, only to snatch him back.
Oh, and never mind that Rowan claimed he wasn’t gay. What the hell was that about? He sure

sized Elijah up with enough kinetic energy to light a goddamn forest fire. Not gay Elijah’s very fine
ass.

She must hate omegas. That’s what Elijah thought long ago. Now he sneered at her silvery smile

and sat back on his elbows. The bullet exited his body, so no piece of silver was lodged inside. And the
cold water slowed the bleeding. Two positives on an otherwise shitty night.

All he had to do now was stumble someplace safe and tend to his wounds.
“I’m still alive,” he said to the moon. “You haven’t killed me yet.”
Like always, the distant goddess didn’t respond.
A jolt of energy surged through him then. His heartbeat quickened, and Elijah felt the steady

thump of another heart – albeit distant, pumping next to his own. He touched his chest and grimaced.
It relieved some of the pain, and warmth seeped into his bones, as if someone else’s energy blended
with his own.

That’s not something that happened every day.
Was it like those rumors he’d heard as a boy? The stories his grandma told him about her first

love?

Her mate?
Everyone said she was crazy, and Elijah was prone to believe it. Her mind was crumbling at that

point, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some truth to her words.

Still, if he didn’t get out of those wet clothes soon he’d turn into a walking icicle.
For now, Elijah needed to focus on his own survival and not a mystery sensation. He climbed to

his feet and stumbled down the deserted street.

No doubt that second agent, the woman, was looking for him right now.
He hailed a cab. In the darkness, a human couldn’t make out the blood on his suit. The man

drove Elijah to his hotel, and the assassin frowned at his own sloppiness. He should switch cabs
several times, then double back to be sure he wasn’t followed.

The shivers raking his body told him differently. Plus, he could hardly make it to his room as it

was. No way he’d survive a night driving around Prague just to throw off a spy. If she caught him, so
be it.

Once inside, he leaned against the door and stripped off the wet clothes. Then he crawled into

the bathroom and filled the tub with hot water. The cold felt like it froze his muscles to his bones, and
no matter what he did he’d never get warm.

When he shut his eyes, darkness surrounded him, and he fell into the past.
It was so black he couldn’t see his palm right in front of his nose. The sharp stabs of frozen dirt

chilled his backside and his tiny body shook with every breath. He knew it misted in the air. He sensed
the moisture, but no matter how he strained he couldn’t see anything. Not the faintest sliver of light.
Then Simeon gripped his hand, reminding Elijah he wasn’t alone.

His little brother needed him.
The alpha would get them soon. He wouldn’t let them die down there.
Elijah scowled at the thought and eased into the tub. He’d never be that weak again – that

useless. Putting trust and hope in someone else’s good nature never turned out well.

You either fight to survive or you die.
He was going to survive.
After a long soak, his head was light. However, he no longer felt like his body was wrapped in

ice. He dried off and looked at the hole in his shoulder. The singed flesh inched together; only it didn’t
heal as quickly as possible. That was the silver’s fault.

Wolves healed quicker than humans, unless weakened.
Which meant Rowan knew Elijah was coming after him, or he always carried silver bullets just

in case.

Elijah bet on the former. It’s not like he disguised it well – and some of the assholes he killed

deserved to have their hearts ripped out. Or their throats torn with sharp claws while their blood
spilled all over the floor.

But most people didn’t see his work the same way he did – divine retribution for a life of crime.

And hell, the money didn’t hurt either.

Now, Elijah’s own blood was the problem. It dripped down his arm in thick rivulets, purging the

silver from his system. Little black lines trailed from the wound, like spider legs. The silver wasn’t
lodged in his skin, but it made enough contact to poison his blood. That kind of damage would take
over a week to heal, maybe more if he wasn’t careful. And Elijah couldn’t stay in Prague for several
days when he was wounded and on the CIA’s hit list.

He wrapped his shoulder in gauze, one handed. Good thing his former trainer taught him well.

Caring for your own wounds is the only way you’ll survive, Walter would say. No one else is gonna do
it for you.

At the time, Elijah would’ve argued. Opening his big mouth to make a point, while Si did as he

was told, calmly wrapping his pretend wounds with quiet patience.

Simeon – Elijah hadn’t thought of his little brother in a long time and his chest ached dully. If he

had a heart, he might be willing to call Si and see how he was doing, if Simeon was even in human
territory at the moment. He could be deep in shifter territory, where the Old Ones kept things like cell
phones or any other piece of electricity from working at all.

Last Elijah heard, his brother was somewhere in Asia doing the same thankless work as Elijah

himself.

What else were boys trained as assassins supposed to do? Go into politics?
Elijah frowned at himself in the mirror. Dark circles lined his vivid eyes and his cheeks looked

hollow in the fluorescent light. Would Si even recognize him now after all these years?

Not only had Rowan shot him in the shoulder and weakened him – the damn alpha diffused

Elijah’s beauty as well. That thought sent a stab to his chest, and he frowned at the dull beat of the
other heart and the gentle sound of a snore in his ear.

What the hell was Yue trying to tell him? Something about Rowan or –
The beat intensified, the calm breath soothing the lines around his eyes and easing the ache in

his shoulder until it throbbed slightly.

That almost confirmed it. This had something to do with Rowan, but Elijah had no idea what.

The wolf lore he remembered was lost when his pack died – well, they were heinously murdered. Only
gran died before any of that unpleasantness. And she took his connection to most other wolves with
her.

All Elijah had after that was Simeon and their trainer – Walter. He might’ve been a former

omega, like them, but he wasn’t about to tell them the history of their kind. Rejecting the society of
wolves was part of their training. It helped them move freely throughout the world without being
weighed down by a pack or the search for a mate.

It was all bullshit anyway.
Any wolf could say they found their mate, but only true mates, connected to each other at the

soul, were really blessed by Yue and Ashina.

And what were the chances of one wolf finding his mate in a huge overpopulated world? Not to

mention the world had two sides, one human and one shifter. No one could traverse all of it just to find
a mate.

Slim to none didn’t cover it.
Elijah shoved all thoughts of the past from his mind. The present pressed on him with issues that

needed attention.

A hearty meal and a good night’s sleep helped, but it was still a chore to get out of bed the next

day. He might’ve stayed if not for the message on his phone. It was a secure line – one only a few
people had access to – his handler.

For a moment he wished it was Si or even Rowan, then he realized how stupid that was. Neither

of them knew his number. Well, Simeon could figure it out; he was good at stuff like that.

“We have a job for you,” a woman said, sounding bored. She spoke English with a heavy

Russian accent. Elijah never knew her name, only that she sounded like someone who wore red.

“Goody. I was starting to get bored,” he said and tried not to let the weariness seep into his

voice. If she knew he was injured, she might stop giving him jobs. That’d be just as bad as a death
sentence; he needed to keep working to stay alive.

She didn’t laugh. “The mark is Boleslav Banik in Liptovsky Hradok, Slovakia.” Right on the

borderlands. A shiver raked over Elijah’s spine. He hadn’t been in that area in close to ten years. “Ten
thousand in advance. Thirty more once the job is done.”

Typical going rate for assassinating a warlord nowadays.
That was the Butcher’s territory, filled with nothing but warlords, hunters and the Butcher

himself. He ran half of Eastern Europe at the moment – the human half.

Thinking of that man froze Elijah’s blood in his veins. Fear that intense didn’t course through

him since he escaped. Almost nothing scared him, not now, but Elijah knew the stories about the
Butcher were true – he’d seen the results firsthand. Known the man’s cruelty better than anyone.

And if it bothered a seasoned assassin, that was saying something.
But Banik was just one of the underlings on the outskirts of the Butcher’s reaches. The local

shifters would keep to their own territory, and the hunters wouldn’t expect a wolf bold enough to walk
amongst them. Just Elijah’s kind of place. He watched the sun peek through the blinds. “When?”

“No more than a month. Understood?”
“Yes.” Even with the risk of the Butcher looming over Elijah, he accepted the job, including the

risks and the lovely paycheck that came with it. He’d just work extra hard to stay under the Butcher’s
radar.

His chest stung as he hung up. Liptovsky Hradok was a long way from Prague. Who knows how

long it would take Rowan to track him there. Or if Rowan would even be the one to follow his trail.

That meant Elijah might not get to enact his very special flavor of revenge for a while. Revenge

that included handcuffs and changing Rowan’s stubborn ass mind about certain things.

Good thing he was a patient man when he needed to be.
Plus, Banik had to die, and killing over confident warlords was a blast any day of the week. Pun

intended.

Elijah packed as quickly as his injury allowed. Which meant he flinched every time he moved.

Better get it out of his system while he could. Letting anyone see the weakness would make him more
vulnerable than he ever wanted to be again.

Prague sparkled around him, and he took a deep breath of the cold air. Rowan was somewhere

out there, and if Elijah was right, he felt the same ache.

The same pain.
He’d have to thank Yue someday. This time, she had helped him.
But an unsettling thought rose with it. That meant the myths were true. The old magic only the

most ancient shifters believed, like his wrinkled grandmother.

While human territory got modern technological advancements, like cell phones and the

Internet, most shifters lived in territory where none of that was possible. Instead, power bristled under
the surface and through the trees. Elijah’s gran told him tales that some wolves could harness such
power. It was that power that helped them change shapes and kept them close to Yue’s light.

He’d been away from Old One territory for seventeen years, but he still shifted when the moon

turned full. He still changed whenever the mood struck him, as well.

But this power was stranger.
Older.
Sure, attraction was possible, but not the deep connection Yue and Ashina promised their

children. The way they were bound to one another with a thread made of heartstring – bright red and
dripping blood. It wound through time and over continents, pulling mates together.

Only Elijah never heard of it actually happening to anyone besides his grandmother. No one else

in his pack had that strange connection. And what if it was all in his mind?

Not to mention, Elijah had an assassination to plan. He couldn’t spend his time worrying about

an alpha that wanted him dead. Rowan would have to get in line, and it was a long one.

He hailed another cab and gave directions to the warehouse district. Drogo owed him a favor,

and Elijah was going to call it in today.

The pain shot through his shoulder as he climbed out, his small suitcase balanced in his good

hand, and he fought to keep signs of the injury from his face. Showing his weakness in front of an
associate wasn’t a good idea. They’d all stab him in the back someday.

Assassins didn’t make friends.
His shoes clicked over the cobblestones, and the weak rays of sunlight melted the ice so he

didn’t slip and fall on his ass. That wouldn’t make him look intimidating at all, and Elijah already
didn’t have much to work with.

But being short and pretty had its advantages in other ways. No one ever suspected he was a

killer, for one.

“Drogo!” he called when he stepped inside.
Line after line of shiny sports cars filled the warehouse. Bright cherry red and cheerful yellow.

The most expensive cars in the world – some one of a kind – and Elijah ran his finger over the smooth
body of a black Aston Martin as he passed.

Cars weren’t his thing, but an assassin needed a nice ride.

A few heads whipped in Elijah’s direction, but they turned away. Anyone who worked here knew

better than to stare at a potential customer.

Drogo’s bald head popped out of his office. His coveralls were streaked in grease and tight on

his belly. It jiggled as he rose a hand and forced a smile. It was the way most people who knew Elijah
smiled – an act that hid the fear underneath.

Elijah smelled it on him.
“What do I owe the pleasure?” he asked in Czech. At least he didn’t try to practice his English

this time. That’d only make Elijah’s head hurt worse.

Elijah tapped a bright blue Porsche. “Transportation. I won’t be returning it.”
Drogo kept that idiot grin, although underneath it Elijah saw him working to come up with a

solution – a way to give the assassin a car that wouldn’t be missed. “Yes. Yes. I can do that.”

“Something low profile so I don’t attract attention,” Elijah added, though he did enjoy watching

Drogo squirm.

The man pointed at a black Audi, and Elijah eyed its slick curves. Cool enough to make a

statement, but not so gaudy it made him a target. Any well to do Eastern European might drive
something like that. Part of him wanted to argue and give Drogo a hard time, but he was in a rush.
Plus, his legs felt like spaghetti at the moment.

Who knows how close the CIA was to catching him now?
“It’ll do,” he said and sighed. “Does it have a clean registration? Full of petrol?”
Drogo nodded. “Yes. Of course. Only the best for you.”
Elijah smiled, showing the glint of his fangs. Considering his line of work, most people thought

he filed them to points. If Drogo thought Elijah was a wolf, he did well keeping his mouth shut about
it. “Good. And you know you can’t tell anyone I was here, or I’ll have to kill you. Hell, I’ll kill
everyone in this room. Got it?”

Drogo swallowed. “O-of course. Let me get the keys,” he said and walked back into his office.

His way of saying ‘get this crazy motherfucker out of my garage.’

Elijah didn’t argue with that assessment. The more people who were frightened of him, the

better. It’s one of the things Walter taught them. Build a reputation for yourself. That way, you don’t
have to dissuade anyone from attack.

It worked, for the most part. Even Rowan gave him that wary look, like he didn’t know what

Elijah was capable of.

After Drogo handed Elijah the keys, and he threw his suitcase in the front seat and drove out of

Prague.

No one followed him.
His shoulder ached. As long as he made it to the border by nightfall he’d have a good head start.
It took a week to get to Liptovsky Hradok. Not only was the drive obnoxious, considering the

state of most roads in the surrounding countries, but he also couldn’t travel as fast as he would’ve
liked with that wound. Over the next few days, the blood turned black as the poison leaked from his
system. Fatigue plagued him at every turn, and Elijah wasn’t about to drive at night. He’d end up in a
ditch and freeze to death.

Plus, he couldn’t drive straight from Prague to Liptovsky Hradok, not when the Old One

territory dissected Europe like it did. Whole mountains and forests were off limits, unless he wanted
to hike through them and explain his presence to a bunch of unfriendly European shifters in their
Medieval style kingdoms, complete with cottages and castles. Oh, and all the grime and violence that
came with it.

Elijah didn’t.
No matter how he taunted Rowan, he didn’t want to die. So he stuck to the human roads.

Finally, the bruise lightened and the black streaks faded to yellow and blue. But the strange dual

heartbeat thumped alongside his, and when he slept he heard the rumble of another man breathing next
to him.

It snowed as Elijah drove into Liptovsky Hradok. A light brush of white flakes covered the drab

brown fields around the town and the thick fir forest to the north. It tapered off into Old One territory
somewhere inside that forest. He smelled the distant tinge of musk on the air and sensed the Old Ones
who lived inside those woods. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as the bristling magic tingled
against his skin.

Liptovsky Hradok looked marginally better under the coat of white. The bare trees and squat

gray buildings, which sprung up during the Soviet Era, couldn’t detract from the town’s true age. The
ancient church in the square, its graveyard overflowing with headstones that dated back a millennia,
was still in use, though the stone crumbled and the roof sagged.

The other buildings huddled together around the church. Unlike their lively counterparts in

tourist friendly towns, they weren’t painted bright colors and most looked hunched and miserable
under the gray overcast sky with the snow fluttering on everything in sight.

Or maybe he was projecting his own feelings on the town itself, Elijah thought as he drove down

the street.

Banik lived in the castle at the edge of town. Real subtle, this one. He didn’t even bother

building himself a new home with his vast wealth – the wealth he gathered by drug smuggling and
human trafficking. Instead, he bought a damn castle. That took balls, and the ballsy ones were always
the most fun.

Elijah spotted it right off when he drove in. The girls in short skirts stood in little groups and

trembled. Blue lips and hollow eyes – the eyes of someone with no hope left in the world.

He knew that look; Simeon had it when they were young. When their alpha – their father –

finished with Elijah and started on Si. The asshole’s hands balled into meaty fists. Those blue gray
eyes shining in the darkness. His black hair falling around his face like sweeps of shadow come to life.
After a while, the pain just disappeared, and Si went to live in a different place. One deep inside his
own head.

Maybe, at one time, Elijah had that look in his eyes too. He never really noticed. His brother

might still have it. Elijah wouldn’t know.

By the time Elijah finally worked up the courage to fight back and right the wrongs done to them

for so many years, Simeon wasn’t the sweet little boy he’d been before. The one who brought grandma
flowers when she was lucid enough not to beat them. To remember she didn’t hate them like everyone
else did.

Elijah realized he waited too long, and Simeon was lost to him. Even Walter couldn't fix Si. The

man who was more like a father to them than their own, no matter how badly Elijah tried to deny it at
the time. His chest ached at that thought.

Would killing the warlord who spread pain like butter fix anything in his own past? No. But it’d

be fun to watch the bastard squirm as Elijah ripped off his fingers. He’d have to be sure he killed the
warlord on the full moon.

The whore houses stood on nearly every corner. The entire village, once a jewel of the past, was

now overrun with thugs, drug dens and sex slaves.

Elijah climbed out of the car. He popped his collar against the wind and shoved his fists into his

pockets. The thick wool took off most of the chill, but his ears felt close to freezing. Too bad a hat
would ruin his whole look. Unacceptable for someone so pretty.

The problem with men like Banik wasn’t just his megalomania (the asshole lived in a castle for

fuck’s sake!); it was also his inherent paranoia. He didn’t let just anyone into his inner circle, and

bodyguards flanked him at all times. Big meaty Slovaks who probably snapped bones as easily as a
wolf.

That meant Elijah had to get close enough to kill the bastard, and he only had three more weeks

to do it. He told himself the Butcher wouldn’t find out he was here. No way the man even remembered
someone like him.

The thought was little comfort. Who could forget Elijah, after what he’d done?
But he had a job to do, and three weeks was enough time to finish it while keeping under the

radar.

No time like the present.

Chapter Five

The next day was the full moon, and a weather advisory over the radio warned of a coming

blizzard – a snow storm stronger than any seen in that area in the last fifty years.

Just what Rowan needed this close to finding Kane!
Inside, the alpha paced and scratched, trapped in the cage of a man. Rowan sucked in a deep

breath through his nose to calm it, but at this time of month almost nothing he did worked.

Another sensation prickled the back of Rowan’s shoulders, like someone watched him from

behind, and he fought the urge to turn. If someone was watching him, he didn’t want to give away that
he knew about it.

His bizarre wound healed completely, though it still ached when he pulled his gun from the

holster. Maybe he shouldn’t have used a silver bullet, though how was he supposed to know this crazy
shit would happen?

It took nearly a month to find Kane’s whereabouts, and the entire time Rowan tried to ignore the

second heart beating faintly in his chest – then not so faintly as he drew near.

That wasn’t the strangest part. It was this sense that came over him as he followed Kane’s trail.

He knew when a lead was nothing more than a dead end and when he was headed in the right direction.

Some of the intel Thompson gave him was even wrong, and Rowan dismissed it right away. As

if his entire being was a compass and it pointed to Kane.

Maybe that’s why Yue connected them – to help Rowan catch Kane. It was a better explanation

than the other one.

Now he sat in an old VW down the street from the town’s castle. The rutted lane was pitted with

mud and snow. It ended at a drawbridge and a moat filled with muddy water and covered in a thin
layer of ice.

And Kane was inside the castle or very nearby. Of course the assassin wasn’t about to make

Rowan’s life easy – no one was.

He held the heat sensor binoculars to his eyes and frowned at the number of signatures inside.

The man who lived there rarely left, and he was Kane’s target.

If Kane was already inside, maybe he was pulling the job tonight.
Vaguely, Rowan imagined chasing Kane for the rest of his life. Playing an on going game of cat

and mouse until they both grew weary of the whole thing. No. They’d kill each other first. That’s how
things ended for men like them – at least, men like Kane.

Rowan didn’t know how his life would end, but he doubted it’d be of old age surrounded by a

family who loved him. That chance died with his pack.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed a young girl stagger down the street. Her cheeks

sunk into the bones of her face, so thin she looked skeletal, and when she smiled her teeth were black
and rotted. Heroin. Here in the borderlands, the only police were the warlords and the hunters.

Rowan had nothing against a bastard like Banik dying. Unfortunately, wiping out one warlord

wouldn’t clean up this town. It wouldn’t help these girls find peace and comfort here. Another asshole
would step in and take his place, an ongoing battle against a dark tide.

But it was a start.
The pull on his chest lessened, and the cold air filled with a musk he’d never forget. A sudden

warmth filled him. Gentle warmth slipped over his heart and eased the pain hardened there. Then the
door popped open, and Kane slipped into the passenger seat and smiled. “Long time no see. You shot

me.”

Rowan tightened his jaw and shrugged. That’s who was watching him! “You broke that woman’s

arms. You deserved it.”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember her name! I guess she’s not having a little baby Rowan

Gregor if you can’t even manage that,” Kane said.

God, he hoped she wasn’t pregnant. He used a fucking condom. But Rowan kept his face calm

regardless. “What do you want?”

Kane studied his nails, clean and manicured. Rowan’s own were blunt and lined with dirt. “I

think I should ask you the same question. Here to kill me again? It’s getting cliché. You should mix it
up a bit.”

Rowan took a deep breath. He’d had a month to come up with a reason not to kill Kane, but they

all sounded just as hollow as they had back then. This wasn’t going to work. Kane wouldn't buy it. An
assassin like him was – too smart – no matter how cocky.

The only thing he could use against the omega wasn’t a subject Rowan wanted to breech.
Ever.
Kane was an assassin – a man.
Not Rowan’s type.
Those lips curved into a knowing smile, and Rowan frowned at the surge that shot to his groin.

He needed to get laid but not by Kane.

“Maybe you’ll get more talkative if I booze you up. Let’s have a drink, Rowan,” Kane said.
Rowan didn’t move to start the car. “I’m not having a drink with you.”
“I’m not asking. You’ll do what I say or a group of angry Slovaks will show up and drag you

away. You won’t like what they have in store, and you’ll be awake for most of it. Do I make myself
clear?” Kane said, his voice honey sweet.

Goose bumps rose on the back of Rowan’s neck, and his fingers blanched on the steering wheel.

The alpha could rip Kane’s heart from his chest . . . or bend the little shit over and teach him a lesson.
But the wolf didn’t howl to be freed, like it usually did when someone gave Rowan an order. Instead,
the alpha bared his fangs and a rush of blood, hot and lusty, flowed straight to his cock.

Without a word, Rowan started the car and turned it around. He stopped at a random pub at the

edge of town. Dusk fell as they stepped inside, and fresh flakes of snow dusted Kane’s midnight hair.

The urge to brush it away rumbled in Rowan’s chest.
Kane held the door for Rowan, his eyes sparkling dangerously. Whatever Kane had in mind

wasn’t good, and Rowan couldn’t kill the assassin until he got the information. Another failed mission
wouldn’t look good.

Kane settled at a table in the corner and held up a hand for two drinks. A fire roared in the

hearth, but did little to add cheer to the dismal atmosphere. A few old men glanced at them, dark eyes
untrustworthy, like everyone else in this town. Even at the end of the day, this bar was nearly empty.

Rowan glanced over the walls, keeping his expression neutral. Several crossbows and spears

graced them. Just his luck to end up in a hunter bar. Then again, in these parts, most bars were
probably populated with hunters.

A middle-aged waitress brought them drinks, cheap borovicka.
Kane fingered the rim of his glass with a pleasant smile on his lips.
The fire in Rowan’s gut raged, and he glowered at the man across from him. In over a day, the

full moon would rise and they’d both be forced to change. Kane was the type of man who embraced
the beast inside him – reveled in its power and mystery.

If Kane hadn’t killed Brooks. Hadn’t jumped into the Vltava, none of this would be happening.

For years Rowan did his job without a problem – shifted at the full moon and that was it. Drinking and

women were part of the territory; they kept the alpha in check.

Now Kane and this mission had to fuck with all of that.
Rowan took a deep breath and didn’t touch his drink. Might as well get right to the point. “Why

were you hanging around Banik’s stronghold?”

Kane took a sip. Color rose to his cheeks. “I work for him, at the moment.”
Rowan stared. He knew Elijah Kane was a heartless assassin, but this was too much. “You work

for him?” he snarled and stopped himself from grabbing the omega by his slender neck. Had he been
wrong that Banik was the target?

“For now,” Kane said and leaned forward. His eyes shone. “I’m going to kill him.”
Rowan’s muscles eased. He said nothing.
“And you’re not going to try and stop me, are you?” Kane asked, raising his eyebrows. “I hope

the CIA doesn’t want a bastard like that alive. Or are they going to install you as the new warlord in
order to get close to the Butcher?”

It didn’t sound that off base, and Rowan blanched at the thought. Colonel Greer never said a

damn thing about the massively powerful warlord who ran half of Eastern Europe. But this was it – an
in. A way Rowan could get Kane on his side. It was a long shot, but it might work. “No. Banik
deserves it. I’ll wait until you finish.”

Kane let out a bark of laughter. “Because you were so good at stopping me in the past. What are

we? Two for zero?”

Rowan grimaced. The dim electric lights flicked above their heads. “One for one. I did shoot

you.”

“Right. I didn’t forget, but I broke that bitch’s arms. And I killed your partner. Oh, and I have

something in mind for you. You know, to keep you out of the way until I’m finished here. Should be
fun,” Kane said and finished his drink in one gulp, making a face. “I prefer a good red wine to this
shit, but what are you going to do?”

Kane’s words hung between them, and Rowan stared at the assassin’s pretty face, trying to see

the monster beneath. He just saw fine features and startling eyes. Eyes that saw things he wished they
didn’t.

His back prickled again, right between his shoulder blades. “I’m not going to get in your way,”

he growled, fighting the urge to look behind him. If someone approached, he’d hear it.

Kane crossed his legs elegantly. “And you think I’m going to believe anything you say? Even if

you’re telling me the truth, I can’t trust a CIA agent sent to kill me. See my predicament?”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Rowan said, and almost choked as the words left his lips. Not

because it was a lie, but because his heart slammed in his chest and the burning in his gut eased
without sex or violence. That never happened. The only way to soothe the alpha was through
something extreme. But Kane’s simple presence did it now.

The assassin stared at him. Kane’s mask slipped to reveal a question he didn’t ask. Then his eyes

hardened into steel, and he grinned. “I applaud you for not saying something like ‘if I wanted to kill
you, you’d be dead already.’ But I can’t take any chances. Sorry, Rowan. I’ll be sure to get you out
before I leave town – if you’re still alive. If not, it’s been fun.”

Heart pounding, Rowan stood and his chair toppled over. “You think you can take me down,

omega?” he grumbled. Some strange part of him wanted Kane to believe him no matter how crazy that
sounded. It would make his job a hell of a lot easier – then he could get away from this wolf and never
look back.

“Maybe not. But it’s not me you have to worry about,” Kane said and leaned back in his chair.

Then he opened his mouth and shouted. “Vlk!”

Rowan froze. He didn’t speak Slovak, but he knew what that meant.

Wolf.
How could he be so stupid?
The old men stood, and the waitress pulled a crossbow from behind the bar, balancing the damn

thing on her hip.

Rowan lunged at Kane.
Mission be damned. This asshole was trying to get him killed.
Shouts sounded around him.
Vlk. Vlk!
He was half surprised they didn’t ring the church bell to announce it to the whole town.
The door slammed open, but Rowan couldn’t keep his eyes off the assassin. What was he

expecting? He told Greer this plan would get him killed!

Kane stepped back neatly, slipping into the bar’s shadows as two sets of burly hands grasped

Rowan’s shoulders from behind. Where the hell had they come from?

“He’s a vlk!” Rowan cried and pointed at Kane, those pale eyes glowed in the dim light.
The men holding Rowan didn’t seem to care. Why should they? This was all part of Kane’s plan

to trap him, and he walked right into it! That damn feeling in his chest tugged him toward the assassin
like the pull of a river. He couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

Yue betrayed him again.
With all his strength, Rowan bent forward to loosen the men’s grasp, and then he popped up,

throwing them off.

A cross bolt whizzed past his head, lodging in the wall several inches deep. It smelled of silver

and the sharp sting of wolf’s bane. Fuck! If that hit him, it’d slow him down. And it’d kill him if it
struck his heart.

Rowan ran. He charged for the door at full speed, shoving one of the old men out of the way. He

slid onto the slick cobblestones and pulled out his gun, ready to shoot anyone who dared stop him.
Training and experience taught him everything – Rowan knew how to survive in almost any situation,
but not like this.

Not hunters.
Not again!
He hunched his shoulders, ready to burst into his wolf shape. The alpha could rip the flesh from

their bones. Tear out a human heart before a man could scream. If they wanted to take him down, they
could fight his most powerful form. Then he’d kill them all!

No. He wasn’t thinking clearly.
Rowan took a deep breath through his nose, stepping purposefully down the street. The beast

bristled, aching to get free. But if he let it out, he’d never get away. He’d end up like his family, and
that wasn’t going to happen.

Not today.
Silver and humans clattered out of the bar behind him. A big black SUV rumbled down the

street. Much too nice for the locals – it must belong to Banik’s goons.

Feet slipped behind him, the steady step of someone with too much confidence. Then the sharp

scent of Kane overpowered him. A hand slipped over Rowan’s arm from the left, gentle and calming.

How could something calm him at a time like this?
“Sleep, my prince,” Kane whispered as the needle slid into Rowan’s neck. It pinched and he

yanked away, eyes wide.

“You son of a bitch. I’ll kill you,” Rowan growled – or tried to. The words felt like molasses on

his tongue, thick and slurry.

He took a step forward and slipped on the ice, tumbling to the ground. His cheek pressed into the

snow as a strange darkness settled over him. In the distance, he felt hands grabbing his limbs. Men
shouted in a language his brain couldn’t comprehend.

“I said not to hurt him yet. Not until the full moon,” Kane said, his voice clipped. It’s the last

thing Rowan heard before he faded away.

* * *

Rowan’s head pounded – a steady throb that beat alongside his heart. Or maybe it was that

second heart. He’d cut it out when he got the chance. If he got the chance.

Whatever Kane gave him only knocked him out. For a brief, terrible moment, he thought the

asshole pumped him full of heroin. Trying to fight off an addiction wasn’t something he needed while
hunting an assassin. At least Kane wasn’t that depraved, not that it made Rowan feel better.

He didn’t open his eyes, not yet. Instead, he let his other senses take in the surroundings. His

skin prickled with goose bumps, the air cold and moist. It smelled damp. Foul. A mixture of mildew
and old blood.

A basement.
A castle basement, one used to torture people who got in the warlord’s way.
Rowan held back a groan.
Heavy chains bound his wrists, ankles and waist. He sagged against the wall, and they bit into

his skin and rubbed it raw. Not silver but iron. The scent of rust hung in the air, mixing with other
unpleasant odors.

How long was he out?
Slowly, Rowan blinked.
A light hung from the ceiling. The fluorescent buzz flickered every few seconds. Like most of

the town, the electricity was spotty. Not unusual for someplace that remote or a castle that old. The
ancient gray stone wept, soaking into his jacket and pants. At least they kept him clothed. Being nude
in that weather wouldn’t do him any good, wolf or not.

He strained, listening for the sound of a guard.
Footsteps on stone.
Nothing.
The floor above him was too thick to hear through. Funny how something so old could keep his

senses at bay. Then again, it may have been built to do just that.

Rowan glanced around the dungeon. Two other sets of chains hung from the wall, empty at the

moment. The room could hold three prisoners, but he was the only one there. The only exit was a
rusted iron door, maybe original. The hinges would be easy enough to break if he could get away from
the wall.

At least it wasn’t like the hunters who went after his family. Whoever these people were, they

wanted to make sure he turned into a wolf before they did anything else to him.

Correction: Kane wanted them to make sure. Without the assassin’s intervention, he might

already be dead. That thought was cold comfort, considering Kane was the reason Rowan was in this
mess.

Rowan took a deep breath, pushing away the last of the cloud from his mind.
How many other wolves suffered down here before they were finally killed? He read the history

of Liptovsky Hradok a few days before he arrived. At around eight hundred years old, that dungeon
had survived the European Shifter Wars – the time when Old One territory and human territory wasn’t
so easily divided. Unlike their Native American counterparts, who accepted shifters as a part of
nature, Europeans sought to hunt them down and kill them.

Shifters were burned at the stake. They were held in chambers such as these and tortured for the

location of their pack or to identify other shifters.

They all died, like Rowan’s family, and his chest burned to think of it.
Not the inhumanity, but the weakness of those wolves involved.
Men didn’t understand them, but the shifters shouldn’t have flaunted their power to begin with.

It was wolves like Kane that started that ball rolling. Shifters who couldn’t help but taunt humans with
their increased strength and skill.

Kane did it in his work, and now he was playing a dangerous game with Rowan’s life.
His vision blurred red, and he yanked at the chains. They clanked and rattled, but the old iron

didn’t give way.

Rowan turned his head. The chains were old, but the bolts were new. Whoever installed them

didn’t bother to drill new holes; they used the old ones. Which meant they’d be easier to pull loose.

He yanked again.
Clatter.
Clank.
It echoed throughout the dungeon, probably up the winding stairs and all the way into the keep.

He needed to hurry before someone realized what he was doing.

Clatter.
Clank.
Rowan kept at it for over an hour, but no one ran down to stop him. Instead, he leaned against

the cold stone; sweat streaking his brow and his chest heaving. All the muscles in his body burned and
ached from the effort, and he barely managed to move the bolts a fourth of an inch. Maybe it wouldn’t
be as easy to break free as he thought.

Even in the damp room, his mouth was as dry as the Sahara, and he licked parched lips and

frowned. He couldn’t keep it up without food or water, and they weren’t going to give him either. No
point if he was set to die.

Then a soft light caught his eye. Rowan turned.
A little window sat high in the corner, only a hand span tall and lined with bars. Too small to use

for escape. The sill was rimmed with snow and fresh cold air blew in – if air from the moat could be
considered fresh. Human filth and mud smelled worse than the dungeon as it was.

He couldn’t imagine the stench come summer.
At the moment, the snow stopped and the night cleared. That meant it’d be colder with no clouds

to trap what little heat there was. The light reflected cool and silver on his face. From that angle, he
caught a glimpse of the waxing moon.

In most situations, a wolf would beg Yue for help or guidance. Ask for her wisdom.
His chest turned to stone, the extra heart thumping next to his. Not only had she let his family

die needlessly, now she tied him to an assassin so he could rot at the hands of hunters.

Tomorrow she’d be full, and his body would twist and shift into his wolf shape. The shape he

had no control over. The shape that ripped flesh and did unspeakable things in the name of power. No
matter how many missions he took – how many women he fucked – the alpha inside raged out of
control. It moved just under the surface of his skin, begging to break free and run.

To howl.
To kill.
Was he any better than Kane? Not in that form he wasn’t. Though he’d never say that to the

assassin. The difference between them was Rowan kept it under wraps the rest of the time, while Kane
did the exact opposite.

Maybe it was best they locked him up for now, even if Rowan wanted to rip every bloodthirsty

hunter in the town limb from limb.

Originally, Rowan planned to run through the woods and hunt game on the full moon. It was the

best way to keep out of the village and away from innocent people. Now that plan was bust. And once
he turned, they’d lodge a silver bullet in his brain.

Then he remembered Kane’s threat and frowned.
No – they’d torture him for hours, maybe days, then kill him.
The second heart pounded in his chest, stronger than before. Its pace quickened, and Rowan

caught the gentle pat of shoes against the flagstones.

Kane.
Rowan glowered at the bars as that angelic face slipped around the corner.
Kane smiled and slid a comically large key into the door. It looked like something from a

cartoon. The iron squeaked. It sounded like a dying rat. He didn’t bother shutting it behind him, but he
hung the ring of keys on the wall before he stepped forward, flipping a bottle of water in his hands.

“I like you like this. All chained up and angry. Kind of a turn on,” he said.
He wore the same suit he had earlier. Some big shot designer by the cut and quality of the

material. The gray was light enough that he didn’t look as pale as he did in black, and the blue shirt
brought out his eyes – like he needed them to stand out.

Why the hell did Rowan even notice? He never noticed shit like that before. Not with anyone.
Kane frowned and kicked a loose pebble across the floor. It clattered against the wall. “Oh, are

we not on speaking terms anymore? I did this for your own good, you know. Banik needs to die, and I
need to kill him. Couldn’t have you messing that up.”

Ousting him as a wolf to a whole town of superstitious Slovaks for his own good? Did Kane

believe all the crazy he spouted?

“What do you want?” Rowan growled.
“Not much. I’m a simple man, really. Maybe a chateau in the south of France,” Kane said, his

shoes slapping against the floor. It echoed throughout the room. The sound was hollow. His lips turned
into the slightest of smiles, and Rowan’s breath hitched in his throat. It was the first honest smile he’d
seen on Kane’s face.

Still, he wasn’t about to respond with words. Instead, he rattled the chains and glowered.
“Oh, you meant what do I want from you. I get it,” Kane tapped his nose and the real smile slid

into one of his fucking smirks. “There’s something perplexing going on. I think you feel it too, don’t
you?”

With Kane that close, the dual heartbeats throbbed in his chest, pounding in his ears. Or maybe

that was the rush of blood to his head, heating his face and urging the wolf to wring Kane’s slender
neck – a neck as smooth as alabaster.

“I feel nothing,” Rowan grumbled, baring his fangs.
Kane raised his eyebrows and held the water to Rowan’s lips. “Scary, aren’t you? And a liar. I

expected more.”

He stopped just close enough that Rowan could make out the slight scar on Kane’s jaw – white

and about the length of a forefinger. Those gray blue eyes studied him, and he slowly ran the pink tip
of his tongue over his lips. His heat radiated into Rowan’s body. It warmed the chill soaking into his
flesh.

Rowan took a long gulp. The water did nothing to quell the fire in his belly. He frowned.
Then Kane reached forward and ran his slender fingers down Rowan’s jaw. He hadn’t shaved in

a day or two, and the rough red stubble covered his cheeks and neck. He stiffened under the touch. The
fingers sparked static through his veins, and he pulled his head back. It smacked into the wall and light
flashed before his eyes.

“Easy there. I’m not going to hurt you,” Kane said softly. His heart sped up, thumping like a

drum.

Rowan shook the pain from his skull and glared. “I’m going to kill you when I get free.”
“Do we really have to do this? You threaten to kill me and I say something clever that catches

you off guard. It’s getting old. Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

The moment when Rowan was helplessly chained to a wall. His face burned and he lunged

forward as far as the chains would allow – barely eight inches. Fuck!

Kane ignored the outburst and brushed his hand over Rowan’s chest. His muscles tensed under

the touch. Why wasn’t the assassin hurting him? Instead, Kane was caressing him the way a lover
would.

Oh, fuck no!
“I’d rather you hurt me,” Rowan grumbled.
“No, you wouldn’t. How’s the shoulder?” Kane asked and his fingers trailed toward the phantom

wound, mirroring his own.

Rowan tried not to flinch under the touch, but like the omega’s, it was still sore. Still fresh.

Silver had a way of sticking around when one wanted it gone. Kane’s touch was too light – too gentle.
A man like him shouldn’t be capable of that.

Then Kane leaned forward and took a deep breath. “Mm, I hear you when I sleep. You snore. It’s

light, hardly perceptible, but I can hear it. I’m surprised none of your conquests pointed it out before,”
he said, and there was an edge to his voice Rowan never noticed before.

Was that jealousy?
If so, he might have leverage over Kane. Given the circumstances, he needed all the leverage he

could get. “Maybe they don’t mind.”

The top button of his shirt popped open. Then the next. Kane’s fingers moved down them

slowly, expertly, revealing Rowan’s taut and powerful chest to the chilly room. A fire roared in
Rowan’s gut, chasing the cold from the room as well as a fire might.

“I’m sure they mind. Women are so picky about certain things,” he breathed. “But you don’t

stick around long enough to find out, do you?”

The truth stabbed Rowan in the chest. This damn assassin read him perfectly.
Suddenly, Kane’s breath blew across Rowan’s neck. The heat of those lips brushed the skin,

branding it. “You know why you leave?” Kane asked.

“My job,” Rowan growled, and he leaned as far back into the wall as possible. He was not going

to give in like this. Not when Kane had him chained to a wall. Not when Kane was the last person
Rowan wanted in the entire world.

That cocky smile slipped over Kane’s lips, and he pressed the length of his body against

Rowan’s. His hip pressed into Rowan’s groin, and the alpha responded, throbbing and raging like he
always did when he needed release.

“No. You leave because they aren’t what you’re looking for, and you know it deep down.”
The alpha stirred in his gut, and Rowan fought to think of anything else – Kane killing Brooks

and breaking that woman’s arms. Agent Thompson and her brownnosing. Nothing dissuaded the jolt
that shot to his cock – the throbbing need growing with each of Kane’s words.

“What do you think I’m looking for?” Rowan asked, his voice raspy and thick with something he

couldn’t explain. Hatred. He hated Kane – that was it.

A hand cupped his pounding cock, rubbing it reverently.
Rowan fought the moan threatening his throat and turned it into a growl.
“Me. And you know it. Yue, that lovely goddess of ours, is trying to tell us something,” he

whispered, breath tickling Rowan’s ear.

Rowan shook the chains on his wrist and waist, pulling his head forward as hard as he could. No

way in hell he was going to do what Yue wanted. Not when she had some crazy ideas about how his
life should turn out.

The chain on his neck held him firm, and the look in Kane’s eyes clouded. A peculiar expression

flashed across his face – almost too quickly for Rowan to notice. “Oh? Still don’t think you’re gay?
Did it ever feel this good with a lady friend?” Kane asked as his fingers slipped down Rowan’s zipper.

Rowan’s heart pounded – or maybe that was Kane’s heart. They beat together in his chest and

brain. The throbbing in his cock, aching for release, didn’t help clear his mind. It fogged with the
alpha’s desire inside him – the desire he didn’t want.

“I’ll kill you,” he growled again.
Kane ignored him, and Rowan’s thick length popped free. The head glistened with pre-come,

slick and ready. His blood boiled in his veins.

“Lucky you, gay guys are so much better at giving head. We know what it feels like and what to

do,” Kane sing-songed as his fingers brushed the oversensitive flesh.

Rowan’s hips bucked involuntarily, and he cursed the moon for the hundredth time. The Colonel

wanted him to pretend to get close to Kane, not to actually fuck around with him.

But he was chained to a wall with nowhere to go. No escape from those eyes or that alluring

mouth.

Fuck!
The alpha didn’t even jump out to help. To shift. It bubbled deep inside, urging his body to give

in – give up. What the hell kind of wolf was he?

“Tell me you want me to suck you dry, Rowan,” Kane said, flicking his tongue over his lips

hungrily.

Rowan did not want to know what Kane’s luscious mouth tasted like – or what it felt like

wrapped around his cock. “Fuck off!”

That strange expression flashed across Kane’s face again, and for a moment Rowan thought it

was hurt. How was that possible? His refusal hurt the assassin’s precious feelings?

Then lips burned his chest, and Kane’s soft black hair tickled his flesh. Every touch lit a new fire

– a fire he rushed to stamp out. But those slender fingers wound over his skin, and that mouth inched
toward his hardened nipples. The tongue flicked out to taste him, and Rowan hissed as it made contact.

He should hate it – hate the sensation as much as he hated the man doing it to him. But the alpha

clawed and howled, begging Rowan to give in to the pleasure crawling over his skin.

The wolf betrayed him. That’s why his animal side needed to be kept in check – hidden away.
It wasn’t really him.
Kane sucked the nub of flesh, eliciting another croak of pleasure from Rowan. Shit. The fucking

alpha was making noises for him now. The desperation behind that moan sounded nothing like his
normal voice.

Nothing at all.
Lips smiled against his stomach, moving lower.
Rowan fought to ignore the omega raking the coals of his desire into a raging inferno. He

pressed himself into the cold wall, but it only served to remind him how hot he was – how feverish.
The icy flagstones chilled his flesh, peppering it with eager goose bumps, and allowing his knees to
sag and buckle.

Dammit.
No escape.
That pink tongue darted out again and trailed over Rowan’s taut stomach, the defined muscles

and his heaving navel. Kane was too close now, and no matter what Rowan did, he couldn’t deny the

inevitable.

His cock pounded for it. Throbbed and beat, aching for a touch to ease the pressure building in

his balls. No matter how Rowan tried to shove it away, the alpha’s need rose into his chest, choking
him with desire.

Slowly, he looked down at the assassin on his knees. The way his dark hair fell into his eyes, and

how his ears poked out at just the right angle. Kane’s capable hands gripped his hips, and he breathed
on the urgent shaft, the lips hovering just in front of it.

Rowan held his breath, tried to keep as still as possible. Steeled himself for the coming

sensation.

The chains rattled.
Kane turned up and looked at him. Those blue gray eyes as hard and sharp as a sword. Not the

eyes of a downtrodden omega – the eyes of a wolf with something to prove. “Beg me,” he breathed.

The words almost tumbled from Rowan’s lips. Please, suck me off. Subdue the wolf for another

day. Let me feel you around me.

Rowan clamped his mouth shut – either as a test of his own will or a test of Kane’s resolve. He

wasn’t sure. Hell, maybe he was just that fucking stubborn.

Kane’s fingers dug into the bare flesh where his hips met his pants, and the omega leaned in.

The set determination on his face held none of that earlier mirth. Brows furrowed, lips set and grim.
Why was he doing it if he didn’t enjoy it? Maybe a way to get back at Rowan. Prove something.

Prove their connection.
Prove Rowan was gay.
Then that mouth slid over the tip and the world blurred.
Rowan’s knees buckled. The chains clanked. The groan that clogged his throat, low and breathy,

sounded too much like his own voice for comfort. He wasn’t supposed to like this. A man sucking him
off might please the alpha, but it shouldn’t please him.

Only it did, and with a swift sweep of Kane’s tongue, he could no longer deny it.
Heat surrounded him. Blinded him. The shivers of pleasure snaked up his stomach and down his

thighs. Rowan’s heart slammed alongside Kane’s, and he felt, not only his own confused desire, but
another burning passion next to it. Or inside it – one that raged with deep seeded anger and more than
a little hurt.

Was that Kane?
Himself?
In that moment, Rowan could hardly differentiate between them anymore.
Lips and tongue assaulted him. Kane’s mouth worked wonders he’d never imagined. Fuck.

Better than any of the women he’d been with. He never lost his very being in one of his other
conquests, but this was different.

The alpha moaned again, the sticky sweetness of pleasure thickening his blood to honey.
Every breath came out as a labored pant.
Every touch fanned the flames on his flesh.
If the chains didn’t hold him in place, he might tangle his fingers in Kane’s hair. Let it slip over

them like silk. He balled his hands into fists at that thought. No way in hell he really wanted to do that.
It was the wolf talking.

Not him. Not the real him.
Another sweep of tongue over the tip. The tightening of lips, the urgent sound of Kane on his

knees – heavy breathing through his nose and the way those nails bit into Rowan’s flesh, just shy of
painful.

Rowan wished it hurt enough to distract him from the pleasure.

They didn’t. Or maybe that wouldn’t work.
That mouth squeezed him – the heat surrounded him. Easing the alpha like nothing had before.

Every new touch drowned him. It stabbed him in the heart and twisted his gut into a confusing knot.

As the pleasure built, his hips bucked involuntarily. His chest heaved, and his milky load spilled.

Light and golden, it danced across his nerves like the faintest kiss and left him shaking and weak,
unable to stand.

Warmth filled his throat and belly – the same warmth he just expelled, and a strange jolt lodged

into his chest then. A need for something he’d never desired before – a deep rooted pain that nestled
next to his own and spread roots around his heart.

Rowan blinked, panted, and licked his lips.
Kane sat back and wiped his mouth. The smile no longer graced it, and he looked more human

than he ever had.

Vulnerable.
Sad.
Most definitely young – younger than his twenty-nine years, at least.
“I knew you’d enjoy it,” he said as he tucked Rowan’s spent need away and zipped up the pants.
Lips pursed, Rowan said nothing. He stared at Kane as the assassin buttoned the shirt and backed

up. “It goes both ways. You feel me, but I can feel you too. I can feel everything,” Rowan said, glaring
at the only man who ever made him lose control.

The only one to draw out the alpha in that way.
To collar it.
Something flashed in Kane’s eyes, and he plastered a mocking grin on his face. “You think I

care what you can feel inside me? You should be more concerned about how you feel around me,
alpha.”

Then he swept from the room. The door clanked shut behind him, leaving Rowan with more

questions and doubt than ever before.

Chapter Six

Elijah’s cheeks burned as he ran up the dungeon’s steps. His throat constricted, and his heart

pounded. That sharp stab worsened as he considered Rowan’s words.

They didn’t mean anything. Rowan felt Elijah like Elijah felt him. They really were connected

by that strange magic – the thread that bound them together. The nagging in the back of his mind
tripped him up.

What exactly did Rowan feel?
The past?
That unrelenting fear and pain?
The guilt?
The burden of loneliness that surrounded him ever since he parted ways with Simeon?
Elijah shook his head, smoothed his hands over his suit and took a deep breath. His groin raged

for action just a few minutes before, but Rowan’s words chased that desire away. Too bad he’d have to
beat one off later. He’d rather the alpha do the honors.

At the moment, he didn’t have the luxury.
And it’s not like he could take one of the hunters into a room and give the lug orders. Little

Slovakian towns weren’t really gay friendly.

Plus, he had a warlord to assassinate.
Getting into Boleslav Banik’s service wasn’t difficult. In fact, for a paranoid warlord in control

of a whole town, it was surprisingly easy. Then, anything that involved money and power was usually
easy for Elijah. Flash some bills and talk about a business arrangement, and Banik was all ears. Very
interested ears.

It helped that Elijah pointed out the possibility of a lone wolf in the vicinity. Boleslav Banik was

nothing if not paranoid and superstitious, the perfect combination. When Rowan showed up, alone and
sulking in that car, what else was Elijah supposed to do but use that moment to his benefit? It got
Rowan out of his way, and it allowed Banik to see how loyal he was.

Never mind Elijah was going to kill the bastard the following night, and release Rowan once he

stewed in the dungeon for a day. This wasn’t going to end like it did with Maxim.

Banik didn’t know that, and he never would. When Elijah was through with him, the man would

be nothing more than a smear of guts and blood on his castle floor.

One of the guards glanced at Elijah as he emerged from the dungeon. “No one is to go down

there until tomorrow. I’ve finished with one session. He needs to rest for now, or it’ll kill him too
quickly,” he said.

The guard frowned but nodded nonetheless. They probably didn’t like taking orders from

someone so small, but Elijah wasn’t going to give them a choice. He’d break bones if they pushed
him. That usually got someone’s attention.

“The King wants to see you,” the guard said and eyed the door.
The Butcher probably didn’t know one of his underlings called himself king.
King Boleslav Banik – the man had an ego the size of Russia, Elijah thought. And his whole

kingdom was about to fall apart around him.

At least the throne room didn’t have an actual throne in it any longer. Elijah stepped into the hall

and noted the number of guards around Banik – the usual six. A few half naked girls shivered on
pillows strewn about the floor, breasts bare and tract marks showing on their arms and legs. Their

hollow eyes watched him walk by, and Elijah’s gut twisted.

There was nothing he could do for them – nothing at all. But at least killing Banik might allow a

few of them to escape. He was an assassin, not some kind of savior.

“You called?” he said and gave a short bow to the man.
Banik was middle aged with a slight gut that attested to good food and too much alcohol. His

suit, a rip-off with a designer label, strained around his middle. If Elijah were Banik, he’d get a
personal tailor so he didn’t look so unkempt. Hair of an indeterminate color graced his temples and
combed over the middle bald patch. Banik’s face held the shadow of a formerly handsome man. His
lifestyle chased anything attractive away, however.

It was all Elijah could do to smile pleasantly and not rip the man’s head from his neck at that

very moment.

“The wolf in the dungeon, he’s contained?” Banik asked, his fingers twitching nervously. A line

of white powder stained his lips and nose, and he hastily brushed it away.

“Yes – but he won’t turn into a wolf until the full moon tomorrow night,” Elijah said.
The pull to change tugged on his flesh and bones. The omega sat in the shadows, waiting, his

eyes bright and watchful. His predatory instincts prickled the back of his neck, shouting danger at the
number of men in the room.

Banik nodded and grinned, showing yellow teeth. “Good. We’ll have a show when we kill him.

Make a cape from his hide,” the man said, eyes wide and hungry.

Elijah’s stomach turned at the thought of Rowan bleeding and stripped of his fur. It was

probably the same rusty auburn as his hair. Rough and thick, and it’d smell like him. The heavy musk
of an alpha with the distinct hint that was Rowan. It reminded him, however vaguely, of Maxim, and
his gut clenched.

He wouldn’t leave Rowan alone like that, even if the alpha hated him.
“Of course. It’s your wolf, King Banik.”
The warlord smiled. “Will you take a woman to bed tonight?” Banik asked and pointed at the

girls.

The ones lucid enough to pay attention sat upright, trying to look sexy.
The only person Elijah wanted was locked beneath their feet, burning to wring his neck. “Not

tonight,” he said and gave Banik an apologetic smile. “I’m too tired. Torture wears me out.”

The guards grumbled something rude.
Good thing Elijah was finishing this the following night. He might not be able to keep up the

pretense much longer.

Banik dismissed him then and he left the hall, hackles rising as he walked away.
Elijah tried to tell himself this is what he trained for. Sneaking and killing. Gaining trust so he

could snatch it away. He’d done it often enough in the past. It never bothered him if the assholes
deserved it, and they did.

Hell, he might be a better spy than Rowan Gregor, he thought. That didn't mean he could sleep

easy. Not until the job was done, and his jobs were never done until his mark was dead and he was
long gone.

When he got to his room, decorated in a mishmash of French provincial and Russian aristocrat,

he shoved the heavy chair against the door after locking it. He slept with the gun in his hand, his
nerves bristling for a secret attack.

One more day, and he’d be that much richer.
Banik would be dead, and Rowan would be trying to kill him again.
Life as usual.

* * *

Pain woke him.
A sharp agony twisted over his flesh and a cry rose from his lips. Elijah curled into a ball,

gasping. His heart raced, and Rowan’s heart slammed alongside it.

What the hell was happening to him?
Right. The connection.
Rowan!
He rolled out of bed with a painful thud and whimpered. Climbing to his knees, a wave of nausea

rose in his gut. His stomach clamped, and he coughed, dry heaving until the sensation passed.

Wolf’s bane. That had to be it.
Shit!
Slowly, Elijah breathed through his nose and sat upright, willing the pain away.
He told those bastards not to hurt Rowan, and they went behind his back. How could he be so

stupid? What did he expect from a paranoid warlord and a castle full of hunters? Obedience?

Elijah threw on his shirt and pants, grabbed his gun and slipped into the deserted hallway. He

didn’t bother with shoes. No point. He needed to get down there before they killed Rowan, or made it
impossible for the alpha to escape. If they injured him too badly even Elijah couldn’t drag Rowan out
on his own. He scowled at his own weakness and rounded a corner at the foot of the stairs.

A guard stood there.
“What’re they doing to the wolf?” Elijah demanded and wiped a line of sweat from his brow.
The guard gave him an idiot smile. “The King wanted to see him. Test him.”
Wonderful. It was even worse than Elijah initially anticipated. Banik was the one behind this,

not some stupid hunter. That meant he couldn’t wait until that night to kill the bastard. He’d have to
do it soon.

Another wave of pain rushed over him. A sharp throb pierced his left thigh. Elijah bit back a

scream.

He had to kill Banik now, in the middle of the morning, or the warlord would kill them both.
“You look sick,” the guard said.
Elijah smiled weakly. “Mind helping me back to my room? I think I ate something that didn’t

agree with me.”

The guard shrugged and stepped forward, leaning down so Elijah could drape an arm over his

shoulder. The omega grabbed the man’s neck and snapped it instead. It didn’t solve the problem at
hand, but the crack of human bone gave him purpose. And it gave him one less guard to fight on the
way out.

The pain in his leg twisted, and he bit his bottom lip and leaned against the wall. He had one gun

– the rest of his stuff was hidden in the car, besides the spare suit he brought inside. And he couldn’t
go back to his room for that. He might not make it back downstairs at this rate.

A fire burned across the nerves in his leg, and he limped toward the dungeon’s entrance. No

guards blocked the way, thankfully, and Elijah eased down each step, careful to keep his balance and
waiting for the next wave of torture to hit. Whatever was in Rowan’s leg twisted. A grunt traveled up
the ancient stairwell, followed by a whimper.

The sharp scent of silver and blood stung Elijah’s nose, and he gritted his teeth and moved

faster. Shifting would give him more power, but in the cramped cell he’d be at a disadvantage. He’d
keep the man shape for now and worry about turning later, when he had more room to jump and bite.

The voices of a few hunters rang off the walls.
Banik mumbled in Slovak, something about wolf’s bane, as Elijah emerged around the corner.

His hands shook as he pulled out his gun and crept forward. With socked feet he was able to

sneak so quietly no one would know he was there – no one but Rowan.

Hopefully, the alpha wouldn’t give him away.
Two guards stood outside of the cell. They didn’t notice Elijah at all. He shot them from the

shadows, the silencer quieting the brunt of the noise. The men tumbled to the ground, blocking the
entrance to the cell.

Fuck. He hadn’t counted on that.
Slowly, he shut the door at the base of the stairway – a heavy ancient thing on rusted hinges. At

least it would hold off an assault for a few minutes. He slid the great iron bar in place and took a
breath.

If he had more time, he’d have thought this through. At the moment, Elijah couldn't think

straight. His body trembled, every nerve singing for a release from the pain.

The remaining guards lined up around Banik into a tight wall. Behind them, the warlord

mumbled about assassins and wolves. How he knew something was wrong with Kane when they first
met.

Elijah smiled grimly and ducked out of the way as they opened fire. Their bullets lodged into the

wall in front of them, effectively blocking off the entrance. But the door was old and narrow. Only one
guard could exit at a time, and they’d run out of ammo soon enough. Then they’d have to come at him
hand to hand.

Like usual, the odds were in his favor.
Then footsteps pattered down the steps.
Shit!
Reinforcements!
The pain addled his brain, and he forgot about the legion of hunters skulking above. They’d be

trapped for good if he waited much longer.

Elijah took a deep breath through his nose, and ducked low around the corner, crouching. He

shot two guards before a bullet grazed him, right on the neck. The pain blurred his vision, the scent of
singed flesh striking his nose.

He lunged forward and toppled into the man who shot him. The force threw them both back,

catching the brute off balance. He rolled and tried to stand, but Elijah punched the man in the
windpipe.

The guard grasped his throat, kicking and wheezing. He’d be dead in a few minutes.
Now Banik was the only one left. The warlord backed into the corner, a knife held at the ready.

A smear of white graced his nose again – his eyes wide and wild. Who knew what kind of drugs
pumped through his system?

“Kane?” Rowan breathed.
Elijah swallowed, staring at the warlord. If he looked at Rowan he might not be able to look

away.

How had his plan gone so badly awry in such a short amount of time? It was supposed to rattle

Rowan’s sensibilities, not get them both killed.

“You’re an assassin. You’re here to kill me!” Banik cried. His hands shook.
“And you’re not as dumb as you look,” Elijah growled. He wanted to shift and rip out the

bastard’s throat. Feel the hot blood soak his fur and claws after what Banik did to Rowan – what he did
to everyone he touched.

The old rage boiled in his veins. The need to destroy men like Banik. Wolves like his father.

Cruel, heartless men who hurt others for their own amusement. Men who left hollow eyed children in
their wake.

The alpha who left Simeon as a shell and tore Elijah’s heart from his body.
The omega howled, begging to be released. It gnawed and whined, clawing at his insides.

Elijah’s chest heaved, heart slamming. He bent forward, fangs extending, nails sharpening.

“Kane,” Rowan said again. The chains that held him rattled.
The sound cleared Elijah’s head.
Right. If he shifted, he wouldn’t be able to get Rowan free. Too bad. He had such high hopes for

Banik’s death. So many surprises in store for the bastard.

Raising his gun, Elijah shot Banik in the head. The blood splattered on the wall, brains and bits

of skull stuck there like some macabre painting. That asshole deserved much worse.

Something thudded against the door at the bottom of the stairs. Men shouted from the other side

of it.

They didn’t have much time.
Elijah turned to Rowan and a breath caught in his throat. A silver knife protruded from the

man’s meaty thigh, the serrated edge twisted so the wound gaped open. His chin and lips were burned
red from the wolf’s bane, and his chest was covered in blisters and a rash from the stuff. No wonder
Elijah burned and itched with it too.

It would heal.
Rowan’s black eyes met his, weary and pleading. “You going to leave me here?” he asked.
Elijah grabbed the ring of keys from the wall and fumbled with the chains. His hands trembled

as he turned the key, half expecting Rowan to kill him as soon as he was free. But the man wasn’t in
any condition to fight.

He slid to the floor and stared at the knife in his leg.
“This is going to hurt,” Elijah said and pulled it out. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Rowan

or himself.

The pain shot through his thigh and down to his toes. The thick silver handle singed his hand,

and he let it drop to the dungeon floor with a clank.

“Way out?” Rowan breathed, hunched but standing. He grabbed a gun from one of the fallen

guards and checked the clip.

Elijah pointed at the door. The main exit wouldn’t work. They’d have to try the back way –

fewer guards, hopefully. He didn’t think many of the hunters knew about the other exit.

“This way,” Elijah said and stepped around the corner. The hot blood on his neck seeped into his

suit, sticky and thick.

Men in the stairwell beat against the locked door. The hinges moaned with each push. They’d

give soon enough, and the hunters would find their boss and friends. Then all hell would break loose.

Elijah led Rowan deeper into the dungeons and they ducked behind a set of crates and into a

smaller tunnel.

“Where does it lead?” Rowan panted behind him.
Elijah knew the feeling. He wanted nothing more but to collapse onto the ground and sleep it off.

Too bad they couldn’t do that.

The shadows engulfed them, and Elijah stepped carefully over the old flagstones. “A storehouse

in the courtyard next to the wall. We’ll have to climb it.”

He didn’t mention it was on the other side of the castle than his car. Or that they wouldn’t be

able to circle around in the daylight. Which meant he’d have to leave it there.

The tunnel curved, and Elijah squinted into it. Good thing wolves could see in near darkness or

they’d have to crawl along the floor.

In the distance, he heard the door at the base of the stairwell splinter and break. Shouts rang

behind them, echoing down the tunnel.

Elijah broke into an uneven run. If the guards figured out where they escaped, they’d try to cut

them off.

They turned a final corner and saw the pale outline of a door. He tripped up the stairs, Rowan’s

heart pounding behind him. The iron handle chilled his palm, but it wasn’t locked. At least one thing
went his way.

Elijah eased it open and stepped into a room with ruined stone walls and a missing roof. The

snow soaked through his socks, and he bit back the urge to yelp. This side of the castle was in worse
disrepair than the other, and Banik hadn’t bothered to fix any of it.

The castle’s outer wall towered over the storehouse, the crumbling state of the great stones

visible through the roof. Elijah was about to say something about it when a familiar sensation pressed
into his back – the thick muzzle of a gun.

Maybe he shouldn’t have let Rowan arm himself.
“You going to kill me?” Elijah asked and held totally still. “I’m tired of getting shot.”
The muzzle trembled against Elijah’s back.
In the cold air, his breath blew out clouds of mist. Elijah sighed. They really didn’t have time for

this! “Well, make up your mind before someone else beats you to it.”

The gun nudged him forward, and a large hand forced him onto his knees. The icy ground bit

through his pants. Blood from his neck dripped onto the snow.

“Beg me not to kill you,” Rowan growled.
That familiar pain blossomed in Elijah’s heart. A burst of harsh laughter rose to his throat. He

laughed so hard tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

They couldn’t even escape without trying to kill each other, yet the moon thought they were

connected in the deepest possible way.

“Oh, this is about last night? Well, I’m not going to beg for an alpha. Just like you didn’t beg.

You’ll have to kill me, Rowan. Do it! Kill your own mate!” Elijah cried and turned to the alpha
looming over him.

Across the courtyard, he heard guards crunch through the snow toward them.
Rowan’s handsome face contorted into fury, though his black eyes screamed something else.

Some deep seeded pain that lodged itself beside Elijah’s own. Hands shaking, Rowan slowly lowered
the gun. It fell with a quiet thud into the snow at his feet.

Elijah stared. He did not expect that.
Rowan Gregor didn’t kill him.
Didn’t deny they were mates.
A shout in Russian shook him to his senses. No time to think about it now.
“The wall,” Elijah said and moved toward it.
It loomed over them, great gray stone, but the handholds were well spaced and the surface

uneven. It’d be easy enough to climb as a human – easier as a wolf.

“We have to shift,” Elijah said and bent forward. His body twisted – bones breaking. Fur

sprouting from his smooth skin as his clothes ripped to rags. The rush of power – completeness –
filled him. Even the dull ache and sting of wolf’s bane and silver didn’t feel as painful in this form. It
nudged him forward and reminded him he was still alive.

Still able to move forward.
Rowan stared at Elijah, a frown on his lips.
Why the hell wasn’t the man shifting? They couldn’t climb the wall fast enough as humans!
Then a bullet struck the storehouse – a silver bullet – and Elijah nudged Rowan with his head.
Jaw set, Rowan shifted. His eyes widened into great black pits, and his fangs grew to sharp

points. His dirty clothes fell away under his hulking form. Auburn fur covered him, thick and warm,

and he turned his snout into the air and howled.

He was the largest alpha Elijah had ever seen.
The cry begged Elijah to answer with his own, but he bit it back and ran to the wall. They didn’t

have time to howl at each other. He took a great leap and scampered up the uneven side, paws finding
purchase easily. He heard Rowan behind him, and let the sensation of freedom flow over him.

His lungs burned in the cold air. Every muscle ached. But they were almost at the top – almost

there! Hopefully, they could jump over the moat from that height. Going for a swim in that stinking,
frozen water wasn’t his idea of a good time.

As Elijah pressed his snout over the top of the wall, a sharp pain struck him in the back.
His legs stopped moving, and the sky fell away.
No – he fell.
The snow pillowed into great clouds around him, and he whimpered and tried to catch his breath.

He fought to stand, but his legs wouldn’t do what he wanted.

Rowan howled again, and Elijah rolled to his side.
He fully expected the hunters to shoot him dead then and there.
So many humans stood over him with so many damn guns.
He wasn’t supposed to die like this, but what other future did an assassin have?
Suddenly, a blur of auburn fur moved from the sky. Men screamed and guns blasted through the

air, leaving the sharp tang of gun powder hanging there.

Blood bloomed on the pristine snow, like pretty red flowers.
Elijah blinked, but his vision turned hazy – the world fading from view.
Snow fell into Rowan’s fur.
So much pain filled his heart at that moment. So much rage.
Then shadows engulfed him.

Chapter Seven

Kane fell off the wall so quickly Rowan didn’t even recognize the pain until the omega landed in

the snow. Then the sharp sting of a silver bullet ripped through him – turning his legs to noodles and
knocking the breath from his lungs.

The hunters crept forward, guns at the ready, their eyes wide as they stared at the little black

wolf. Well, Kane was little by wolf standards, maybe not by human standards.

Rowan could run away and let them gun Kane down – let those men kill the assassin and be done

with him forever. Greer couldn’t blame him for that if Rowan didn’t pull the trigger.

But the moment in the dungeon flashed before him. The hurt in Kane’s eyes – the look he got

right before he killed Banik – crazed and trembling.

Kane saved him.
Then another sensation filled him. The alpha caught the scent of wolf blood on the air and urged

him forward.

This was just like last time.
Just like those hunters!
He moved without another thought. Claws and teeth found their marks. Throats ripped. Guts

spilled. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, but nothing eased the fury roaring in his stomach
like a fire in a great hearth. Every swipe of his paws fueled the burning rage.

Nothing calmed the beast.
Rowan, the man, watched from inside as the monster did his work. He was powerless to stop it.

Though Rowan wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it at all.

These men were wolf killers, and they shot Kane.
He wasn’t sure how they escaped. His coat was sticky and hot with blood as he dragged Kane’s

limp body over the wall. The dull heartbeat pounded alongside his, but it was so much weaker than
before. So much more fragile than he realized.

The roots tightened around his heart – that thread that connected them squeezing at his very

being. He couldn’t let Kane die. Not like this.

Maybe not ever.
They moved from the castle to the woods. Soon the shouts of hunters and the scents of humans

faded to nothing in the thick forest that surrounded them. Trees pierced the icy air, and they left a
bloody trail in the snow.

The deeper they went the more evergreens towered above them. He felt the throbbing power of

the Old One territory close by, the ancient pull. But that could be more dangerous than going back to
the castle. Tightknit packs didn’t like interlopers, especially ones that passed themselves off as
humans.

He pulled Kane with ease. His body ran off adrenalin.
Rowan turned a corner and stumbled upon a little cabin hunched between a set of towering firs.

The vague scent of humans told him no one had been there for at least a year. This close to the border,
it had to belong to hunters. Hopefully, they weren’t coming back any time soon. He dropped his
burden and the alpha fell away. Rowan shivered, naked and panting, on the cabin’s porch.

Rays of sunlight fell through the canopy above their heads, and he pulled himself to his feet.

How long did it take them to get away? He had no idea, but the pull of the full moon strengthened
every moment. She would rise soon – early since it was winter.

His left leg almost gave out, and a dull pain throbbed in his back. That must be Kane’s wound.
Sighing, he banged at the door and tried the handle.
Locked.
Great.
He didn’t know if he had the strength to break the damn thing down. Not after all that silver and

wolf’s bane. But they couldn’t just sit out there and freeze to death. Every moment, Kane’s heart rate
slowed. The bullet lodged in Kane’s back was killing him. With a sick twist of his gut, Rowan realized
it might be killing him as well.

He kicked the door.
Once.
Twice.
The wood splintered around the lock, and he shoved it open.
Then he dragged Kane inside and took a deep breath. The one room cabin smelled of dust and

disuse. It was stocked with blankets and a whole pantry of canned goods. At least these hunters were
well prepared.

He moved through the cabin, leaving bloody footprints in his wake, and tried the water. It

worked, and it was hot. If he was the praying type, he’d thank Yue for such bounty. But it was her fault
he was in this mess, so Rowan simply set his jaw and ran a bath.

He sat Kane’s shivering wolf form in the water and found the wound on his back – a silver bullet

lodged right into his spine. No wonder Rowan’s own legs wobbled, and his back tingled.

The well-stocked cabin had a small first aid kit, and the kitchen had plenty of knives.

Thankfully, Kane wasn’t awake for that part. Knowing the damn assassin, he’d make smart mouth
comments the whole time.

It was hard enough to remove the bullet as it was.
Rowan carefully shaved the fur around the wound and rinsed it with warm bath water. Kane’s

head lolled over the side of the tub, his tongue dangling out of his parted mouth. If Rowan couldn’t
feel the omega’s heart, he’d have figured the wolf was already dead.

The bullet hole was small, and he cut it horizontally with a disinfected knife for better access.
There.
The shining tip of silver stuck out of flesh and bone. At least it hadn’t struck any vital organs.

Unlike humans, wolves could heal from a wound like that. Even one caused with a silver bullet.

Rowan carefully parted the flesh.
Kane whimpered in his sleep, his paws padding the water.
The pain mirrored in Rowan’s back, and he fought the urge to itch it. He needed to do this.

Needed to get that damn bullet out before the moon rose, or Kane might die.

He grasped the bullet with a set of pliers and yanked. A fiery ache exploded in his body, and his

brow dotted with sweat. A wave of dizziness pressed into his head, blurring his vision until it swam
like he was underwater. He shook the feeling away and let the bullet clink onto the floor. The tingling
subsided and his legs no longer shook.

A good sign.
But Kane’s heart didn’t speed up. And he didn’t shift back into his human form.
Fuck!
“Kane,” Rowan grumbled as he drained the water from the tub.
The omega’s eyes fluttered, though they didn’t open.
Hopefully he lost too much blood and needed to rest. He’d been shot with one silver bullet and

lived. Who said he couldn’t shake this off as well?

He wrapped Kane’s wounds tightly and set his limp form on the couch. Then, almost like an

afterthought, he covered Kane with a blanket.

Rowan went back into the bathroom and looked at his own bloody reflection. He’d shift tonight

and go on another rampage. The alpha inside him demanded it, but this time the beast didn’t claw at
his gut like usual.

It sat still, waiting.
That was almost worse than its usual eagerness.
Rowan started a shower. It took half a bar of soap to wash off all the blood, and he didn’t want to

think about what he did to those men. How little control he had over the rage that bubbled inside him
at moments like that.

If his family had lived maybe they would’ve taught him to subdue it. His father, a fellow alpha,

might’ve been able to explain the wolf to him. Teach him to temper it.

But they were dead, and Rowan was alone.
By the time he finished, evening fell around the cabin. He lit a fire, frowning at the few logs

they had left. Only enough for a week at most.

The wood hung frozen, unearthly still. The ice on the trees and ground sparkled in the failing

light. The moon tugged at him again, and Rowan dried off and stepped onto the porch, nude and ready
to give in.

Yue rose above the trees, her silvery light cool and unforgiving, and Rowan submitted to the

change for the second time in one day.

He didn’t howl this time.
No use giving away their location if any of the surviving hunters came looking for them. If there

were any surviving hunters at all. Truthfully, Rowan didn’t know.

The alpha didn’t urge him to rip and kill. Instead, a stronger desire took hold. The one that

nudged him to run from his home as a boy. The one that forced him to flee the hunters who
slaughtered his family.

The need to survive.
He caught the scent of a deer on the still air. The animal was out late, probably looking for

something that was still alive in this wasteland. Rowan hadn’t eaten in over a day – the hunger pangs
burned his stomach. They probably burned Kane’s too.

Yes. He needed to hunt.
The alpha ran into the woods.
Rowan killed one deer. A large buck with enough meat to feed them both for a several days.

Even in his wolf form he had the sense to drain the blood with a neck wound so the meat didn’t spoil.
The snow kept it cold enough.

He spent the rest of the night keeping watch on the cabin’s perimeter for any sign of trouble.
When the first light of morning hit, his body reverted to that of a man. Limbs extending and the

icy air settling around him like a wet blanket.

Rowan took another shower then, to warm up, and noticed Kane turned back into a human too.

He’d also bled out of his bandages. Rowan cleaned them both, Kane’s smooth flesh paler than usual.

When Rowan looked at Kane naked, he realized how petite the omega was. His fine bones and

the way the muscle clung to it. Kane was so damn beautiful he looked like someone carved him out of
stone. Even worse, the little shithead knew it.

Rowan gritted his teeth. Just because he thought Kane was pretty didn’t mean he was attracted

to the omega.

No way in heaven or hell.
He wrapped the wounds after he cleaned them and put Kane back on the couch. Then he added

logs to the fire and coaxed the embers to life. At least the cabin radiated a certain warmth now. They’d

need it to survive the next few days.

Then. . . well, Rowan hadn’t thought that far ahead. Considering he hadn’t killed Kane back at

the castle, he could just go on with his mission. Figure out who Kane worked for.

If the assassin didn’t get wise to his plan.
Rowan cleaned and cut the buck next. Sleep stung his eyes, but if he let it claim him he wouldn’t

be ready for an attack. And with Kane out cold, he was the only one there to protect them.

This time the hunters would bring greater numbers. More weapons. And they could surround a

little cabin easily.

Rowan barricaded the door and sat in the chair once the venison roast was in the oven. It ran off

natural gas, and he hoped there was plenty of it. Too bad the rest of the cabin was heated from the
fireplace alone.

He clutched a hunting knife in his fist and perked his ears.
The heart beside his pounded that much stronger, but he refused to look at Kane. He wasn’t

going to soften to an assassin. Even if the man saved his life.

He saved Kane’s life too; they were even.
It took another day for Kane to wake up.
Rowan knew he fell asleep at one point, because he woke with a start and a line of drool dripping

down his chin. He wiped it away and frowned. At least he didn’t fall asleep while cooking and burn
down the whole damn cabin.

Early morning light spilled through the window, and Kane moaned from his place on the couch.

His eyes fluttered, and Rowan felt his heart quicken as the omega woke.

Rowan set his jaw and took a deep breath. He stood up, all his muscles stiff. The wound on his

left leg still ached, though it was closing up nicely. It would take several days to fully heal. He
wrapped it and flinched.

Kane’s injury would take even longer.
He dished up a bowl of venison stew. It didn’t have much in it besides hearty chunks of meat

and a few canned vegetables, but it would help them survive. He brought a glass of water with it and
set them next to Kane.

The assassin blinked, nose twitching toward the food.
He expected sass, but instead Rowan got a bleary gaze and a wolf so weak he could hardly sit up

and drink on his own, let alone talk.

Rowan sighed and helped him. Kane’s body burned against his. His naked flesh wasn’t as icy as

it’d been. Now it was just shy of feverish. He hadn’t bothered dressing Kane. It was easier to get to the
wound if the wolf was naked, after all.

Kane ate and drank slowly, and closed his eyes again. Rowan figured the omega went back to

sleep, but when he tried to move, a hand gripped his arm and dug into his bicep.

“Don’t,” Kane whispered.
Rowan rolled his eyes and stood carefully. Kane’s fingers burned across his skin as he pulled his

arm away. “You’re lucky I saved your life,” he growled, like that could chop off the roots on his heart.
Cut them out and leave them to wither and die like the rest of the good things in his life.

The shadow of a smile crossed Kane’s lips. “Why did you?” he asked in a breathy whisper. His

black lashes were so thick they fluttered against his cheek like butterfly wings.

How could Rowan answer that? “I don’t know. It was probably a bad idea,” he said and slumped

into the chair. Every ounce of energy Kane expanded dragged him down too.

“Yet I’m alive,” Kane said. “Thank you,” he mumbled and his breathing deepened.
Good. The wolf needed his rest, and talking to him was a bigger energy zap than anything else.
Rowan frowned at the ceiling.

The assassin thanked him. He might be able to pull off his job now. Then the roots inside

sprouted tiny buds, like trees in the spring, and Rowan wanted to swat them aside. Chase them away.

Deceiving an assassin wasn’t a bad thing.
He was one of the good guys, though that thought felt thick and strange in his mind. A good guy

with an uncontrollable alpha inside him – an alpha who was inexplicably tied to a crazy omega.

Outside, the wind howled and the snow fell in fat clumps. A blizzard rolled over them, just like

the weather advisory predicted. Good. That would keep the hunters at bay for a few days.

He set his jaw and made up his mind. He didn’t need to trick Elijah Kane into giving him the

information. He didn’t even need to kill Kane, even if the bastard deserved it.

Rowan needed to escape before things went too far. Yue was wrong before, and she was wrong

about this.

The faster Rowan got away from that infuriatingly alluring omega, the faster he could go back to

his life alone. And he wouldn’t have to think about all the dark secrets he kept locked inside – all the
things Kane’s beautiful face and intriguing mind brought to the surface.

All the things Rowan didn’t want to face about Kane and about himself.

Chapter Eight

By the time Elijah could sit up on his own, it was three days after the full moon. He remembered

none of it. After he fell off the wall, and Rowan attacked the guards, everything faded into a great
black pit.

This time when he woke, his body didn’t beg him to fall back to sleep immediately. His stomach

gaped, yearning for something to fill it, and gave off a loud and angry grumble.

Elijah blinked at Rowan. The alpha stood in the kitchen of a small one room cabin. The rich

scent of venison roast filled the air, with the tinny smell of vegetables coming a close second. Nothing
could block out Rowan’s heavy musk. Not even the alluring food.

Cold radiated from the cabin’s walls, and he caught a peek of white outside one of the partially

pulled curtains. A fire crackled in the grate, but it only gave off enough heat to keep the chill at bay.

“You need to eat,” Rowan grumbled, his voice like two granite slabs rubbing against each other.

He hadn’t talked in days, Elijah guessed. That’s why he sounded gruffer than usual.

“You going to feed me?” Elijah asked and experimentally moved his toes, then his knees. One of

the last things he recalled were his legs not responding. For one terrible moment he feared the worse –
that he was paralyzed for good.

The ache in his back told a different story. He’d been shot with a silver bullet. Again.
At least Rowan wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger this time.
Rowan’s eyes darkened and his lips thinned into a line. His heart beat steadily, not quickening

with annoyance like it usually did. “You need to use the bathroom?”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected that. He was looking for a reaction, and Rowan

excelled at reacting. Instead, the alpha changed the subject. Could Rowan be learning?

The pressure in Elijah’s bladder twisted, and he smiled. “You know the answer to that, don’t

you? Yue really did connect us on all possible levels,” he said and slipped off the couch. Elijah’s legs
wobbled underneath him, and he grabbed the couch for support right before he tumbled to the floor.

Pain shot through his body, razor sharp and bright as the sun. The wound in his back screamed,

as did a dull ache in his leg and scrape on his neck. How many of those were his and how many
belonged to Rowan? Hard to tell while sprawled on the floor.

Before Elijah could think of something snarky to say, strong arms gathered him. Rowan’s chest

heaved against Elijah’s bare flesh, and he stared at the strong cut of the man’s jaw and the frown
etched on his lips. He might as well be carved of stone with how difficult it was to make him smile.

“My hero,” Elijah said.
To his surprise, Rowan didn’t drop him. He slipped Elijah’s arm around his powerful neck, and

they shuffled into the bathroom. The blood in Rowan’s veins ran through Elijah’s as well – hearts
pounding together, like they shared the same body.

The same mind.
They certainly shared the same sensations.
The bathroom was all done in cedar, and the strong scent of wood filled Elijah’s nose. For the

first time since he woke, he felt the sweat and grime of three days unconscious. The bath in the corner
beckoned him.

“You going to hold it while I go?” he asked with a smirk.
“No,” Rowan said and sat Elijah on the toilet. “If you can’t stand, you sit. Do you want to eat

first or bathe?”

“Can’t we do both? You don’t want to waste this perfect opportunity, do you? The two of us

alone in a secluded cabin. Think of the possibilities.” Elijah winked. It was the first time he ever tried
to sweet talk someone while on the toilet.

From the pinched corners of Rowan’s eyes, it didn’t look like it was working. A deep, sharp

wound stabbed into the alpha’s heart, mirroring itself in Elijah’s chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a
very long time – something he figured an alpha like Rowan Gregor never felt.

Fear.
“We’re not as secluded as you think,” Rowan said.
Elijah didn’t like the sound of that. After breaking out of the castle and killing Banik, the whole

town knew what they were. Hunters were after them at this very moment. Hell, the Butcher might step
in to see what his underling was up to – how Banik died.

His breath clogged in this throat at that thought. If the Butcher found them . . . .
No! That wasn’t going to happen. They’d get away.
Another thought warmed Elijah. Rowan saved his life and, even more perplexing, stayed with

the omega while he was totally helpless.

Well, logically, Rowan may not have had a choice. If Elijah was dying and Rowan didn’t save

him, what would’ve happened? Would they both die or not? The myths never made it very clear.

Still, Rowan saved him when hunters threatened both their lives. That meant something.
“I can handle the rest on my own. I don't want you to burn the roast,” Elijah said and stood up

after he finished. His legs trembled, but he needed to use the muscles in order to strengthen them.

Rowan nodded. His dark eyes swept over Elijah’s nude body once, and he left.
Elijah bit back a remark. He turned to the sink instead and washed his hands and face. His

reflection frowned at him. The last three days really had left him looking like shit. He was as pale as
moonlight. His icy blue gray eyes burned fever-bright, smudged with weariness. Lines raked the sides
of his mouth. And his hair hung limp and lifeless against his forehead.

He saw himself as a child then. It was the same expression he had after his pack died; only he’d

been bloodier at the time.

Elijah still remembered what it felt like. How it dried on his clothes and flaked off his skin like

rust. The smell nearly gagged him, and they both scrubbed and scrubbed to get clean.

Now, no matter how clean he was, all the lives he’d taken stained his soul. That kind of blood

would never rinse away, and Elijah told himself he didn’t care. Not when they deserved it. Almost.
Maxim was the only one who didn’t, yet Elijah still let him die.

It’s the only one that hurt.
That thought lit a fire in his gut, and Rowan’s body roared in response.
The alpha felt the same kind of guilt and anger. Only, he had no idea what stoked the flame in

Rowan’s gut. Not anything as terrible as what happened to Elijah and Simeon.

Alphas didn’t have tragic pasts.
“Food,” Rowan said.
Elijah threw himself a smile in the mirror, but it looked forced and worn thin. Damn. He’d have

to work on that.

Then he turned and slowly moved to the kitchen table. Every step was a chore, but the muscles

in his legs and hips strengthened with each one. And he needed to be strong. Showing his weakness to
an alpha wasn’t good for Elijah’s survival.

The roast steamed on a plate, and Rowan set it on the table next to a bowl of canned vegetables.

He watched Elijah walk in, but didn’t rush to help like he had earlier. His hands balled into fists, and
he slumped into a creaky wooden chair.

Elijah lowered himself into one and eyed the cabin. Most of the curtains were drawn, but he felt

the heavy presence of snow pressing in on all sides. It shrouded them in white silence, cradling them
from the rest of the world.

He cut into his meat. Every bite sated the emptiness in his gut, and he was sure he could eat a

whole buck and still not be satisfied. The clank of silverware on porcelain filled the air. If they had
candles lit, it’d almost be romantic.

“Did you kill the former occupants?” Elijah ventured and dished himself a second helping.
Rowan was still on his first. He held the knife and fork like they were foreign objects. His large

hands fisted over them as he stabbed at the meat. “They weren’t here. Haven’t been in a long time.”

“But if they were?” Elijah prompted. His mother used to ask why he had to push things – why he

had to ask so many questions. His father said he did it because he liked proving how much of an
omega he was by asking for pain and abuse. Elijah still didn’t know for sure. Maybe that thing inside
him yearned for the truth, whatever the hell that was.

Rowan’s dark eyes narrowed. “You’d be dead in the snow. How about that?”
Elijah smirked. “Oh, I don’t think that’s true. You saved my life. And you stuck around to

protect me for . . . how many days was I out?”

“Three,” Rowan growled and ripped into his meat like he was in his wolf form.
The alpha’s bubbling fury rolled in Elijah’s gut, waves smashing against a rocky shore. It

twisted around his heart and groin, so much like lust it was difficult to tell the difference.

“Three whole days! And you’re still here. Why?” Elijah asked and dabbed his lips. “Especially

when you tried to kill me back in Prague.”

“I shot you in the shoulder,” Rowan said and he shoved another bite of dripping meat into his

mouth.

Elijah cut his into a smaller piece and chewed thoughtfully. “That’s not an answer. I’m grateful,

believe me. Dying in the Slovakian wilderness is not my idea of a good time. Shot by hunters. Talk
about embarrassing.”

“You couldn’t be embarrassed if you were dead,” Rowan reminded him with a heavy frown.
“No. And that’s still not an answer.”
Rowan took a deep breath, and that stab of pain and fear shot into Elijah’s chest. “I hate

hunters.”

Elijah stared. “That’s it? That’s all it took? You hate hunters? I thought you hated me more.”
Especially after everything he put the alpha through. Getting captured by Banik. The torture.

Elijah didn’t put that delicious blowjob on the list because Rowan clearly enjoyed it – even if he
wouldn’t admit it. Elijah felt the alpha’s pleasure pounding alongside his.

“Guess not,” Rowan said and didn’t meet Elijah’s eyes.
Either Rowan really hated hunters, or he didn’t hate Elijah as much as he let on. The omega

wasn’t sure which to think.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence.
When Elijah finally had enough, he wiped his mouth again and went back to the bathroom. He

sunk into the tub and let the hot water surround him. It eased the lingering ache in his back and around
his neck. It didn’t ease the hurt in his heart. But then again, nothing could fix that. Not even a mate
given to him by Yue.

He left the door open, but Rowan didn’t join him.
The bastard didn’t even peek inside to catch a glimpse.
Instead, Rowan moved around the cabin, opening cupboards and rustling through drawers. At

first, Elijah didn’t know what the alpha was doing. Then it hit him – Rowan was packing. Two bags sat
on the floor, filled with various supplies and whatever weapons the cabin had on hand. Did Rowan
plan on taking Elijah with him or not?

“Going somewhere?” he asked after he climbed out of the bath. He dried off quickly in the chilly

air.

Rowan didn’t stop what he was doing, though he did cast a glance at Elijah. His cheeks flushed,

and he looked away. “What does it look like? I’m not staying here. Hunters will find us. They’ll bring
a team.”

“Oh? You’re abandoning me? Aren’t you supposed to arrest me? Wait – kill me, that’s it, right?

Looks like you didn’t do your job very well.” Elijah threw the towel around his neck.

Rowan sighed. “I never said my new orders were to kill you. Do you want to stay here?”
The ache in his back said yes, but Elijah spent enough time in Europe to know Rowan was right.

“Are you asking me to come with you?” he said and stepped up to the other man.

Rowan glowered at him and shoved a pile of clothes at Elijah’s chest. A wall he put up between

them, because the bastard refused to accept how he felt. Or, more accurately, how Yue told him to
feel.

“Oh, pink. I do look good in it,” Elijah said as he shook out the clothes. “It’s better than the

tartan.”

In truth, Rowan looked good in the deep green and gold flannel shirt. It complimented his fiery

hair, even if they were much too baggy on his muscular form. The belt around his waist made it look
like he was playing dress up in his father’s clothes.

“I’m leaving. If you can keep up, fine.”
Elijah frowned. Well, he didn’t expect warm hugs and kisses from someone like Rowan, but the

man went out of his way to save Elijah’s life.

He sat down heavily on the bed. “Is this part of your top secret mission? The one that doesn’t

involved killing me, even though you do tend to get into my business more often than not.”

Rowan blew out a huff of air through his nose. “I was sent to stop you from killing Tesar. I

failed,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Do I look like I’m on the grid? After that shit at the castle,
omega, I lost all my gear. I think you did too. I’m trying to survive at the moment.”

He was correct. Elijah didn’t even have his cellphone. He completed the job, but he hadn’t

informed his handler. That meant he hadn’t been paid for the completion of his contract yet.

Not good.
If the guild thought he was dead, they’d see no need to pay him. And Elijah didn’t kill people

simply for justice. The cash fueled his lifestyle. His reputation. Without it, he had nothing.

“I guess I lost everything in the fight,” he admitted and pulled the pants over his hips. They

clearly belonged to a woman, which meant they didn’t fit like a man’s clothes. Good thing she had
larger hips or the pants would’ve been too tight in other areas as well.

Rowan stared and his mouth drooped. The omega knew that look.
Elijah smirked and stood, stepping up to the taller man. “Oh, is that what it takes to get your

attention? You want me to dress in women’s clothing?” His finger trailed over the stubble on Rowan’s
cheek, the same auburn as his hair. The alpha’s heart skipped a beat, pounding that much harder.

The pants tightened with need – lust rushing to his groin.
Elijah couldn’t tell who was turned on more: Rowan or himself?
“You dress like that often?” Rowan grumbled and grabbed Elijah’s hand in his strong grip.
Elijah leaned forward, pressing his bare chest against Rowan’s tartan shirt. The man’s erection

curled in his jeans, stabbing into Elijah’s hip. “I’m pretty enough to pull it off. And I have nothing
against it. Whatever works, you know?”

Rowan let out a shaky breath. It sounded like the wind rattling dead leaves on a tree. His eyes

burned with the same underlying fury they always held, but beneath that anger recognition flared just
as bright.

Just as eager.
“You think dressing like a woman is good enough? I’m not gay.”
Elijah smiled coolly and pretended the vice on his heart didn’t squeeze tighter. “I. Don’t.

Believe. You,” he breathed into Rowan’s neck.

Rowan shivered under Elijah’s mouth, his entire frame trembling. Or maybe it was Elijah who

trembled.

He pressed his lips into the crook of Rowan’s neck – the musk so strong and alluring his knees

almost gave out. If Rowan wasn’t grasping his arm in that iron-like grip, he may have pooled on the
floor.

A growl rose from Rowan’s lips, his face flushing deep red. He turned suddenly, and they both

tumbled onto the bed. Rowan’s biceps trapped Elijah on either side.

The dull throb in Elijah’s back faded to nothing as he stared at the man above him.
His mate.
“This is what you want?” Rowan asked, voice gruff and uneven.
“I pictured more nudity, but generally, yes.”
Rowan studied him like he was some kind of puzzle, and the alpha wasn’t sure if he liked

puzzles or not. Then Rowan leaned close, and Elijah felt the heat rushing though his veins. His flesh
burned with it – and his fingers itched to touch that soft hair. Undo the buttons on those jeans and taste
Rowan all over again.

But if he did that Rowan might flee back into his shell. Elijah he held his breath and waited.
“You’ve been naked for days,” Rowan said, his voice pained. Like the very idea of Elijah being

naked drove him to distraction. That had to be a good thing.

“Too bad I wasn’t awake for most of it,” Elijah said and licked his lips.
Rowan stared at his tongue and mirrored the action. His heart thundered now, the sound of blood

rushing to his ears blocked out everything else in the world.

“You want me to fuck you?” Rowan growled. His mouth brushed Elijah’s like a gentle breeze on

a hot summer’s day.

“Just because I’m the omega you think you can overpower me?” Elijah said and gripped onto

Rowan’s arms. The muscles tensed and throbbed, like the man’s cock.

Elijah raised his knee and ran it over Rowan’s hearty bulge. He almost smiled at the look on the

alpha’s face – the way Rowan’s eyes widened and how he clamped his mouth shut, swallowing a
groan.

“I can overpower you. I’m not chained up this time,” Rowan said and leaned back.
Elijah’s pack always said he had a big mouth, and they were right. It got Elijah into more trouble

than anything else. He couldn’t bite back the words that rose to his lips. “Prove it, alpha.”

Rowan’s eyes sizzled, somewhere between passion and hatred. Elijah half expected the man to

say something about his injuries.

He didn’t.
The alpha’s jaw tightened, and he flipped Elijah onto his stomach like he was nothing more than

a ragdoll. The heat of his body radiated, heavy and solid.

A painful shiver shot up Elijah’s spine. “What–” he started, but Rowan cut him off.
“You want me to prove I can claim you? An injured omega whose life I saved? You know what I

could do to you? How easy it would be,” he growled and his weight shifted to his knees.

Those large hands groped at the pants around Elijah’s slender waist, claws digging into his flesh.

Rowan’s bulge nudged his ass, and he expected the fabric to rip. Rowan to expose him then and there.

Elijah couldn’t blame the alpha. He taunted and prodded, and maybe went a little too far in the

dungeon, now that he thought about it. But Yue wouldn’t stop reminding him of Rowan’s existence.

Pain blossomed like flowers in the spring whenever he looked at the other wolf. It figures he’d get a
mate so deeply in the closet he was immune to even Elijah Kane’s many charms.

Goose bumps covered his skin, and he felt a single drop of water drip down his back.
His heart pounded against his ribs, trying to break free of his chest. For a moment, Elijah

couldn’t move. He didn’t give up control like this.

The hands on his waist loosened their grip, though Rowan’s cock was just as hard, just as needy

as Elijah’s own. Then the man leaned forward.

“You should be scared of me, Kane,” he growled in Elijah’s ear and moved away.
Elijah let out a whimper and frowned into the bed. Turning over, he caught the hard line of

Rowan’s jaw.

“Scared?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “I’m not scared of an alpha or a CIA agent. Especially

not you!”

Rowan’s lips twisted into what he probably thought passed as a smile. “I can feel you,

remember?”

“I think you were scared you’d like it.”
“The alpha might like it. Not me. And you should be scared of him because he’d fuck you

without thinking twice. Hard. I don’t think it’d be pleasant,” Rowan said, his teeth gritted so tightly it
looked as if they’d shatter in his skull.

“Wait. The alpha? But you’re the alpha,” Elijah said and sat up. It was much more comfortable

to point out the flaws in someone else’s character than examine his own.

Rowan shook his head. “That animal isn’t who I am. If you’re coming with me, change that

bandage and get dressed.”

Elijah stared. He’d never met a shifter that didn’t see the animal inside as part of themselves.

That added a whole new layer to Rowan Gregor’s complexity. What could he say to that?

Then he touched the bullet hole in his back. The skin around it stung, and his fingers came away

with a touch of blood. “Where’re the bandages?” he asked.

The alpha grumbled and followed Elijah into the bathroom.
Rowan didn’t say a word, and his fingers moved lightly, wiping the wound clean. Elijah flinched

and took a sharp breath through his nose. Rowan sighed and paused before continuing. He wrapped the
bandage tightly around Elijah’s waist and tied it off.

His hands didn’t linger like they had a moment before. Then he leaned back, as if another touch

might drive him over the edge – bring out the alpha Rowan claimed didn’t belong to him.

Elijah looked in the mirror at the man standing behind him. “What now?”
Rowan’s gazed turned to stone. “After we leave here you can do whatever you want. I’m not

following you, and you’re not following me.”

That vice might as well squeeze until his heart popped – or whatever that thing in his chest was.

All this time, Elijah thought he didn’t have a heart. He was too fucked up. Too much of an asshole.
Then Rowan had to change all that. And even if he’d never admit it, those words hurt worse than the
alpha shooting him ever had.

He rounded on the man and glared. “Aren’t you noble. Letting an assassin like me get away.

Won’t your handlers get pissed?”

“My handlers won’t know about it,” Rowan said.
The fire popped – the last log tumbling into ash. It seemed like the only sound in the world, the

same sound his chest made. Hollow and fading.

“Maybe I’ll tell them,” Elijah said with a dangerous smirk. “I’ll tell them all about you saving

my life. What will they think of that?”

He was doing it again. Saying things he couldn’t take back. Pushing Rowan into a corner

because he had no idea what else to do. Even if Yue wanted them to be together, Rowan obviously had
other plans. And those plans didn’t include a sexy assassin at his side.

“They won’t believe you,” Rowan said.
“Really? They won’t wonder why I’m still alive? Come on. You should know me better by now.

I can be very persuasive,” Elijah said and flicked his eyes to Rowan’s bulge. “And you know it.”

Rowan took a deep breath through his nose. Those dark eyes seemed to absorb Elijah, yank him

forward. Their connection was as tangible as a rope. “You really want me to stick around? We’re on
opposite sides, incase you forgot. And—”

“And you want nothing to do with me because I’m a crazy assassin, and you’re the stoic good

guy?” Elijah put in. “Or is it because you're an alpha, and I’m an omega? Wait. You’re not an alpha,
but that monster inside you is.”

Rowan’s teeth flashed, white and sharp. He loomed over Elijah.
Elijah tilted his head back to look Rowan in the eye. His legs trembled, and he steeled his gaze

to remain steady. Told his hands not to shake. The tighter he grabbed at things, the more easily they
slipped away.

And they all slipped away – Walter, Si and now this infuriating wolf the moon goddess said was

his soul mate.

“What the hell do you want from me?” Rowan asked. His voice was laced with a desperation

Elijah didn’t expect.

He took a step back and bumped into the bathroom counter. It sent a shock of pain up his back,

and he winced at the collision. Elijah didn’t know how to answer that. Sex? No – it was more than that.
But he wasn’t sure how to word it, or how to explain it to himself.

Yue had a plan for them, and fighting it made everything worse. But he couldn’t help it. Elijah

fought against everything he was supposed to be his entire life. That’s how he became who he was.

Don’t bow to tradition.
Don’t accept your fate – change it.
Walter’s advice still lingered in his ears.
“Admit you want me,” Elijah said.
There. Easy enough, and something that the stubborn bastard would never do.
Rowan stared at him and took a step forward. Their bodies were so close they almost touched.

Even the chill in the air couldn’t keep the heat from rolling off Rowan’s flesh and slamming into
Elijah’s skin. Then he leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

The kiss dragged the breath from Elijah’s lungs. His mouth tingled with it, hot and spicy. The

slight brush of Rowan’s tongue – the roughness of Rowan’s stubble – delighted Elijah with
shockwaves of desire.

Strong hands grasped his shoulders.
A kiss never felt that good – that perfect. If Rowan always kissed him like that, maybe he would

give in and let the man top him.

But that was a big maybe.
Elijah gripped onto Rowan’s powerful thigh and squeezed. Pain shot through his body –the knife

wound! He released his grip, but Rowan already pulled away.

Stepped back.
Rowan’s mouth drooped, and he panted. Then he swept the back of his hand over his lips and

turned.

Elijah took a moment to steady himself before he followed. “You’re going to leave after that? I

have a feeling you never did this to one of your lady friends.”

Rowan’s shoulder’s tensed, and he stomped toward the front door and yanked it open. A flurry

of snowflakes rushed in, covering the floor. A good two feet already covered the ground, and more
fell, soft and steady. The whiteness outside was so complete Elijah hardly made out the trees around
the cabin.

No way they could hike out of here in that, unless Rowan planned on freezing to death. Elijah

really didn’t want to know what it felt like – even if he didn’t have to experience it firsthand.

“It looks like we’re stuck here a little longer,” he said and sat in front of the fire.
Rowan shut the door and frowned.

Chapter Nine

Rowan paced.
He needed to get out of that cabin. Away from Kane before the alpha did anything Rowan would

regret. Something uncharacteristic and dangerous.

Something he couldn’t take back.
The fire flickered, and he glanced at the dwindling pile of logs in the corner. They had a days

worth left – at most. The second deer would only last another night, and then it’d be nothing but
canned food until he could hunt again. And if the animals knew what was good for them, they’d stay
hidden until this storm blew past.

The sky darkened from gray to twilight, nothing but the dim shadows of trees visible through the

shroud of silent death. With every passing second it buried them. Trapped them. Ice crept up the
windows, crackling in the stillness.

Worst of all, Kane didn’t seem to mind.
He propped his feet on the table, eyes shut, and snuggled in a dusty blanket. It got cold enough

that he even put on a shirt – the pink one that matched those damn pants. The color made him look
healthier than his usual black and gray, though his eyes were just as unnerving as ever.

Good thing Kane kept them closed at the moment.
But he was still awake. Rowan couldn’t explain how he knew that. The sound of Kane’s breath

and the beat of his heart told the alpha.

Damn. He didn’t want to know.
Shadows jumped around the cabin in the uneven light. Rowan sighed and pulled the curtain

closed. They had a few lanterns and one container of kerosene, but he wasn’t going to waste them now.

For the hundredth time, he thanked the hunter’s who owned this cabin for being so well

prepared. They probably never imagined two shifters using it for themselves.

“Pacing won’t stop the snow. Come and cuddle. We can keep each other warm,” Kane finally

said and smiled peacefully. “Or am I that horrible?”

Rowan didn’t stop. He glanced at Kane and frowned. How could a man so fucking dangerous

look so damn innocent in moments like this?

At least Kane didn’t bring up the kiss. Rowan felt like he was walking around a minefield. Every

new word out of Kane’s mouth might be the one that broached the subject. He’d ask questions. Rub it
in Rowan’s face. Say something like ‘you kissed me, alpha’ and smirk that obnoxious smirk.

Rowan never felt so torn between throttling someone and fucking them in his entire life. Scratch

that – the alpha wanted sex. The man wanted to throttle Elijah.

Not Elijah. Kane. Don’t get too close. Don’t think of him as anything more than a crazy assassin.

But with every new day the alpha nudged Rowan closer to the omega.

That was the only way to explain the kiss. Rowan’s wolf side forced him into it. Why couldn’t

he have more control over that part of him? No matter how he shoved it aside, the alpha rose and took
control.

“We’re trapped here and supplies are low,” Rowan grumbled.
Kane’s eyes snapped open. He glanced at the tiny pile of wood, then cast a look at the axe over

the mantle. “And the forest is full of wood. Am I missing something? You’re the size of a lumberjack.
Chop down a tree. Hell, we could even use those kitchen chairs. They’re uncomfortable enough to go.”

The chairs were oak and covered in varnish, but they’d burn well enough. Though they wouldn’t

last more than a couple hours. With the weather outside, they needed a constant supply of wood or
they’d slowly freeze.

“It’s too wet. The wood has to cure before we can burn it, or it’ll be smoky instead of hot.”
Kane cracked a smile. “You are a lumberjack.”
“I grew up in Montana,” Rowan grumbled. His father taught him everything he knew about

surviving in Old One territory. He pouted and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. Two days since he last
shaved. Or was it three now?

Kane didn’t have a problem using the razor in the bathroom. But then he was vain enough to

care about growing a beard. Rowan wasn’t.

“Montana?” Kane asked.
Rowan nodded. The mission nudged at Rowan’s head, and he pinched his eyes shut. They were

stuck here. No escape. He might as well complete his job. There was nothing else to do while stuck in
a cabin with an assassin. A number of other options popped into his head, all involving nudity, and he
pushed them aside.

“You’re from the East Coast?” Rowan asked.
“Pumping me for information? Is this going in my profile?” Kane asked and tilted his head to

the side. “Elijah Kane’s origin: New York State. I hope you add how pretty I am to that.”

He was right, so Rowan didn’t deny it. This is exactly why he told Greer the mission wouldn’t

work. Someone like Kane was too smart to be fooled by it. But maybe if Rowan told the truth, Kane
would spill the information anyway. He did like to talk.

“What part?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms.
Kane waved his hand like he was swatting a fly. “You wouldn’t believe my hometown if I told

you.”

“Try me.”
“Lake Desolation. Lovely place. Can’t you tell from the name?” Kane said, voice thick with

sarcasm. “We lived deep in Old One territory. Back in the woods. I’m sure you can relate.”

He was right – Rowan didn’t believe him at first. It was too outrageous to be fake. “I guess you

know how to chop wood too.”

Kane’s shoulders tensed, and he tried to hide it by looking at his nails. “I used to, but I wasn’t

very good at it. I think you should handle the wood part.”

“And you’re going to go out and kill another buck for dinner?” Rowan asked, eyebrows raised.
Kane shrugged. “I may have grown up in the sticks, but now I hunt people not animals. They

look so frightened when you rip their throats out, and deer are mostly innocent. There’s no sport in it.”

His voice cut like a knife, and Rowan wondered if the alpha felt the same way. Was that why it

went on monthly rampages, killing any game he got his claws on – for sport? His chest rumbled in
response, and he shoved the sensation aside. Yearning pooled in his gut and charged through his veins.

“What was that?” Kane said and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I get it. You want to shift, don’t you?”
Perceptive little asshole. Rowan glowered. “I already said two could play at that game. Want me

to tell you all your feelings? And I’m going to have to shift to hunt. We can’t wait much longer.”

From that ghostly throbbing in his back, Rowan knew Elijah couldn’t help him. The assassin

relished in his wolf side, but only in relation to his work. He wasn’t animalistic in other ways.

Well, maybe in bed.
Rowan frowned at his rebellious brain for putting that image in his head. He’d seen Elijah naked

often enough to last a lifetime. When the man was trapped beneath him, goading him on, Rowan
feared what he might do.

Teach the omega a lesson?
No. That wasn’t it.

Something much worse. He might enjoy giving into it.
The ghost of their kiss still lingered on his lips, just enough that it reminded him of his lack of

release. He stepped faster, boots clomping across the floor. The sound pounded out a rhythm that
helped distract him from Kane’s presence.

Get his mind on anything else.
Survival was the most important part at the moment. Once this storm passed, he needed to leave

before the village hunters found them and killed them. And maybe he’d even complete his mission in
the process.

What the hell kind of CIA agent was he?
Kane curled his toes in the thick wool socks and leaned back. “You’re not planning on going out

in this weather, are you?”

“No.”
“But we’re running out of food and wood?”
Rowan nodded. “We have enough meat to last for one more meal. The organs could make

another.”

“Deer organs? That sounds disgusting,” Kane said and wrinkled his nose.
A smile threatened the corner of Rowan’s mouth, and he held it at bay. “You’re an omega who

has a problem with deer organs? I thought that’s all your kind got to eat.”

“Less than that. Try stale bread and water,” Kane said with a huff. Then he shrugged, and even

with the fuzzy blanket draped around him, the gesture looked elegant. “I’m an omega who prefers the
finer things in life. Deer organs aren’t one of them.”

Rowan wondered if that were true. Kane might be telling him a sob story to get on Rowan’s

good side. It’s not like he could trust a sneaky assassin who put him through hell, but the bitterness in
Kane’s voice was real.

Rowan knew how omegas were treated. His pack was far from kind to its own.
“Is that what your pack’s omega ate? Deer organs?” Kane asked, raising both eyebrows in mock

surprise.

Rowan frowned. He hadn’t thought about her in a very long time. “Jess ate leftovers mostly,” he

admitted. Her name felt thick and heavy on his tongue. Like a foreign language.

“Jessica or Jesse?” Kane asked, resting his chin on his knees. It made him look younger than

ever, even if he didn’t appear in his late twenties as it was.

“Jessica.” Rowan cleared his throat. He’d stopped pacing. His whole body stilled as the past

flooded his mind. He kept them buried – shoved aside for so long. But this situation was all too
familiar.

The cabin.
The snow.
Hunters on the prowl in the darkness.
Even Yue’s Blessing was creeping up on them in just a few weeks.
Only this time he wasn’t a helpless pup. He was a fully grown man with a fire in his gut and an

alpha scratching at the door of his soul. Yearning for blood.

“And? Were you horrible to her?” Kane asked. His voice held a note Rowan recognized all too

well. Resentment. Anger. It flared inside whenever he thought of hunters. What made the sensation
rise in the omega?

Well, Kane lived alone. No pack, just like Rowan. Whatever they did to him must’ve been bad if

he turned out like this.

Rowan shrugged. “She was older than me, and I didn’t see her often.” That was all true, though

he didn’t ever remember being kind. Why would he? She was just a wolf on the periphery of his

vision. An alpha scion didn’t have to pay attention to anyone but his own parents. He was going to rule
a pack, not sully himself by fraternizing with the lowliest member.

“I suppose an omega wouldn’t matter to an alpha,” Elijah mused and swept a lock of black hair

behind his ear. He glared at the fire now. Like he saw more than flames devouring the logs in it – he
saw a picture of the past as well.

Rowan looked at it and saw his home. The bodies of his pack – his parents. The sharp scent of

silver, the sting of wolf’s bane and blood.

His lungs burned in the cold air as he ran.
The fear that rose inside whenever he thought of those faceless men and women who swept

down in the night and took everything from him. And, most of all, how he vowed to never have
anything worth losing again.

Thanks to Yue, that was no longer the case.
Kane let out a snort of laughter, and Rowan jumped.
“I’ll bet you were a little shithead. Am I right?” he asked, a smile plastered on his lips. It sent a

shiver up Rowan’s spine.

“Why are we talking about this?”
“Because I’m bored,” Kane said. “I could always take you to bed, if you’d prefer.”
Rowan didn’t respond to that. He took a step forward, then slumped into a chair in front of the

fire. “I was an alpha scion.”

“So that’s a ‘yes, I was a shithead.’ Why aren’t you leading your pack now, alpha scion?”
He tried not to flinch at the title. Kane was trying to rile him up, and if he gave into it the alpha

would do something stupid again.

A light burned in the omega’s eyes, which was familiar enough. A deep seeded pain Kane tried

to bury under everything else, but it clawed its way to the surface. The same way Rowan’s past
wouldn’t stay buried, no matter how much he willed it.

Rowan sighed. “They’re dead now. Can’t be the alpha of a deceased pack, can I?”
“I guess not,” Elijah said with a grim smile. “But you didn’t build a new one. You stayed a lone

wolf. Strange for an alpha.”

He was right. Again. No matter how much Rowan hated to admit it. “And omegas usually need a

pack for protection. Strange for you.”

Kane snorted. “Protection? Is that what you call it? No. I’m much better off on my own.”
“I am too,” Rowan said, and the words constricted his chest. How true was that now that he’d

met Kane?

“Funny how much we have in common. Who offed your pack?” Kane asked.
The fire ate the last log like the fury chewing at Rowan’s gut. He took a deep breath. He weighed

the consequences of telling the truth and decided to do it. Kane couldn’t use this information against
him. And it might prompt the assassin to share his own secrets. No way in hell this entire situation
was a ruse like the bar.

“Hunters.”
He felt Kane’s keen eyes on him. The look steady and considering.
Rowan rose and picked up another log. The solid weight of the wood comforted him. The rough

bark scratched his palms.

“That’s it? A one word answer? I want details. It must’ve been bad to turn you against ever

forming another pack.”

Rowan set the log on the fire carefully and nudged the embers with the poker until it caught. The

heat colored his face, but his entire body trembled. The cold crept under the curtains, beneath the door,
and wound over his flesh. “You going to give me your story?”

Kane nodded without hesitation. “An eye for an eye.”
He would put it like that. Rowan sighed and turned back to the fire. He didn’t want to look at

Kane’s intent expression as he told his past for the first time. His throat constricted, and he swallowed.

“I was fifteen. We lived in Eureka, Montana. Up in the mountains and away from the local

shifter town. More room to run. We had a nice chunk of territory, and no one really bothered us,” he
paused as he remembered those days.

It felt like a lifetime ago. The sun on his face in the summer. The towering fir trees, the scent

like Yue’s Blessing – the longest night of the year. The night when Yue blessed her children – her
wolves. It used to be his favorite holiday. The food. The presents. Everything shining with possibility.

Rowan no longer saw it that way.
When he thought back, he remembered his room. That red plaid comforter and the window that

looked over the valley below. But it was no longer clear in his head. Now it was fuzzy around the
edges, his parent’s faces blurred. And those other pack mates, the ones in the cabins nearby, he
couldn’t even remember all of their names.

“No territory disputes?” Kane asked.
Rowan shook his head. “Not really. Montana’s got a lot of land for all the shifters. Not many

hunters when I was a kid. But Idaho is mostly human land, and they always had a problem with
shifters of any type. I’m sure that’s where the hunters came from.”

Even worse, no human law could touch anything a hunter did on Old One territory. And with his

whole pack dead, no one was around to avenge them but Rowan himself. A fifteen year old alpha
without a pack isn’t strong enough to beat a whole gang of hunters.

He cleared his throat and continued. “I was out hunting all day. It was Yue’s Blessing that night,

and I wanted something to show for it – a way to prove my worth as the alpha scion.”

He’d never admitted that out loud before, but the words spilled out. Maybe Kane’s presence had

something to do with it.

“I was supposed to shovel snow, but I decided to bag a buck instead. We had word of a big one

wandering the area. I knew my parents were going to be angry when I came back, so I stayed out
longer than normal. I tracked that damn buck halfway up the mountain, and it got away. Ran into the
woods. When I got back, the sun already set.”

He half expected Kane to laugh at that. Kane didn’t.
“Since I didn’t do my chores, I wasn’t allowed to participate in the feast. My dad sent me to the

barn with some jerky. I wasn’t allowed back in the house until morning. That’s what saved my life. I
was mad and tired, so I passed out in the hay loft.”

Rowan could almost smell the iron tools and the hay on the air. The roughness of it under his

blanket. The uneven heat from the woodstove in the lower corner. How empty his belly felt, and the
welling frustration growing inside with every new day.

Be a better alpha. Prove yourself worthy.
How would he ever be good enough?
The fire popped.
“And?” Kane prodded.
“Hunters attacked our pack that night. I woke up in the middle of it. I heard the struggle and

looked out the window. I’m pretty sure they sneaked up on the outlying cabins first and slaughtered
everyone in their homes. Our house was the last target. They threw burning wolf’s bane into the
basement, weakening everyone. My family tried to fight them off, but with the hunter’s greater
numbers and their silver bullets . . . .” Rowan trailed off and pinched his eyes shut.

The last part was the worst – not only that they all died. They all left him to deal with this raging

alpha at the most critical time in his life. Not that the hunters murdered everyone he knew and loved.

It was his reaction to it. His own damn cowardice.

Rowan ran his fingers through his hair. Kane’s heart beat alongside his, a steady thump that

calmed him. Strange. He thought it’d work him up. He blinked the sting from his eyes, and hoped
Kane didn’t feel that too.

“You didn’t fight them. You ran, right? It’s what anyone with sense would do,” Kane said, his

voice almost kind.

Rowan nodded. “I ran into the woods like a fucking coward, but it kept me alive.”
Kane whistled. “If that happened at fifteen, how did you end up CIA?”
“You think I’m going to give away my entire past? No. I need something in return,” Rowan

grumbled and poked the fire. It roared briefly and embers landed on the stone. Then he turned to Kane.

“Are you really sure you want to know what happened to my pack?” Kane asked, his voice edged

and eager. Like a child who can’t wait to share a secret. Crazy shadows danced across his face. They
made his cheeks look sunken, and his unearthly eyes glowed.

The shiver coursed up Rowan’s back again. “Eye for an eye,” he said carefully.
“I killed them,” Kane breathed.
Rowan stared. “Bullshit.” The word came out before he could stop himself.
Kane laughed and stood up. The dull pain throbbed in Rowan’s back, but he felt the same

restless energy that flooded him earlier fill the omega. “So you don’t want to hear my tragic tale?”

“How do I know it’s even true?” Rowan asked and crossed his arms. Kane was a dangerous man

now, but no way in hell he could take down an entire pack of wolves by himself.

“That’s the thing with tales. You don’t. I guess you’ll have to trust me, Rowan. But when have I

lied to you?”

Rowan thought about it. Never. Elijah Kane always told the truth. It seemed like he dared people

with it. He might twist and turn things. He kept secrets, but he didn’t outright lie. “Fine. Go on.”

Kane’s feet hardly made a sound on the floor. The boards creaked lightly under his weight.

“Where shall I start?”

“How old were you?” Rowan prompted, though he wondered if he wanted to hear this story.

He’d read the reports on Elijah Kane’s previous jobs, many of them nasty. How could this be any
better? But it could help the mission. And, a deeper part of Rowan thought, it could help him
understand his mate.

Kane looked at the ceiling as if it could give him an answer. “I was twelve. Si was ten. I

remember that because it’d been a year since our gran died. Before she got senile she used to be nice
to us. But she was nice to everyone, even if they didn’t deserve it.”

Who was Si? Rowan bit his tongue to keep from asking.
Kane’s breath hitched in his throat. “You know, one of the last jobs I pulled someone asked me

how I got like this. Mind, I’d just pulled out his partner’s heart. He had reason to question my
methods.”

“You’re getting off the subject,” Rowan said. He remembered that case. Another dirty politician.

This one bribed the police and ran a drug ring in Paris. It’s one of the cases that convinced Rowan and
Colonel Greer that Kane was a wolf.

Banik was lucky the assassin didn’t have a lot of time to finish him off. Hell, he was lucky

Rowan was unable to join.

“No. Not really. I’m going somewhere with this,” Kane said and turned sharply. He looked like a

man about to give a Shakespearean soliloquy. “See, I know why I’m like this. Training? Yes.
Experience? Check. But most of all, it’s because of my old pack. There’s no better way to learn the
exquisite art of cruelty than through an alpha. Don’t you think?”

Kane’s eyes reflected the firelight, and Rowan suddenly wished he had a blanket himself. He

didn’t move to get one.

“So your pack mistreated you,” he said softly. Like Kane was a wild animal and any loud noises

might startle him.

The omega’s chest felt like an empty pit. Fathomless and black. Filled with loneliness.
Fear.
Rowan recognized the sensation more than he wanted to admit, and it sent a chill up his spine.
Kane’s fingers dug into the blanket, his knuckles blanching. “You could say they mistreated us.”
“Us?”
“Me and Si. We were both omegas.”
Rowan heard of packs with two omegas. It was rare, but it happened. The omegas were usually

related. Did Si die and it drove Kane over the edge? He waited for the assassin to go on.

“Our father said it was my fault. He was the alpha, and our mom was one of his whores. He had

a rotating group of wolves he fucked around with. No alpha female. He didn’t want anyone to
challenge his authority. He said I needed to act like an omega.” Kane stopped and stared at the fire.
“Our mom left and joined another pack when I was about seven. She didn’t take us with her. After
that, we weren’t allowed in the main house. They kept us in a shed in the back. It had one of those old
kerosene heaters. It worked, but we had to open a damn window so we didn’t asphyxiate ourselves
during the winter,” he said and cracked a smile. “It was always better than the basement. That’s where
we had to go when we were in trouble.”

Rowan’s blood felt like ice.
“It wasn’t bad all the time. If we kept to the meadow and the lake, the rest of the pack ignored

us. Then the territory dispute with the surrounding packs started and everyone was on edge. And you
know how wolves act when they’re on edge. They have to take it out on someone.”

They had to take it out on an omega. That’s what he was really saying. Rowan frowned. He was

not going to feel sorry for Kane, no matter what the omega went through. Kane was a crazy assassin
who broke a woman’s arms in a jealous fit. He killed Brooks. He had Rowan chained to a wall in a
dungeon, though Rowan did shoot him.

“So your pack took it out on you and Si?”
Kane nodded, and his chin dropped to his chest. “I think our dear dad broke every bone in my

body over the years. Or almost every bone. The arms were the worst. You’d think it was the legs, but
at least I could eat with my hands. Pull myself through the dirt. With both arms broken and the ribs –
fucking torture!”

No matter how dismissive they were of Jess, Rowan knew his pack never beat her. They never

hurt her like that. Though, when he thought of it, this didn’t surprise him. Bile rose in his throat.

“I could handle it,” Kane said and started pacing again. “It sucked, but it didn’t break me. It

made me who I am today. But Si, well, he stopped talking. He stopped doing a lot of stuff after that. It
happened in the summer. Dad locked us in the basement again. It was dark and damp, and we were
supposed to keep totally silent, or we’d get another beating.

“We were down there for two days, trying so hard not to talk or move. Then Si started crying. It

was quiet at first. I thought maybe dad wouldn’t hear it. Maybe he was away from the house. He
wasn’t.”

Kane stopped and took a breath. “I heard his shoes on the floor. Dust fell in my eyes, but I

couldn’t help staring at the trapdoor. I knew he was going to open it and hurt us again. Even worse,
he’d hurt Si because he’s the one who cried. And for the first time in my life, I was fucking sick of it. I
wanted to do something about it. So, as the door creaked open, I shifted and jumped at him.

“I was so weak after two days with no food or water. He threw me off like I weighed nothing

more than a feather.”

Kane’s eyes lost focus, and Rowan felt like he was looking in the past alongside the omega. As

if the thing that connected their bodies and emotions also connected their memories.

Fear clogged his throat and a boiling anger bubbled underneath it. Rowan balled his hands into

fists. If he wasn’t careful, he’d reach out and grab Kane. Touch him. And who knows what the alpha
might do?

If Kane’s former pack was dead, the alpha had no one to seek vengeance on. That meant it might

turn to something worse than revenge, and Rowan didn’t want to think about it.

“He pulled Si out by the hair. I remember that, because my little brother didn’t make a sound.

He didn’t even whimper. Tears streamed down his face. It was smudged with dirt and he was so
skinny. But his eyes . . . that’s what got me. They weren’t wide with fear – no, they were resigned to
whatever happened next. It’s like he just stopped fighting, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t sit there
and take another moment of it.”

“And?” Rowan breathed. He’d moved to the edge of his seat without realizing it.
“I turned human and grabbed a knife. One of those big kitchen knives. Dad had Si shoved

against the wall, holding him by the neck. His face was blue and his body just hung there. I stabbed
our dear father in the back. I must’ve hit the heart because there was so much blood. His body
trembled, and he fell with a heavy thump that shook the floor. Then I grabbed Si, and his eyes
fluttered. When he saw the knife, he didn’t flinch. He accepted that too.”

“How did you take out a whole pack like that?” Rowan asked. One alpha with his back turned

made sense, but a whole group of other wolves?

Kane smiled sickly. “The territory battles claimed most of them. Other pack members ran off.

Dad and two mid-rank wolves were all that was left, besides the two of us. I didn’t have to wait long
for them to find us. When they did,” he drew his finger across his neck.

Rowan didn’t ask for anymore details. He’d done plenty of questionable things in his line of

work. Killed men who deserved to be killed. And now that he looked at Kane, he wondered if they
were more alike than he wanted to admit. He was supposed to be working for the good guys, but it
stopped feeling like that a long time ago.

A crazed assassin wasn’t a good guy either.
“Then we burned the house down and left,” Kane said and slumped in front of the fire. His

shoulders trembled under that blanket. The sensation raked through Rowan’s body just as strongly, as
if he was the one shivering and not the omega.

“What happened to your brother?”
Kane shrugged. “Lost track of him a long time ago.” His voice creaked with loss and regret,

more so than the rest of his story.

It twisted Rowan’s heart, those roots digging down to the core. How the hell could he yank them

free now without killing himself?

He wasn’t sure when he slipped off the chair, but he ended up on the floor next to Kane. Then

Rowan reached out and touched Kane’s shoulders, tentatively, like he might dissipate into a puff of
smoke.

Kane, no – Elijah didn't.
“I’m not weak. I’ll never be weak again,” Elijah muttered and leaned into Rowan’s arms. The

tension eased from his body with every passing second. They watched the fire crackle and burn, as if it
incinerated the past.

With Elijah close like that, all the pain and fear melted away. The red thread twisted around

them, knotting itself until he knew they’d never get free.

Rowan needed to think about his mission – the hunters – but at the moment he couldn’t fathom

why any of that mattered. He pushed it all from his mind, and gripped onto Elijah until the omega fell

asleep.

Chapter Ten

Elijah shivered under the blankets. His head pounded, like he had too much to drink, and he

groped for something warm. He didn’t remember falling asleep. What he did remember filled him
with dread.

The fire. The past. Rowan’s strong arms holding him until darkness claimed him. Maybe that

last part was a dream.

The bed next to him was empty – no shadow of warmth to be found.
He frowned and opened his eyes.
Gray light flooded the cabin through a few open curtains. The fire crackled low, emitting what

little heat it could.

But that wasn’t what caught Elijah’s attention.
Rowan was gone.
He sat up, and his heart stood still. The alpha did it – left him alone to deal with the hunters

when they came. And who wouldn’t retreat after the story Elijah told? He thought, briefly, about
telling a grand lie. Making up a tragic past to suit his present, but nothing was as bad or as fitting as
the truth. Once it spilled out, he couldn’t stop it.

But it didn’t make him feel free or lighter. It turned his stomach to remember his pack. To think

of Si out there somewhere, going through the motions like he always did.

Alone.
Worst of all it fucking hurt. Reminded Elijah of that shriveled thing he called a heart. Maybe it

wasn’t as small and insignificant as he thought.

Then he felt the strong thump of Rowan’s heartbeat next to his. It was close, and if he closed his

eyes and focused, he could figure out where Rowan was.

He rubbed his arms and frowned. Is that how the alpha found him in Liptovsky Hradok? Their

connection was more like a compass – interesting and potentially very dangerous.

A huff of effort sounded outside, followed by the slick chop of an axe into wood. Elijah peeked

out the window and almost laughed.

Rowan was cutting the lower branches off the trees. The snow came up to his thighs, and he

shivered in a large coat. His hat was dusted with white, and the flakes clung to his face like spider
webs.

No wonder he was cold.
With a heavy sigh, Elijah dressed to join him.
The only other coat in the cabin belonged to a woman. It was white, which was nice. He’d blend

into the snow better than Rowan did in that navy blue thing. Too bad his feet were too big for her
boots. He pulled on the only other pair, which were much too large, and clomped onto the porch.

Elijah stared for a moment before he said anything. No matter what happened the night before,

he didn’t hold any illusions about Rowan’s motives. The alpha probably wanted that information for
professional use – to fill out Elijah’s profile in the CIA database, no doubt.

Not like it told them anything new, besides Simeon’s existence. Elijah couldn't worry about that

now.

“I thought fresh wood wouldn’t burn?” he said.
Rowan swiped his hand over his forehead, and Elijah almost felt the sweat freeze on the alpha’s

back. “We’ll dry it in the oven and near the fireplace. It’ll work short term.”

The alpha thought of everything, didn’t he? Elijah smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll hunt.”

Rowan brought the axe down, chopping a large branch in two, and looked at him. “Your back

isn’t healed. I can feel it. Not sure you should try.”

“There are rifles and bullets in the closet.” Elijah said. Hunting for food wasn’t something he

liked, but he’d done it before and he could do it again. He wasn’t going to sit on his ass and act like a
prince who never lifted a finger in his life. He meant it when he said he wasn’t weak – he could take
care of himself.

Unless he got shot in the back with a silver bullet, it seemed.
“Fine. Don’t wonder far,” Rowan grumbled and tossed the wood into his growing pile.
Elijah paused at the door. That thing in his chest squeezed, urging him closer to Rowan’s side.

“That’s sweet. Are you worried about me?”

Rowan balanced the axe on his shoulder and took a sharp breath. The air colored his cheeks rosy,

and his auburn hair stood out like blood in the sea of white. “I’m willing to admit we need to work
together to get out of this alive.”

Elijah shrugged. “Hunters aren’t the only things we need to worry about. The Butcher runs these

borderlands. I’m sure the CIA has tabs on him.”

Rowan froze, mid swing, and slowly lowered the axe to his side. His lips pursed into a thin line.

“That’s a good reason for us to get away as soon as possible.”

Elijah stared for a moment. What Rowan didn’t say was, despite the snow trapping them in

place, the only escape would be through hunter infested territory or Old One territory. Either one
could get them killed. The omega didn’t mention it either. They’d find a way to survive – he hadn’t
lived this long for nothing.

He slipped inside to grab the gun. The rifle was ancient by his standards. But it was clean and

powerful enough to kill a deer. Elijah slung it over his shoulder, slipped a knife into his pocket, just in
case, and trudged back out into the snow. His stomach gurgled for food. The wound in his back ached,
coupled by Rowan’s injuries.

Maybe the alpha was right about it, but they needed to eat. They needed meat.
Elijah got clear of the cabin, into the woods, and the chill raked up his body. The snow nearly

came to his waist. He needed to kill something big – something that would feed them long enough to
survive another couple of days.

The world felt like it held still, but that wasn't the case. Things moved outside this frozen

bubble. Those hunters could descend on them as soon as the snow cleared. Elijah had no idea how long
that would take in this part of Slovakia.

Then he and Rowan could go back to being enemies – the world’s order restored.
Elijah’s breath caught in his throat. Those sharp things dug deeper into his heart, almost like he

could feel them clamping on it like a pair of iron jaws. His body sensed Rowan’s – no matter how far
apart they traveled he’d always know where the alpha was.

They’d always find each other.
Which meant they’d either kill each other. Ignore the sensation for the rest of their lives. Or

they’d claim each other. His skin prickled at the last one.

It warmed him, and he realized Rowan must’ve stepped inside. He must be in front of the fire by

now, heating himself and giving part of his warmth to Elijah in turn. Even if neither of them admitted
the truth, this feeling wouldn’t go away. Once bound they could never be unbound – that’s what the
old legends said.

Elijah smiled.
Yue was as stubborn as he was.

He found a tree with edible tips and crouched downwind in wait. From the condition of the

snow, it looked like deer fed on it regularly. He hoped they returned before long.

If it weren’t for Rowan’s distant warmth, he probably would’ve frozen a long time ago. He

didn’t have a watch, but it felt like he was out there for hours. Elijah almost turned and gave up when
he heard the slight trudge of a body moving through the snow.

The buck was young, only a year or two old by the look of his antlers. Elijah steadied the rifle on

his shoulder and let out a slow breath. He knew how to snipe, but he preferred killing up close. Doing
it at a distance was so impersonal.

His fingers trembled from the cold, the metal chilling them further. The buck reached for the

soft tree tips, his coat dusted with snow, and Elijah steadied himself for the kick.

A far off shout broke through the silent forest.
The buck perked its ears and jumped.
“Fuck!” Elijah cried and turned.
The snow slowed him, and unlike the buck, Elijah couldn’t leap into the air. He cursed under his

breath and followed the sound. He had to see what made that noise.

When he got to the top of the hill he stopped. There, through the trees, stood the castle they

escaped from five days before. It swarmed with cars, expensive SUVs. The reek of silver filled the air,
even with the snow billowing into Elijah’s face. That far away, he couldn’t make out any voices. The
wind snatched them before they reached his ears.

Rowan wasn’t lying – they were much closer to town than he realized.
Too close.
Elijah’s gut twisted, and he hated the fear that held him still. It reminded him of the darkness

and pain that haunted his entire childhood. He didn’t have to see the man’s face. Elijah remembered
that stench anywhere – even in this frozen place.

The Butcher was down there. He came to see how Banik got himself killed. And he brought an

army of hunters to swarm the castle’s walls.

Two wolves couldn’t fight that many – they’d never survive.
His heart pounded, and his hands shook. Shit! He had to get back to the cabin and warn Rowan.
As he turned to leave, another shout rang through the air. Distance didn’t jumble the word this

time; Elijah heard it loud and clear.

“Vlk.”
He almost laughed. He used the same thing against Rowan, and now it bit him in the ass.
Elijah tried to run.
It didn’t work.
Even when he went back the way he came, the oversized boots made it impossible to move

quickly. He’d either have to sit in wait or hide.

He hated the sound of both options – the great Elijah Kane didn’t hide.
Not anymore.
Silver stung his nose.
Fuck!
They were close.
He closed his eyes and listened, for only a moment. Elijah heard three others in the vicinity.

Three hunters he had to contend with while healing. Not bad odds, but he’d need to shift in order to
fight properly. And that meant stripping down in freezing weather beforehand. Or he could take them
out with an old rifle and a hunting knife.

Neither choice appealed to him.
A cross bolt buzzed through the air, and he ducked. The silver burned the tip of his ear.

Too close!
He bent to shift, but a huge rusty wolf leapt from the trees. One of the hunters screamed, and it

turned into nothing more than a gurgle.

Elijah felt the heat of the blood against his fur – no, that was Rowan’s fur.
A tree creaked over Elijah’s head, and he spotted a woman in it. She gripped a cross bow, her

eyes narrowed and her face covered. At least she wasn’t paying attention to him. Her gaze was on
Rowan.

He knelt, slipped another bullet in the chamber and shot.
She tumbled out of the tree with an oomph, a cloud of white rising around her body. He listened

for her heartbeat to fade, and it did.

Two down and one to go.
But where the hell was the bastard?
The snow and cold dulled his senses. With Rowan so close, it was difficult to pay attention to

anything else. Difficult to focus on the third heartbeat, listen for the crack of a branch or the slow
intake of another breath. The blood from the two dead hunters didn’t help matters. It clotted the air,
covering the whole area in the stench of wolf’s bane.

Elijah squinted into the trees.
Rowan stood several feet off, his nose turned to the air.
They both waited.
Thunder cracked.
The alpha lunged, knocked Elijah over and yelped.
Pain ripped through Elijah’s side, stinging and bright. Was he shot?
Again?
No. The blood wasn’t his – it was Rowan’s.
The alpha jumped in front of a silver bullet for him, but why?
No time to think!
Elijah leapt to his feet and pinpointed the third hunter.
There! Behind the bushes.
He crouched low, letting the drifts of snow cover him.
Rowan glanced at him and nodded his great head. His blood colored the snow, but there was less

of it than Elijah feared. Already the sting dulled with the cold.

The white coat helped him blend in, and he slipped his fingers over the knife’s hilt. His hand

gripped it, fighting the numbness.

When Elijah was in position, Rowan’s great form rose from the snow. He was the decoy, Elijah

realized and smiled.

The hunter took aim.
Then Elijah lunged forward and slid the knife over the man’s throat. Flesh parted, spilling hot

blood down his front. He cut deep enough to kill the bastard within seconds.

Both Elijah and Rowan’s hearts pounded as one, and snowflakes drifted from above. They

shared a knowing glance as they trudged back to the cabin. While they killed this group of hunters,
more would come after them soon enough. Hopefully, they had a few hours to prepare.

A new fear coursed through Elijah’s body. With the snow this thick, they couldn’t hide their

tracks. They either had to get out before the hunters found them or wait for an attack.

Or flee into Old One territory and hope for the best.
Elijah didn’t like any of those options.

* * *

They stumbled into the cabin, and Rowan shifted back into a man. They were both sticky with

blood and frozen from the snow. The combined sensation was worse than taking a midnight swim in
the Vltava.

The silver bullet scraped Rowan’s side. An angry red gash oozed, right near his ribs. Black lines

of the poison spread from it. When Elijah stripped he found them on his skin as well.

“Bath,” he said, his teeth chattering in his skull as he threw off the wet clothes.
Rowan didn’t argue.
He hoped some of the wood was dry enough to burn.
The cedar tub was oversized; otherwise both of them wouldn’t have fit. Elijah turned on the

faucet and let the steaming water fill the tub. Then he slunk his arm around Rowan’s waist, and helped
the alpha into the hot water.

Rowan slid in and pulled Elijah with him. “We both need to warm up,” he grumbled, though his

voice shook.

“Here I thought you were being romantic,” Elijah said with a tight smile. The water burned,

reminding him of places that went numb. He better not have frostbite anywhere important.

Rowan grunted. With unwavering calm, he placed his large hands on Elijah’s shoulders and

gripped them. He’d done the same thing when they kissed the day before, and Elijah stared.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” he asked.
What a situation. He was too cold and worried to be properly pleased. His conquest was nearly

complete – only now it seemed like less of a victory. It felt like something more.

Rowan didn’t answer. His hands wandered down Elijah’s chest.
Slowly.
Tentatively.
The calloused fingers raked across Elijah’s skin like he might shatter into a million pieces. No

one ever touched him like that. Rowan paused at the bruise.

“Another wound is not what we need,” Rowan said and let out a heavy sigh.
The water soothed Elijah’s spent muscles and begged him to melt into it. With Rowan there, the

temptation gnawed at him. “We? Are you saying we make a good team?”

Rowan’s lips thinned into a line.
Elijah knew he wouldn’t say it. He’d never admit they made a good anything.
Then Rowan let out a long breath through his nose, and his eyes pinched at the edges. His fingers

sizzled against Elijah’s flesh. “Better team than me and Brooks.”

Brooks. His old partner. The one Elijah killed when they first met. “So I wasn’t over hasty on

our first date?”

Rowan’s hands splashed into the water, and he frowned at them like they were a pair of ill-

matching socks. “He would’ve killed you, if he could. Not over hasty, just . . . inconvenient.”

While Rowan didn’t scowl or say ‘that wasn’t a date,’ Elijah still wished he’d kept his damn

mouth shut. That touch was worth more than any answer. But it was better than Rowan’s old ‘you
killed my partner’ routine.

They were making progress, at least. He wasn’t going to press his luck by asking about the

woman whose arms he broke, however. Rowan may never forgive him for that one.

The hot water eased over his chest, and Elijah grabbed the washcloth and lifted it to Rowan’s

wound. For once, he wouldn’t ruin the moment.

Those black eyes locked onto his face, and Elijah avoided their stare. He focused on Rowan’s

chest and the slight red curls plastered against it. How the muscles tensed when Elijah’s fingers
flicked across the skin.

Ashina’s Glory he’d like to taste that salty sweet flesh again. But if he did, Rowan might slip

away and deny everything like he had before. And the alpha had only just come out of his hole.

Rowan flinched when the cloth met his wound. The water around it turned pink as Elijah gently

dabbed it clean. “Not too deep,” he murmured. “I can stitch it. There’s a sewing kit in the dresser.”

“A man of many talents. Who taught you that?” Rowan asked, his voice rough. It no longer

shook with cold. That was a good sign.

“Walt–” Elijah froze, the name dangling on his tongue. “Wait. Are you pumping me for

information again? If you want to know the name of my infamous trainer, I should make you work for
it. He was a fellow assassin. Aren’t you interested?”

Rowan’s tongue flicked over his lips, pink and hungry. His brow furrowed, but his expression

hovered more toward cautiously interested than annoyed. Progress. “What do you want me to do?”

Oh, the shining possibilities. Elijah would’ve thanked the damn hunters if he could. Look at

what they gave him – a willing alpha. No. Not an alpha. A willing Rowan. Was he ready to stop
denying the truth or was he playing Elijah like all those women he tossed away in the past?

Only one way to find out, and at the moment, Elijah wasn’t sure he cared. “You can’t guess?” he

asked, his lips turning up.

Rowan ran a wet hand through his hair. It stood up on end. “You think you can claim me? Or

that I’d willingly agree to it?” His heartbeat betrayed his words. It picked up the pace when he said
‘claimed,’ and it wasn’t pounding out of anger. Lust rolled through his veins, mingling with the same
sensation pooling in Elijah’s body.

Desire and a feeling Elijah couldn’t put his finger on.
Regret?
Apprehension?
“This argument again? Is it going to end like the last one did?” Elijah asked and swiped the cloth

farther down Rowan’s flesh.

His stomach muscles tightened visibly at the touch. A flare as bright as a flame burned in

Rowan’s dark eyes. Was that the alpha the man kept in check? The one that could work Elijah over, if
the omega pushed him too hard.

A strong hand grasped Elijah’s bicep. The fingers dug into the skin, firmly but not painfully.

“What’s your price?”

Another kiss came to mind. If he asked for something chaste, it might throw Rowan off balance.

Elijah knew he’d learn nothing from Walter’s full name. The man didn’t exist as anything more than a
shadow, and he’d been dead too long to matter. Not to anyone but Elijah and Si.

“What do you want it to be?” Elijah asked and brushed the cloth lower. The curls around

Rowan’s cock tickled his fingers. The shaft throbbed, giving off a measure of heat in the steamy
water. Touching it would be so fucking easy, but Elijah kept that urge in check even if it made his
fingers twitch with anticipation.

Rowan’s hand wound higher. His skin burned against Elijah’s, rough fingers brushing his

shoulder and over his alabaster smooth neck.

Was this it? Was Rowan going to strangle the life out of him here and now? He wouldn’t

succeed – alpha or not. Elijah had been trained for situations like this, only he’d never felt the swirl of
lust and pain and confusion rising in his gut and settling in his groin.

His heart jumped, and the breath hitched in his throat.
Rowan’s touch wandered over Elijah’s jaw. The blunt edge of his thumb swept Elijah’s bottom

lip, slowly and purposefully. The alpha’s lips pursed in response and a low growl rumbled in his chest.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said quietly.
“Me neither,” Elijah breathed.

He never asked for an alpha – a CIA agent – or a damn mate.
Yet look what Yue dropped in his lap?
Then Rowan leaned forward. The man’s heavy musk filled Elijah’s nose, and they stared at each

other for a long moment. Hearts pounding. Noses brushing. They breathed the same air. Existed in the
same space.

That bloody red thread might as well be barbed wire for how it twisted around Elijah’s heart. Or

was it Rowan’s heart? And more importantly, did it matter anymore?

The heat of Rowan’s lips shoved the thought from his mind. There wasn’t a damn thing chaste or

gentle about it. Hot passion surged through Elijah’s veins as he opened his mouth in response. A
tongue darted in. Back out. Flicked against his like a piece of velvet.

The cloth slipped from his hands and floated away. His fingers found purchase on Rowan’s hip.

The muscles moved under the smooth flesh, and a moan gathered in the alpha’s throat and vibrated
against Elijah’s chest.

Rowan gripped the back of Elijah’s neck, while his other hand slipped around the omega’s waist,

pulling him closer. Their bodies slid together easily in the water. Every place they touched burned.

The kiss felt like drowning pleasantly. Steam from the bath lightened Elijah’s head, even as he

fought to maintain his carefully crafted control. There was no such thing as control in a moment like
this.

His cock ached, curled against his stomach like that. From the urgency in Rowan’s touch, the

way his mouth explored Elijah’s neck, tasting and sucking in turn, he felt the same.

No – Elijah knew the alpha felt the same.
He sensed the beast contained within. The animal clawing at the surface, begging for his release.
Elijah was not about to deny him.
Fingers wound in his hair, and something between a moan and a whimper escaped his lips. He

never made sounds like that. Never felt so much like a piece of putty in another man’s hands.

Rowan’s lips quirked against Elijah’s neck, and his tongue flicked out. It trailed the length of

Elijah’s collarbone, the heat of it grazing the omega’s nipple before the gentle squeeze of teeth took
their place.

Elijah hissed, arching his back into the pleasure.
“What else do you like?” Rowan growled. His hand slid down Elijah’s back, the fingers raking

over the slick skin.

“Just about everything,” Elijah said in a breathy whisper. He couldn’t even speak properly now.
Rowan’s hand dug into Elijah’s ass, squeezing it. “Everything?”
“Almost everything,” Elijah amended, heart slamming. The alpha had to feel that. The

hesitation. Reluctance to give in. He’d known every other kind of pleasure in the world, but that was
something he kept at arms reach.

It felt too much like weakness.
Rowan blinked, and Elijah stiffened at that look.
Then the hand slid over his thigh, toward Elijah’s curled cock. He wasn’t going to force it? The

alpha didn’t want to teach this cheeky omega a lesson he’d never forget?

That was a first.
Rowan’s cock pounded for release just as badly as Elijah’s own. Together, it made the moment

nearly unbearable. Especially since Rowan’s hands paused inches away from the prize, and his mouth
twitched into a frown.

“Problem?” Elijah asked. No way the alpha could say he wasn’t turned on – the evidence was

right there!

Rowan took a breath, and his gaze flicked from Elijah’s swollen shaft to his eyes. “A hand job

seems so impersonal.”

He almost laughed at the look on Rowan’s face. It was as far from neutral as possible. Not quite

innocent or naïve, no one could accuse a man with Rowan’s experience of being either one of those.
His eyes shone with hunger for something he never knew he wanted, and now that he had it he wasn’t
sure what to do with it.

“Were my lips around your cock impersonal?” Elijah asked and pressed their bodies closer. “It

didn’t feel impersonal to me.”

Rowan stared. His mouth dropped open. “That’s what you want?”
Elijah was not one to say no to a blowjob, but that’s not all they could do. “I don’t want to stop

your creativity.”

Rowan’s strong thighs bunched beneath Elijah’s ass, the muscles powerful enough to ride like a

goddamn horse. The alpha’s cock twitched as Elijah’s iron-clad length brushed against it. The pleasure
shot through his shaft, pooling in his balls.

“Does that feel impersonal?” Elijah moaned.
Rowan growled. The alpha didn’t need further prompting. His hips ground closer, and he

gathered both throbbing cocks in his hands. The heat of his touch rivaled that of the water, his grip
firm and strong.

Elijah’s body sung. Every nerve responded to the slip of a calloused palm and those large, deft

fingers sliding over the tip of his length. They couldn’t get any closer without fucking, but this was
close enough. He wanted to look into the eyes of the wolf Yue bound to him. The alpha she thought
was his.

Rowan’s brow furrowed and his breath heaved. His eyes pinched, and for a moment Elijah

feared he’d stop.

He didn’t.
Rowan leaned forward, his free hand slipping up Elijah’s thigh, and gripped the omega’s slender

hip. His fingers dug into the flesh. The other hand lingered on Elijah’s cock, his palm firm. The water
distorted their size, but Elijah knew Rowan was larger than him – thicker and longer, and Elijah
wasn’t a small man in that sense.

His hips rolled with Rowan’s, like a ship on a stormy sea. Only this ship was fueled by lust and

that mysterious sensation that tied them together.

They kissed again, hot and needy. Elijah felt his composure slipping. The thing he held onto so

closely, broke with every touch. He was losing control. Letting the alpha have his way and – it was
much better than it ever sounded.

Still.
His mouth trailed down Rowan’s rough jaw. The stubble tickled his lips and nose, and his hands

wandered toward the pulsing prize between Rowan’s thighs.

His fingers found purchase. Rowan’s cock jumped at the touch, and the alpha groaned in

surprise, his eyes widening. The pleasure, that honey thick ball of delight in his belly, unfurled. Closer
and closer to release.

Then Rowan pushed Elijah’s hand away and hooked it over his shoulder. His palm took the

omega’s place, gripping them that much tighter. Their bodies entwined.

The jolt of desire made it impossible to think straight, but Elijah furrowed his brow all the same.

He couldn’t let Rowan get the upper hand.

If he did. . . .
Rowan must’ve read the question in his eyes. He licked his lips and kissed Elijah’s delicate jaw.

“This is for you, remember? I want to see what you look like when you come. Then I’ll make you
come again.”

His words raked across Elijah’s flesh, exciting goose bumps in their wake. This was about his

pleasure? Is this how Rowan treated his many conquests? No. Elijah remembered Rowan’s throaty
moan more clearly than that of the drunk Czech woman.

Another kiss drove the question from his mind. Teeth nipped at his bottom lip, and his body

sizzled and popped.

He could close his eyes and let it sweep over him. The musk of the alpha. Those fingers. The

way Rowan’s mouth lingered in one place long enough to fulfill some silent fantasy they both shared.

Each sensation doubled. Elijah’s entire being overflowed with it. The omega, always stalking at

the corners of his mind. Always waiting within reach, but keeping to the shadows. Always deadly. It
rolled over as the alpha moved closer.

Giving into Rowan wasn’t supposed to happen like this, and it wasn’t supposed to feel so

fucking good.

A hot mouth brushed his shoulder, and his fingers found purchase in that mane of thick auburn

hair. The steady throb of Rowan’s cock drove him forward. His body twitched and ached, his load
spilling in a sudden burst.

“Fuck!” Elijah moaned.
Rowan’s lips pressed into his shoulder and smiled against his skin, but the alpha didn’t stop.

Chapter Eleven

The alpha had control.
That’s what Rowan told himself as Kane’s release shot through his body as if the orgasm had

been his own. Only he knew it wasn’t entirely true. Sure, the alpha begged to taste Kane’s sweet
mouth and feel that smooth, slick skin with every inch of his body. But Rowan still let it happen. The
desire he tramped down for years bubbled to the surface and overflowed. The women he used never
satisfied the alpha because he was gay. He couldn’t hold that truth back any longer.

Rowan didn’t want to hold it back any longer.
Kane was an assassin. Dangerous. This might all be a game to him. But Rowan felt the same

desire grating over the omega’s body. No way Kane could fake that when Rowan felt everything Kane
did, right down to the most miniscule of emotions.

And right now, Rowan didn’t want to stop what he was doing.
The look on Kane’s perfect face pushed him forward. He’d never cared about his partner’s

release before – he only fucked around to keep the alpha in check.

This was different. And not only because Elijah’s pleasure rebounded back into Rowan. This was

about the way the omega’s lithe body responded to every touch. The way his skin burned under
Rowan’s fingertips, how his eyes fluttered, his lips parted and those sharp, brightly intelligent eyes
softened with lust.

No. It wasn’t lust. That stoked a fire – this look was almost hesitant.
And Elijah Kane never hesitated in anything.
Ever.
Even with the wound on his side, Rowan rose from the tub, his arms wrapped firmly around

Kane’s slender waist.

“Done with the bath?” Kane murmured, though his voice held none of the same sharpness it

usually did.

Rowan didn’t answer with words. The bath might be over, but he’d told Kane the truth – this was

about the omega’s pleasure. And it wasn’t going to stop until the alpha wanted it to.

The bathroom air held the steam, keeping the room warmer than the rest of the cabin. Rowan sat

Kane on the counter, shoving the various bottles cluttering it aside. He didn’t have time for anything
that didn’t involve those tasty lips.

Elijah’s fingers dug into Rowan’s shoulders, and the man tried not to flinch at the touch. Even in

this state, old wounds still hurt.

“Sorry,” Kane said, his lips brushing Rowan’s in an almost kiss. “Sure you don’t need any

help?”

Rowan shook his head and fell to his knees. Plenty of women had given him head, but it never

felt as good, as intimate, as when Elijah did it. Talk about fucked up. But it wasn’t because Kane was a
man. It had more to do with that thread holding them together. The string that dug into his heart,
soaked in his blood, and gave him insight into the omega who should be his enemy.

Elijah’s thighs parted, his fingers combing Rowan’s hair. The touch sparked electricity across

Rowan’s skin. The cock that curled up with need now hung dormant.

Rowan knew how to change that.
His lips brushed Elijah’s knees. The corded muscles under Kane’s thighs tensed, and Rowan

imagined the look on the omega’s face.

Shock. Delight. That question Rowan wasn’t sure how to answer.
He knew Elijah wouldn’t be fool enough to trust him. An assassin didn’t stay alive that long and

do such a damned good job at keeping under the radar by trusting anyone. Rowan wasn’t a warm and
cuddly person either. Hell, he didn’t even trust the beast hidden inside.

But this wasn’t about trust. . . it was about the truth.
Yue spoke, and they’d never be rid of each other until death. That was the truth, and the more he

denied it the more painful it became.

Giving in felt so much better.
“You really want me to come again?” Elijah asked as Rowan’s mouth traversed closer to the

omega’s need. His voice held a note of humor.

“That’s what I said,” Rowan growled. His cock throbbed. Hungry for another touch, and that

sensation flowed from him and back into Kane, just like he thought it would.

“What about you?” Elijah breathed.
Rowan didn’t answer. His hands wound up Kane’s hips. The slick skin burned fever hot under

his palms, and the omega’s stomach muscles hardened. The mass of dark hair around his cock smelled
strongly of musk, spicy sweet. Rowan’s mouth watered, and his tongue flicked out in anticipation.

The skin was velvety smooth and hot. Salt and bathwater came a close second to Elijah’s

alluring taste. Slowly, he gripped the base, his palm rubbing Elijah’s balls, and his tongue swirling the
head until it wept.

“Fuck,” Elijah groaned, his grip of Rowan’s hair tightening.
It stung Rowan’s scalp, but the sound of Kane’s pounding heart, and the blood rushing to

Elijah’s need so quickly after his release, was worth that slight discomfort. Every new lick elicited a
new glorious sound. A new twitch of pleasure from his body.

Rowan’s chest rumbled with a groan. The hot desire filled him just as readily.
“Say my name,” Rowan said once Elijah’s cock stood at full mast, the head wet and the shaft

straining. Rowan’s balls felt so close to bursting he was surprised they didn’t.

Kane gritted his teeth, those keen eyes narrowing. “You’re trying to control–”
Rowan cut him off. “I’m trying to give you what you want.”
The words hung for a beat in the air. Even their hearts stood still. The only sound in the world

was the sharp intake of Elijah’s breath.

“Suck me off, and I’ll say anything you want,” Kane said.
Yeah, that sounded like the assassin Rowan knew.
He obliged. Lips squeezed over the head, tongue dancing around the shaft, just the way Elijah

did to him. Rowan would never forget a blowjob like that.

Elijah’s hips bucked into the pleasure. “Fuck! Rowan,” he breathed.
The alpha sucked harder. Faster. The need for his own release clawed alongside the pleasure he

gave Elijah. Those words only drove him closer to the edge.

He never cared if women even knew his name, and none of his conquests knew his real name to

begin with. But Elijah was different from anyone he’d ever met.

Beautiful. Infuriating. Deadly.
And the alpha couldn’t get enough of him.
Another sweep of his tongue, and Elijah’s body stiffened. The hot come spurted out, thick and

sweet, into Rowan’s hungry mouth. Pleasure thundered through his body. That tight knot of fury and
unease and every other emotion he’d bottled since the moment he laid eyes on Kane, seeped free.

He moaned and leaned back, swiping his hand over his lips. Rowan nearly tumbled to the

bathroom floor, chest heaving. The nerves in his body sang, and a great weight lifted from his
shoulders. For once, he couldn’t tell the difference between his heartbeat and Elijah’s. That’s what

Yue did to them, and Rowan no longer hated her for it.

He couldn’t.
Even if it put him – both of them – in a shitload of trouble.
That’s all Elijah really was. Trouble. Yet Rowan saw beyond the cocky bastard on the surface to

what was underneath. Someone small and hesitant. Someone who reminded him of the alpha scion
who ran from the hunters that night.

No. Not him.
Elijah was probably stronger than Rowan had ever been. He didn’t know how to drop his guard.

And Rowan didn’t know how to be the alpha he was born to be.

Always taking orders. Always controlling the beast like it was something foreign. Something

that didn’t really belong to him. That was never the case.

He was the alpha.
They shared the same needs and desires. And they both desired Elijah Kane. They both needed

the omega.

Rowan balled his hands into fists and released them slowly. Then he looked at the man who was

his mate.

Sweat beaded on Kane’s pale brow, the dark hair plastered to it. His unnerving eyes drooped,

and a satisfied smile curled over his lips. “Tell me you’re not gay now.”

Funny how the one wolf who could calm him also served to infuriate him. Only Kane’s words

did no such thing this time. In the past, the alpha would’ve bristled under the surface. Rowan would’ve
been quick to deny it or change the subject.

Now he simply shrugged and stood up. “I guess I am.”
Blaming it on Yue was something a pup would do, and Rowan was a fully grown man.
An alpha, for Ashina’s sake!
He needed to start acting like it.
Elijah raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t make another sarcastic remark.
Rowan leaned forward and kissed Elijah’s forehead. The omega’s scent nearly drowned him, and

he took a deep breath through his nose. “Can you stand? We need to get out of here before the hunters
find us.”

Elijah scowled, his momentary vulnerability closing up like the door of a volt. “Let me get the

sewing kit.”

Rowan waited in the bathroom, leaning against the counter, and nodded when Elijah returned.

Strange how he’d let this deadly assassin near him with a needle when just over a month ago he
wouldn’t have dared.

Hell, Elijah probably knew countless ways to kill people with insignificant weapons like that.
The last couple of days had to mean something. Not to mention, the tightness in his chest and

stomach – that meant Elijah felt it too. They were both softening toward each other, even if they didn’t
want to say it out loud. In truth, they didn’t need to.

Elijah disinfected the needle with a little alcohol and dabbed the wound. He pierced Rowan’s

skin with tiny stitches that hurt less than the alpha imagined they would. Only once did the needle go
too deep, drawing blood, and Rowan flinched.

“It hurts me just as badly as it hurts you. Good thing Walter taught me well,” Elijah said, almost

absently, as he wiped the bright red drop away. His tongue poked through his teeth as he worked, a
look of concentration so great Rowan almost smiled.

Walter. His teacher. Elijah thought Rowan was pumping him for information, and he should’ve

been. He didn’t care about his mission anymore.

“No last name?” Rowan asked.

“Walter Jones. Good luck finding him. But I can tell you what I know. He was an omega, like

me and Si. His pack kicked him out as a pup and he got into our line of work,” Elijah said and pursed
his lips like he was sucking on a lemon.

Rowan brushed a stray piece of hair from Elijah’s eyes. “How did you meet?”
Elijah smiled, that honest smile he rarely got. It sent a little jolt through Rowan’s chest, and he

frowned at himself. The damn omega had to feel that.

“We were homeless and living in New York City. He was on a job and stumbled across us on the

street. Can’t say why he took us in, Walter was never forthcoming about it. The only thing he ever told
me was that my eyes screamed at him. It was Si who looked capable of doing everything right. The
protégé. He thought I’d get myself killed because of arrogance and anger. He was obviously wrong.”

“He had the arrogance part right,” Rowan muttered and straightened as Elijah tied off the thread

and bandaged the wound.

“What? You don’t think I’m angry?” Elijah asked, his smile slipping into a dangerous smirk.
For the first time, Rowan sensed the omega inside Elijah. The way it sat, calmly detached, and

waited. It didn’t pace and howl like his alpha, but the same hate burned in its eyes. The same pain.
They handled it very differently. How come he never noticed it before? Was that the reason the alpha
was roused by Elijah?

“No. You’re just as angry as I am,” Rowan said. “And you have every right to be.”
Elijah stared at him. The smile no longer graced his lips. His control of the situation slipped.

That was obviously something the omega didn’t know how to handle.

Sure, he was good at improvisation. Elijah knew how to act on his feet in a life or death

situation, but he didn’t know how to deal with other wolves.

Yeah, they were very much alike in that respect.
“I’m only angry when someone sets me off,” Elijah said. His fingers fiddled with the extra

length of bandage.

Rowan grabbed his hand. “You’re good at hiding it. But you can’t hide anything from me. Not

now. Doesn’t mean you’re not the best assassin I’ve ever seen.”

His fingers tightened in Rowan’s grasp, gripping onto that strong hand. Elijah looked like he was

about to say something when Rowan heard the crunch of a boot on the snow. Inside the cabin it was
difficult to tell how far off it was, but the sound was unmistakable.

Someone found them. And that meant one thing.
“Hunters,” Elijah said, whatever retort he had died with the moment.
Rowan glowered. The hunters arrived more quickly than he anticipated. If they were surrounded,

they’d never be able to survive. He glanced at Elijah’s wet clothes and felt a pang of regret that they
hadn’t set them near the fire to dry.

Another crunch and a click.
The rustle of branches.
Rowan glanced at Elijah.
He knew how this worked. The hunters wouldn’t wait for them to leave. The wolf’s bane would

come first, filling the air and choking them out. Then silver bullets would riddle their bodies. The
hunters wouldn’t stop until they were both dead.

And if they didn’t want to die, they needed to run.
Now.
Grimacing, Rowan moved from the bathroom and glanced around the cabin. It never felt as

much like a cage as it did now. No significant weapons. No place to hide in ambush.

Before the hunters smoked them out, they needed a plan. All the exits would be covered. If they

ran out now, they’d get gunned down in a hail of bullets. They needed a distraction. Something to

shield their escape.

“We’re leaving,” Rowan growled and glanced at the fire.
Elijah clenched his jaw. “They could kill us.”
Rowan knew which ‘they’ he meant. Not the hunters – the other shifters. Throwing away

everything they knew for the chance at escape wasn’t his idea of a good time either, but they didn’t
have a choice!

The scent of silver and humans put the alpha on edge. It scratched and howled, begging to rip

and tear. Taste the freshly spilled blood of the humans who dared think they could overpower a wolf.

Only the alpha was too damn confident. Humans could overpower wolves in numbers. It

happened all the time.

And Rowan had more important things to worry about than his own useless vengeance. Elijah’s

life was worth more than that. His life was worth more than that too.

“We’re not going to die here,” Rowan growled. The fire in the hearth roared.
Smoke. That would be a good distraction. The hunters wanted to smoke them out with wolf’s

bane. No way in hell they’d imagined their prey would set fire to their own shelter first.

Elijah stalked after him.
Rowan glanced around wildly for the things that would make the most smoke. Then he placed

one of the kindling sticks in the fire and let it catch. He took it to the couch and held it against the
fabric. It smoldered for a few seconds, and Rowan frowned.

Come on!
Why wouldn’t it burn?
Then fire crackled over the floral surface, and the material bent and melted with it before the

stuffing caught. In a great hot wave, it burst into flames. Black billows of smoke filled the room.

Elijah stared at it with wide eyes, but Rowan didn’t have to explain. The omega understood. He

grabbed his own kindling and moved toward the bed. A look of momentary regret crossed his face
before he lit the fuzzy blanket.

Smoke choked the cabin, filling the air with great clouds. The flames roared and jumped from

the couch to the coffee table and the bed to the dresser, eating what it could.

Rowan picked up a chair and crashed it through one of the windows. They needed to give the

hunters too many options and slip out the one they’d least suspect.

Kane held a cloth to his mouth and shattered the kitchen window before moving to the

bathroom.

They both had the same idea.
Suddenly, the sharp sting of wolf’s bane filled Rowan’s nose and mouth. Bile rose in his throat.

He leaned over, fighting the urge to retch. That was just the beginning. First it’d make them sick, then
the scent would distort their senses until they passed out.

No! He was not going to let that happen!
Kane stumbled out of the bathroom, eyes watering, and Rowan grabbed him. He shoved the

omega toward the attic door – it was their only chance of escape. Hopefully, the smoke wouldn’t kill
them first.

Elijah didn’t argue. His heart pounded as he scrambled into the crawl space and made room for

Rowan. The alpha hardly fit. The roof pressed down on their heads, and the smoke hung around it,
thick and choking.

Shouts rang out below. All pretense of secrecy was lost once the hunters realized the damn cabin

was on fire. That’s what Rowan had in mind.

Another wave of wolf’s bane rolled up with the smoke, and they both coughed. They had to get

out and without the hunters seeing them.

It’s the only chance they had.
Elijah’s shoulders raked with the smoke, and Rowan kicked a vent from the side of the roof. It

didn’t have the effect he hoped. The cold, fresh air didn’t rush in to clear their heads. But the smoke
and fumes of wolf’s bane rose to rush past them.

He held Elijah’s shoulders and waited a beat.
No hunter’s fired at the vent.
There was too much smoke from them to see.
Squinting, he peered into the darkness, but caught no glimpse of humans hidden there. Then he

grabbed Elijah’s hand, and the omega squeezed. His eyes shone bright and wide.

Rowan set his lips into a line and let go of Elijah’s hand.
The omega leapt from the attic, shifting into a wolf as he jumped.
Rowan followed.
Someone shouted as soon as Elijah tumbled to the ground, his form lost for a moment in the

thigh-high snow. Rowan rolled next to him and felt the brush of a silver arrow narrowly miss his left
ear.

Too close.
They didn’t have as much cover as he hoped. Now all they had was speed and a destination the

hunters wouldn’t dare enter.

To his surprise, Elijah didn’t disappear into the trees. He crawled to his feet, his dark fur stark in

the whiteness, even with night falling over them, and waited.

Rowan nudged him with a great snout, and they ran.
Silver bullets and bolts lodged in trees around them.
Even if wolves were faster than humans, the snow hampered their progress. It made it

impossible to run quickly. Every step felt like molasses holding them back.

At least the hunters had as much trouble as they did.
They dodged into the darkness of the deep woods, and Rowan counted every agonizing step. The

sensation of the barrier grew stronger. The foreign musk of other shifters filled the air. The power
radiating from the land tingled under their feet. Once they crossed the line, there was no going back.

Elijah skidded to a stop, staring into the towering firs that marked the way, thinly spaced. The

forest thickened just beyond the border, but that’s not how they knew it was there. They could feel the
magic coming off it like static on an electric fence.

He glanced up at Rowan, his blue gray eyes wide and pleading. His heart pounded, and at once

the alpha knew what the omega feared: Returning to his old life. The pain and weakness he felt at the
hands of his old pack.

Elijah would never say that out loud, but he didn’t need to. The same swell of emotions filled

Rowan’s breast, and he almost whimpered at the agony behind them.

The bright yellow beam of a flashlight swooped too close for comfort. The hunters needed it to

know when the human border met the shifter border. Without it, they might wander inside and meet an
unpleasant fate. Too bad they were smart enough not to. It’d make Rowan’s life that much easier.

Boots trudged closer, the scent of wolf’s bane nearly overpowering now.
The alpha growled, low and deep. Hunters being hunted – the irony did not sit well with him.

But they were surrounded and outnumbered. He turned his great head to Elijah and stepped forward.

Then a shot rang through the air, and they both fled into the unknown territory and whatever lay

beyond.

Magic rose across their fur as they leapt inside, and they slipped through it like jumping into a

swimming pool. Silence hung in the air like a viable thing, heavy and draped over every branch. It
bunched on the ground with the snow. Rowan held his breath for a long moment, sure a pack of

shifters, the ones who ran this territory, would bound out of the trees and attack at any moment.

Nothing happened.
Elijah whimpered and scratched his ear.
Rowan knew how he felt. Now that they stood here, weariness yanked at him. The cold and wet

worked under his fur, the familiar chill raking over his bones. The same chill that hot bath chased
away, came back with a vengeance now.

It’s not like this semblance of safety was anything of the sort. Far from it. Die at the hands of

hunters or take their chances with strange shifters.

It was the only real choice, Rowan told himself and trudged forward.
Elijah stepped behind him.
Rowan’s fur pricked with every step. His hackles rose as he forced his senses to sharpen in this

unfamiliar world. It’d been over fifteen years since he stepped foot in Old One territory. Over fifteen
years of letting the human world dull him to his own kind. Letting the alpha stifle in his cage while he
tried to be human. Tried to deny the very part of himself that he needed now.

It hadn’t worked. And it got him in this situation.
The alpha bristled in response to the magic in the ground. Ready for a fight they sure as hell

couldn’t win. Even if Elijah didn’t say anything, Rowan felt the ache in his back. It would take longer
than a few days to heal a wound that severe. Hell, it took a month to heal the first bullet wound, and
they didn’t have that kind of time now.

They didn’t have any time.
Elijah’s footsteps slowed with every step.
Rowan slowed with him.
They needed shelter. Unlike the human side of the forest, the fir trees brushed the ground here,

piled with snow. The branches made a kind of tent at the base of the larger trees. If they curled inside
it, they could rest for a time.

Until the Old Ones sensed them and sent someone to haul them away.
In Montana, their Old Ones weren’t as vigilant, but then humans and shifters were on better

terms. Only that didn’t work out too well for us, Rowan thought bitterly. Maybe if their Old One had
cared enough to stop the hunters his pack would still be alive. And he may have stayed in Montana for
the rest of his life and never met the man who slumped beside him now.

If he was supposed to have faith in Yue’s fate for him, it was difficult to see it. All she gave him

was pain and a fleeting glimpse of what happiness could be. Maybe she was mirroring her own
heartbreaking relationship with Ashina, separated by a great distance, yet tied to each other for all
time.

Rowan hoped not.
Shifter myths claimed Ashina still roamed, walking in shifter territory as a great black wolf. It’s

why all his children were compelled to turn at the full moon, when Yue’s light was strongest. It’s why
they wanted to sing her praise.

But shifters also said that if Ashina and Yue ever reunited, the world as they knew it would end.

Crumble and break to pieces, the way magic couldn’t hold up in land that wasn’t controlled by the Old
Ones themselves.

Rowan didn’t want that kind of love, not with anyone.
Every step sent a new stab of pain to his back, and he wondered how Elijah kept it up without

making a sound. Then he remembered the omega’s story, and his blood froze. Elijah’s father, an alpha,
broke every bone in his son’s body. No wonder Elijah turned out the way he did.

No wonder he told that poor Czech girl he’d had worse. Rowan knew Elijah had. He saw it in

Elijah’s eyes. Felt it in the fear coursing through his veins. And there wasn’t anything he could do to

quell that fear now.

But Rowan could do something else.
He nudged Elijah under one of the fir trees, and the omega went without so much as a whine.

Rowan curled on the snow with Elijah next to him, and he laid his great head on the smaller wolf in an
effort to keep him warm.

Soon, the weariness overtook him, and Elijah’s breathing fell deep and steady. At least one of

them could sleep.

Rowan kept his eyes sharp and waited.

Chapter Twelve

Voices rumbled through the air, and Elijah squeezed his eyes shut. For one terrible moment, he

thought he was back at Lake Desolation and the voices belonged to his father and his former pack
mates.

Si?
No!
A low growl rumbled next to him, and he shook the thought away.
Right. That happened a long time ago. Every guilty party was dead. They were in a whole new

world of danger now. Even with Rowan’s warmth, and the protective nature of that warning growl,
nothing would make Elijah feel safe until they were miles away from the Butcher and this damn
territory.

It’s not that he blamed Rowan for their escape; he would’ve done the same thing had he been on

his own. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Elijah opened his eyes.
The thick branches of a fir tree shielded them, but a woman stood at the opening of their shelter.

Her long white cloak blended with the snow, but it was tattered and dirty at the edges. It covered
whatever she wore beneath. Her eyes were the same color as ice, and for a startling moment, they
reminded Elijah of his own.

Rowan growled again, but the woman didn’t heed his warning. She didn’t need to. She was more

powerful than both of them combined.

A chill ran up his spine, and it had nothing to do with the weather. He never knew Old Ones took

human shape. The Old Ones at Lake Desolation kept the form of great bears at all times and never
spoke. Elijah only caught glimpses of them when he was a boy – those huge lumbering shapes that
came down to the water for a drink in the evenings.

They never did anything to help his pack or to stop his father. And they didn’t seek revenge for

what Elijah and Simeon did to him either.

But this one was different. She looked almost human, only her skin and features were too

unnaturally perfect. Her hair was as white as her cloak and as tattered and dirty at the ends. The power
that radiated off of her sizzled across his skin like a viable thing. The pain in his back eased, and the
ghost of Rowan’s new injury fell away into nothing.

Did she heal them?
She regarded them in a way that made the cold air hanging around Elijah’s fur feel like a

summer’s day. Even worse, they couldn’t shift into humans and speak to her without freezing to death.
Or, at least, freezing something very important.

If this is what their daring escape got them, he wondered now if it was worth it. Elijah wished

she’d get whatever she was going to do over with.

“Yue’s brood,” she said, and her voice sounded like the wind between the trees. “Ashina’s blood

flows strong in you.”

The wolf blood? Well, obviously.
Rowan climbed to his feet, but he didn’t growl again. He probably realized how useless it would

be. Plus, pissing off an Old One wasn’t the best idea.

“They come,” she said and her eyes lost focus, as if she was seeing something at a distance.
The hair on Elijah’s back stood up.

Then the woman faded into the trees and snow, though he never heard a footfall. One moment

she stood before them, the next was as if she wasn’t there at all. Like she melted into the land, and
maybe she did. Old One’s magic was a mystery.

He would’ve looked for evidence of her in the snow, but Rowan growled as the scent of other

shifters filled the air.

Other wolves.
The strange musk stung Elijah’s nose, and he struggled to his feet and crouched next to Rowan.

Hopefully the alpha didn’t plan on fighting these wolves head on. They needed to assess the situation
and escape – not get themselves killed because of a rash decision.

The clomp of boots and paws surrounded them. Elijah heard at least eight other heartbeats

outside their shelter. And whoever was there saw no need to sneak around. Which meant these wolves
knew they had the advantage.

Giving in wasn’t easy, but they didn’t have a choice.
Again.
He was getting tired of that bullshit.
Elijah took a deep breath through his snout and did something most omegas would never dream.

He slunk out first and blinked at the wolves waiting for them. From the scent that tinged the air, Elijah
could tell they were all part of the same pack.

Only three were in their animal forms. The other five stood as humans, three men and two

women. They were bundled under cloaks and furs, and looked like they’d stepped out of a medieval
film set. They all held weapons of some sort, from spears to swords.

He almost snorted at how ridiculous it was. These shifters couldn’t at least get rifles?
Rowan crawled out after him.
“Move,” one of the men said. They could understand these foreign shifters because that’s how

the Old One’s magic worked. All shifters spoke the same language inside Old One territory, no matter
what language they spoke on the outside.

It felt a lot like cheating to Elijah. Walter made them study so many different human languages

his head felt ready to explode. Sure, he thanked his trainer for it now, but at the time it was a pain in
the ass. And now all of that went up in smoke due to incomprehensible magic.

Rowan’s dark eyes narrowed, and he stood proud and tall in the midst of those strange wolves.

Then he stepped forward, as if it was his idea and not a direct order. Elijah walked next to him, trying
to keep his head held high, his demeanor uninterested and not scared.

But he knew the truth.
These shifters would smell the omega on him. There was no way he could take them all out on

his own. Plus, fighting them would get him in serious trouble.

The omega whined at him, urging him to give up and run away like he did before. Reminding

him of all the pain and humiliation that went with his station – and how being thrust back into it now
was worse than the Butcher learning he was nearby.

Maybe just as bad, actually.
Then Rowan brushed against him and calmness seeped into Elijah’s bones.
Elijah silently thanked him.
They walked long enough that every terrible thought of what might happen floated through

Elijah’s mind twice. He even plotted seven escape attempts, each more dangerous than the last.

Finally, he grew bored enough to study his captors.
The wolves were a standard brownish gray and large, though not large enough to be alphas. The

women were both blonde, with their hair plaited under their hoods. Like most shifters, they were
attractive with blue eyes, full mouths and thin, straight noses. Elijah was only interested in the

weapons they carried, however.

One woman held a spear while the other sported a short sword. She held it like she knew how to

use it, and for the first time since the hiccup at Banik’s castle, he wished he had his own weapons.
Sure, he could use a knife, but Walter forgot to teach him swordplay.

Next, Elijah glanced at the men.
One of them had his hair shorn to his scalp, the stubble on his head dark. He held a bow and had

a scar on his chin. When he caught Elijah looking at him, he sneered.

Typical for a mid-ranked wolf.
The other two men kept to the front, making it difficult to see them unless they turned. One had

brown hair that brushed his shoulders. His sword was the longest, so Elijah decided he was the leader.
The other man was shorter and held a spear, and his hair was blonde, like the women. Maybe they
were all related.

It’s not like he could ask.
The wolves never spoke, but they obviously knew where they were going. They trudged forward

on a path only they could see.

Finally, as evening fell, the thick forest gave way to signs of life. The trees thinned and smoke

curled through the air. He caught the hint of what passed for civilization in Old One territory, the
sharp tang of a blacksmith’s forge and the overwhelming reek of farm animals.

Lovely. Just what he missed about these places.
They rounded a bend in the path and overlooked a small valley. A village spread below them,

filled with thatched roofed houses and snow filled yards.

Elijah stared at the castle on the hill. It wasn’t broken or in disrepair like Banik’s castle. This

one stood, proud and strong, with banners flying on every parapet. The cold wind whipped them into
the air, and Elijah was glad for the break in the weather or he’d never be able to see what they held – a
black crescent moon.

No doubt, that’s where they were going.
His breath clogged his throat.
Was this Yue’s revenge for locking Rowan in a dungeon? Elijah hoped not. He doubted this

dungeon’s shackles were rusted at all.

For the first time since they started, Rowan stiffened and bared his fangs.
Elijah knew just how he felt.
Their captors didn’t share the same apprehension about the destination. They stepped forward,

pointing the business end of their weapons at Rowan and Elijah until they moved. At least they kept an
easy pace through the town, but that didn’t make the looming castle any less of a threat.

No one worked in the village, though eyes peered out of windows laden with thick, uneven glass.

Elijah caught the hint of human on the air, and his blood froze. Were they slaves or here willingly?

He knew some humans lived in Old One territory in America, mostly strange anachronistic folk

who wanted to stay off the grid. He didn’t understand anyone like that – give him a cell phone and a
refrigerator any day of the week.

His heart raced as they climbed the hill to the castle. Even with Rowan beside him, he couldn’t

help the fear that coursed through his veins. He dragged his feet with every step.

Another alpha. An alpha with a fucking castle – talk about egotistical.
And egotistical alphas were the worst.
At least the drawbridge was already lowered. That probably meant they were generally peaceful,

though they did have all those very sharp weapons. So, maybe not as peaceful as Elijah wished.

Years of training seemed to seep out of his body as the tension bunched in his muscles. Walter

never prepared him for this. In fact, his only advice on the subject was never to return to Old One

territory, if he could help it.

Elijah could deal with humans. Humans were weak, unless they were hunters in great numbers.
Wolves were another matter entirely.
Deep in his heart, he wanted to blame someone else for this situation, but when it came down to

it, this was all his fault. He taunted Rowan. Captured him. Then saved him, only to get trapped in the
woods.

Now this.
Rowan should hate him, yet the alpha didn’t. And the emotions swelling through Rowan’s body

at the moment held nothing negative for Elijah, no matter how much he deserved it.

He almost preferred hate. Now he had someone to let down. Someone to fuck over. Someone’s

whose loss would weigh on him stronger than any other.

Ice clicked under his frozen paws as they entered the courtyard. It was larger than it looked from

a distance and just as clotted with snow. A great oak door barred their way into the castle, and the man
with the shaved head hauled it open with a powerful tug.

Warmth and the welcoming scent of food flooded out, but Elijah was not about to get his hopes

up. Hell, it was all he could do not to put his tail between his legs. No way he’d give any other wolf
the opportunity to see him that pathetic ever again.

Not even if said wolf lived in a fucking castle!
As soon as they stepped inside, the two women and two of the wolves ushered Elijah down a

hallway, in the opposite direction as Rowan. He turned his snout to resist, and was met with the sharp
tip of a spear.

Rowan growled at their captors, and the leader sighed. He smelled like a beta – though the blond

man with a spear had the same scent. Maybe this kingdom had more than one beta wolf. “You need to
dress before you meet the king.”

At least they wouldn’t have to meet the king naked! Elijah thought wildly, but it still didn’t make

him feel better. He frowned and let the wolf form fall away. “And why can’t we dress together?”
Elijah asked, squaring his shoulder and looking straight at the leader.

He stared at Elijah. At least this wolf hadn’t hit him for talking out of turn or questioning his

‘betters.’ The leader glanced at Rowan, then back at Elijah. “The king insisted.”

Rowan’s huge wolf form melted away, and the man stood there, tall and proud. He was larger

than any of the other wolves in the hall. His auburn hair caught the torchlight and burned, fire bright.
“I’m not leaving him.”

The man with the shaved head snorted, but the leader threw him a quelling glance. “As an

intruder in this land, you’ll do what those with a sword bid. No harm will come to you or your mate
lest you attack first.”

The heat rose to Elijah’s cheeks. Trusting strange wolves wasn’t part of his repertoire, but the

leader wasn’t lying, at least at the moment.

Rowan gritted his jaw, his lips thinning into a line. His heart thumped faster. “If anyone hurts

him, I’ll know about it, and I’ll fix it on my own.”

The words felt like a great rush of warmth, seeping through Elijah’s body and easing his fears.

He knew, without a moment’s hesitation, that Rowan meant it.

One of the women nudged him forward, and Elijah craned his neck to glance at Rowan. The

alpha’s dark eyes burned with a fury he’d never seen, even when the man was chained in the dungeon.

A moment later, they rounded a corner. The castle’s drafty air sent a wave of goose bumps over

Elijah’s skin and the truth sunk in.

They were alone.
Separated.

At the hands of an unknown alpha.
The thread around their hearts stretched and pulled the farther apart they went.
Maybe they should’ve taken their chances with the hunters.
Elijah shivered as they trudged down the chilly hall. The women led him up a flight of flagstone

steps and down another hallway. He kept an eye on the turns, counting the number of doors. The castle
walls were mostly bare, though a few tapestries hung in certain places, threadbare and worn. The floor
was unadorned, and the small, deep set windows had thick pieces of glass in them.

Old One territory in America was much different. Most of the buildings were wood or brick, and

looked like the Old West instead of something out of a Medieval theme park.

They ushered him into a room. One wolf followed, but the women and second wolf stayed on the

outside. Then they bolted the door shut. The sound echoed through the halls with a finality that made
him twitch.

“This feels more like prison and less like meeting the king,” Elijah said, keeping his eye on the

wolf in the room.

“Bathe and dress. The king will see you when you’re finished,” one of the women said through

the door. “Be grateful you’re not in the dungeon, omega.”

He bristled at her calling out his rank, even if she was correct. The dungeon would’ve held up to

his expectations. This threw him off, which was much worse.

Elijah glanced around the room. It was plainly decorated with a bath in the corner. A brazier

kept the chill off. He noticed a pair of clothes set over a chair – not clothes Elijah ever imagined
wearing outside of doing a job at a Renaissance Faire.

He scowled at them, then moved toward the bath. It looked enough like a tub, though it was

copper instead of porcelain. A pump emptied into it, and he frowned at the idea of using it. That water
would be fucking freezing!

“It comes out hot,” the wolf said, his voice almost bored.
Elijah spun on his heels. He hadn’t noticed the guard shift. Damn. He needed to keep his guard

up.

A man with carelessly messy brown hair stood before the door, his arms crossed over his nude

chest. A scar ran the length of his right cheek, narrowly missing his eye, and made that side of his face
sag. He grinned a lopsided grin, showing the tips of his fangs.

Suddenly, Elijah wasn’t keen on being naked. “Show me,” he said and stepped away from the

tub.

“I don’t take orders from omegas. Pump it yourself and find out.”
He’d have to turn his back to do that and. . . fuck!
Elijah took a deep breath and grabbed the pump’s handle. It was similar to the one they had

when he was a kid.

As soon as the first splash of water landed in the tub, he felt the heat. His brow furrowed, and he

pumped it again. After a few more minutes, the tub was about one-third of the way full. Elijah felt the
water. It singed his finger, but it was the right temperature to defrost his body.

The scarred wolf laughed. “Didn’t believe me, did you? We aren’t as backwards as most

outsiders think.”

“Hot water doesn’t mean you aren’t backwards,” Elijah said and stepped into the tub. He kept

his eyes on the other wolf, who leaned against the door casually and shrugged.

He obviously didn’t think one measly omega was a threat. If this were a different situation,

Elijah would want to prove him wrong. Hell, he still wanted to prove this scarred bastard wrong, but
he wasn’t about to do it here.

Elijah picked up a bar of handmade soap and scrubbed. It smelled strongly of herbs, not

unpleasant, but he wasn’t about to try it on his hair. Steam rose around him, reminding him of the last
bath he took, less than twenty four hours earlier. Rowan’s hot lips and smoldering eyes. The insistence
that Elijah come first – then again. His skin heated with the memory.

It felt like a lifetime ago.
“Why’d you flee into our backwards territory if it offends you so much?” the wolf asked,

shaking the thoughts from Elijah’s head.

“I don’t have to answer your questions,” Elijah said and splashed water on his face.
The wolf scratched his scar. “No, but if you’re forthcoming with me, the king might look on you

more favorably.”

Elijah wasn’t sure he cared how the king looked on him at this point, and his stomach churned at

the thought. They could force him to work here. Force him into their pack, saddle him as an omega
and never let him leave.

No! He wouldn’t let that happen.
Even Rowan wouldn’t let that happen, right? He said so, but those were just words. He tried to

leave Elijah once. Who said he wouldn’t do it again?

Deep breath.
Keep calm. Cool.
He needed to pull it together and do what Walter taught him to do in unfamiliar situations –

gather as much information as he could.

“Fine. What’s your name?” Elijah asked and forced a smile.
“Cosmos,” the wolf said, amicably enough, but that wasn’t going to fool Elijah. He was still a

prisoner and still at a disadvantage.

Once the water warmed him, Elijah climbed out of the bath and dried with a thin linen towel. He

hated them as a kid, but they dried quickly and were easier to wash than cotton. Fabric softener didn’t
exist here. Maybe the Old Ones preferred stiff clothing.

Though, Elijah doubted the Old Ones cared about laundry at all.
He sauntered across the room, his back straight, and picked up the clothes. A large shirt lay on

top, so long it hung to his mid thigh. It didn’t have any decoration on it, but the stitching was good and
the material thick linen. Well-made. He scowled and slipped it over his head. The sleeves tied at the
wrists, and the laces hung open at his chest. He left them untied at the moment and worked on the
pants. They were leather and snug, and they probably hugged his ass like a dream. Too bad there
wasn’t a mirror in the room so he could check himself out. The way Cosmos sized Elijah up told him
enough.

Elijah laced the front of the pants and pretended he didn’t notice.
Lastly came a belt. Elijah slung it low around his waist, and slipped on the thick woolen socks

and short leather boots last. They fit well, and they were warmer than they looked.

Rowan would probably looked gorgeous in this getup, but Elijah felt silly. Like he was dressed

up for a play, and he hadn’t studied his lines. To combat his growing unease, he put his hands on his
hips and stared at Cosmos. “Do I get to eat before I meet the king?”

The wolf smirked, but he didn’t answer. He knocked on the door once, a sharp tap, and the bolt

slid open. Cosmos shifted back into his wolf form. One of the blonde women motioned for Elijah to
follow.

He did, heart pounding, and focused on the hope that Rowan would be with the king and they’d

both get out of here soon. They led him down another set of corridors. The tug on his chest lessened.
That meant Rowan was close and unharmed.

Relief flooded his bones.
They neared another great door. Guards stood on either side, though Elijah could tell by the

scent that these guards were not wolves. No. They were a different kind of shifter – birds of prey –
though he couldn’t put his finger on what kind. Neither guard glanced at him as the woman led him
past it.

Elijah’s head whipped around, and he bit back the question he wanted to ask. He was sure that’s

where she was taking him. He felt Rowan’s presence in that room. The sensation yanked at him.

Where the hell were they going now?
“Are we going to the king?” he asked, adding just the right amount of annoyance to his voice.
The woman didn’t react to it. “Yes.”
Elijah scowled at the back of her fair head.
They stopped in front of a set of double doors that looked like every other door down that

hallway. No guards stood there, and she knocked twice in quick succession before announcing his
arrival. “The omega, my king.”

“Send him in,” a man’s voice rumbled from the other side. It was deep but younger than Elijah

expected. Damn. If the king wasn’t an old, feeble man, he might be a large and overly capable alpha.
That made everything worse.

The man’s intonation roused his memories, but that couldn’t be possible. Elijah hardly knew any

other wolves in Europe, not since he first started his job as an assassin. And that wolf, that alpha, was
long dead.

The woman’s face was neutral as she opened one of the doors and pushed Elijah inside. He

almost tripped on the flagstones and glowered at her right as the door slammed in his face.

Then the scent hit him, a familiar scent that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Elijah could never forget that smell – never forget that wolf. It’s the only death he regretted.

Yue really did hate omegas if she put him at this alpha’s mercy.
“Elijah Kane,” the king said. “I never expected to see you again.”
Elijah turned slowly and plastered a pleasant smile on his face. His heart felt ready to jump out

of his chest, and he wondered if Rowan would be able to feel him die. Absently, he hoped not.
Whatever the king had in store wouldn’t be pretty.

“Maxim! You’re still alive? The Butcher isn’t going to be happy about that,” Elijah said,

amazed his voice didn’t tremble.

Maxim smiled.

Chapter Thirteen

Rowan balled his hands into fists. The alpha snarled. He needed to keep his head. Think. That’s

the only way they’d get out of this mess.

“I’m going to tell Max they’re here,” the leader said and broke away at the first corner.
Rowan watched the leader go. Then he took a deep breath and walked after the mid-ranked wolf.
Now that Rowan was finally coming to peace with his animal side, they had to be captured by a

strange shifter pack. Was Yue testing them? Well, she could shove the test up her ass, because Rowan
wasn’t going to play a part in it.

They took him to a small bathroom. The other wolves stayed outside the door while the bald

wolf pumped hot water into a copper tub without a word of complaint.

Rowan stared. That’s something Elijah would never do.
Rowan washed with the herb-scented soap and dried quickly. A brazier stood in the corner,

filling the room with serviceable warmth. It was better than standing nude in the frozen air.

A set of local clothes sat on a wooden chair, and he studied them as he dressed. The shirt

reminded Rowan of what he wore to bed as a boy, only his nightshirts had buttons instead of laces. At
least it was warmer than being nude in a drafty castle, no matter how snug the leather pants were.

Absently, he imagined how good Elijah would look in them and shook the thought from his

mind. He needed to focus on getting them out of here before this king got any ideas. Ideas about
keeping a mouthy omega as a slave or chaining them both in the dungeon.

Rowan had spent enough time in castle dungeons lately, and now he was trying to save the man

who put him there. The hate that sizzled under the surface dissipated a long time ago. Even if he tried
to remind himself Elijah was dangerous. The roots in his heart told him differently. And the alpha
bristling under his skin wouldn’t allow him to do anything less.

Finally Rowan pulled on the leather boots, snug and comfortable, then looked at the guard by the

door. The man nodded. “The king will see you now.”

“I’m ready to see my mate,” Rowan growled, happy his tongue didn’t trip on the last word.
“You’ll have to talk to the king about that,” the wolf said and opened the door.
Rowan planned on it.
The king awaited him in a study. The desk was large and oaken, finely carved with a simple

design gracing each leg.

The guard announced Rowan as ‘the alpha’ and shut the door behind him.
The king scratched something on a piece of paper with a fountain pen, to Rowan’s surprise.

“Another alpha fell into Elijah Kane’s trap, I see,” he said peaceably and let out a breath.

Rowan stared.
This alpha wasn’t his twin, but they looked enough alike that he couldn’t help but notice it. The

king’s hair was a deeper red and hung to his shoulders in loose waves. His good eye was dark brown –
the other was covered in a black eye patch. A ragged scar peeked out of both sides. Rowan wondered
how an alpha got that injury, and if it had something to do with Elijah. The rest of the king’s face was
fair, and the set of his mouth was just as stubborn as Rowan’s own.

No, they weren’t twins, but Elijah definitely had a type.
Only, this man wasn’t Elijah’s mate and Rowan was. Looks had nothing to do with it. Yue bound

them together for a reason, even if Elijah knew this other alpha first.

“Where’s K—Elijah?” Rowan asked, squaring his shoulders. This was a typical enemy tactic.

Divide and conquer. Get one side to doubt the other. He’d seen it before. Hell, he’d used it himself,
and he wasn’t going to fall for it. Nor was he going to let on how at odds he and Elijah usually were.
As far as this alpha knew, he’d already claimed Elijah as his own.

“Safe. I assume he’s enjoying his bath. You were much more eager to see me than he is. What’s

your name?”

He hesitated. “Rowan.” No need to share his last name as well. “And you?”
“Maxim. Did the hunters force you into my territory?”
Rowan nodded stiffly, clenching his jaw. The alpha clawed, begging for a fight. This king was

the only worthy opponent. “We’ll leave if you let us go.” He didn’t mention what he wanted to do if
Maxim said ‘no.’

“I’m sure that’s what Elijah wants. But the weather’s bad, and the borderlands are dangerous,

especially now. Tell me, Rowan, have you heard of a man called the Butcher?” Maxim leaned forward,
elbows on his desk. He wore something similar to the outfit they gave Rowan, only he had a vest over
the top, leather and lined with fur.

He tried to focus on the leather, because that name gave him pause. An involuntary shiver

traveled up his spine. In his line of work, everyone had heard of the Butcher. The man was more of an
enigma than Elijah Kane. The CIA left him alone since he operated in the borderlands, but they
heavily suspected ties with various terrorist groups.

Rowan heard rumors the Butcher alone controlled several countries through his mob ties, maybe

Slovakia among them. The Butcher’s operations bordered this territory. Otherwise, why would this
king be concerned with him?

“I’ve heard of him,” Rowan said slowly. He kept his face neutral and tried to ignore the

undercurrent of emotions that surged through Elijah’s body. The omega wasn’t hurt, but the ever-
present unease grew stronger with each moment. “What does the Butcher have to do with us?”

Maxim smiled. “Are you hungry? There’s food in the hall.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rowan growled and straightened his shoulders.
The smile stayed on Maxim’s lips, though his eyes burned. Rowan sensed the alpha just under

this man’s skin. He never tried to hide it – control it – the way Rowan did. The man shape was a
courtesy to others; his real self was that great hulking wolf. Maxim didn’t even try to stand and show
off his strength.

He didn’t need to.
This king was a man in perfect harmony with his beast. It reminded Rowan of Elijah, and sent a

chill deep into his bones.

“That’s the nature of being a king. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone if I so choose. You

should get something to eat. Your omega will join you soon enough.”

Rowan balled his hands into fists. Starting a fight with a man who could chop off his head was a

terrible idea. But it still crossed his mind. If it weren’t for Elijah’s safety, he might’ve punched
Maxim in the jaw.

“What does the Butcher have to do with us?” Rowan asked again.
Maxim’s dark eyes sparked. “Not you, but it has everything to do with your mate. Let’s just say

the two of them are old friends.”

Rowan turned to the door, hoping to hide the expression creeping over his face. Kane was

friends with the Butcher? Well, they were both crazy. Though Elijah’s reasons made more sense now
than they did before. . . . but the Butcher. . .

No. He may not know the whole truth, but that didn’t mean he was going to believe what some

enemy alpha told him.

Rowan marched out of the room, and the guard walked with him back to the dining hall. He tried

to focus on the room’s layout. Long tables lined each side and a fire roared in a hearth at the far end.
His feet clomped over the cold flagstones, and his stomach sang at the scent of burning meat and
bread.

The room was nearly empty. A few humans scurried back and forth. He assumed they were

servants, but he didn’t ask. They didn’t act abused or worried, only very busy. If they came from the
borderlands, it made sense why this place was better for them.

No matter what Rowan thought of the king, there was no way Maxim was as bad as the Butcher,

or he’d have a reputation to back it up.

Rowan turned toward the food on the sideboard, but his appetite slipped away when he thought

of Elijah.

Maxim was doing this on purpose. Keeping them separated to build tension and distrust between

them. They’d have to figure out a way to talk. Alone. Then plan their escape.

Rowan licked his lips, the memory of Elijah’s hungry mouth flitted through his mind. How did

Maxim and Elijah know one another? Old lovers? Something swelled beside the hunger, and the alpha
howled like he’d stepped on a thorn.

Neither of them were innocents. They both had past conquests. Elijah called him on it often

enough. But jealousy shouldn’t creep into it. Not in this situation.

He stared at the fire and waited.
After what felt like an age, the tug on his chest lessened. Elijah was close. Rowan felt the omega

move by the door and expected it to open. He hoped Elijah’s eyes weren’t as desperate as the last time
he’d seen his mate.

Then the feeling faded, the tug increasing.
Rowan frowned and stood, but the beta wolf and another guard blocked the door. The king

probably wanted to talk to Elijah alone.

No clock ticked on the wall, but it felt like a good twenty minutes before Elijah and Maxim

walked into the room. Elijah stood with his back straight and stiff. Every muscle seemed to tense
when he saw Rowan and those usually sharp eyes were wide and fragile as glass.

Rowan only saw that look once before on Elijah’s face. When Kane killed Banik, he had the

same panic stricken expression.

The omega’s heart slammed.
The roots on Rowan’s chest twisted around each other and squeezed until he could hardly

breathe.

What the hell had Maxim done to make Elijah relive that now?
He took a deep breath, and promised the alpha that it’d get plenty of action soon enough. And if

he died taking down Maxim, so be it.

“The feast hasn’t begun? No need to wait on my account,” Maxim said as he strolled into the

room, his steps casual but the force behind each one struck something in Rowan’s chest. Everything
this man did had a purpose. No movement was wasted. “Eat, guests and friends.”

A number of servants spilled from the shadows and placed their platters on the sideboard, filling

it with roasted pig and venison, freshly baked bread and honey churned butter. A few hard vegetables,
like turnips and carrots, were cooked into little pies with gravy.

Everything smelled divine.
The wolves and other shifters in the room gathered plates of food and mugs of ale. At any other

time, with Rowan’s stomach gnawing at him like that, he’d have followed suit. The frown on Elijah’s
face held him still, however.

If an omega didn’t want to eat, something was wrong.
Then Maxim’s strong hand clamped on Rowan’s shoulder, and he glanced at the alpha next to

him. The man was shorter than Rowan by an inch, making him about six feet two. Now that he stood,
Rowan noticed the king’s build was slimmer than his, lengthy and hard under his strange clothes.

“I believe I gave my orders. Join me at the head table for our meal. Elijah, you join us as well,”

Maxim said and inclined his head to the omega.

Rowan wished his body didn’t tense at that touch and those words. He should be able to keep

calm in this situation. He’d have been able to do it before. . . barely. It was all he could do now to nod
stiffly and not throw the king’s hand off his shoulder.

At least Elijah didn’t act like an omega. It’d be ten times worse if he cast his eyes to the ground

and shrunk in on himself.

Not Kane.
He held his head high, his jaw set and glared at Maxim before marching to the sideboard and

gathering a plate of food.

Rowan followed.
It was better than anything they’d had recently, especially with the diminishing supplies at the

cabin.

While they spoke with Maxim, the servants lit more torches, and the room glowed with them.

The king sat at a table on a dais, raised about a foot above the rest of the room. The only other person
who sat near Maxim was the leader of the group who found them.

He frowned as Rowan and Elijah approached.
Rowan doubted that frown was aimed at Maxim. As a beta, he probably didn’t want his alpha

sitting so close to unknown wolves. And, sure enough, the beta tried to place himself between Maxim
and Elijah, but the king waved his hand.

“Please, Kam. I can handle one omega,” Maxim said to the wolf at his side. Then he turned his

eyes to Rowan and Elijah. “This is the captain of the King’s Guard, Kamil. All the beta wolves in this
kingdom are highly ranked in my army.”

That made sense. Rowan smelled multiple beta wolves in the castle. A kingdom of shifters had

to have more than one.

Kamil rose and pulled out the chair for Elijah without a hint of malice.
This put Kane on one side of the king and Rowan on the other.
He scowled. The bastard did that on purpose too. From the way Elijah furrowed his eyebrows,

Rowan could tell the omega thought the same thing.

They ate in silence. The rumble of conversation around the room caught his attention now and

then, but no one spoke of their arrival. They talked about supplies and hunting. Shifters at several
tables whispered about the hunters at their borders and silver traps buried beneath the snow. Some
feared the hunters would cross into the territory again – and their voices hushed when someone
brought up the Old Ones.

Even if Rowan didn’t feel like it, he ate all the food on his plate. It may have been delicious, but

at the moment it tasted like ash. At least Elijah ate as well. They’d both need their strength to survive.
No use starving if they didn’t have to.

Maxim ate neatly but heartily. He finished one mug of the spicy ale, then swiped his mouth on a

linen cloth before he spoke. “Elijah. Why don’t you tell your mate how we met?” he said, his tone
casual as if he were asking about the weather.

Rowan stared at Elijah, and the omega froze mid-bite. He set his fork back on the plate with a

clank.

At least they had forks, Rowan thought wildly as his heart banged against his ribs.
“Rowan, meet Maxim. I met him in Budapest about ten years ago. We fucked, then I abandoned

him to the Butcher’s mercy. I didn’t think he’d escape, but I guess he’s as resourceful as I am,” Elijah

said and smiled pleasantly. Rowan hated that smile. It hid too much hurt and held too much malice. It
was one of Kane’s many masks.

Kamil stared at them, his body tense.
The alpha clawed at Rowan’s chest, and it felt like the wolf inside drew blood.
Then Maxim laughed. The deep rumble carried throughout the room, and the smile on the king’s

face chilled Rowan more than the one Elijah sported. Not because it held empty hatred. No. Maxim
actually looked like he was enjoying himself.

Rowan didn’t like to think what sort of things this king found amusing.
“That’s the abridged version,” Maxim said and took another gulp of his ale. Then he cast a

glance at Elijah and swept his tongue over his full bottom lip.

Rowan could see it in the king’s face. He knew what Elijah’s mouth tasted like. How eager and

generous he was in the bedroom, and they’d shared more than just one night together. The alpha
begged to rip Maxim’s throat out, and for once Rowan agreed with that sentiment. No matter how
unfair.

“Don’t tell me you were in love and I tricked you,” Elijah said, his voice cutting, though his

throat moved like he swallowed a lump in it. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

Maxim’s smile didn’t falter. “Love isn’t a weakness, Elijah. True mates are rare, even in Old

One territory. Though I do admit falling for you was a mistake. I hope another alpha doesn’t repeat it.”

Another alpha. Maxim was talking about Rowan. He glowered at the king. Did they have to have

this conversation in front of his whole pack? But that was probably the point. Maxim had a whole
squad of guards here, loyal to him, and willing to protect him if either Elijah or Rowan attacked.

Unfortunately, Elijah’s expression faltered. His pleasant smile cracked around the edges, and a

look of doubt crossed his eyes. Rowan never knew Elijah doubted anything.

“I left you with the Butcher because I didn’t want to do the job myself,” Elijah grumbled, his

hands trembling slightly where they gripped the edge of the roughly hewn table.

The random talk around the hall ceased, and several eyes fell on them all at once. Even Kamil

sat still at Elijah’s words.

Maxim leaned toward the omega until their noses were inches apart. “The Butcher did what he

could,” the king said and touched the patch on his eye. “You left me because you’re a weak child – a
coward who only cares for yourself. I know you, Elijah.”

Rowan swore he felt his mate shiver. He balled his hands into fists, fighting the urge to rip the

king’s head from his shoulders. That would get them both killed.

“You knew me,” Elijah corrected. “Ten years is a long time. I’ve grown up.”
“So have I,” Maxim said and turned toward Rowan. “But I think some things are still the same.

You never told your mate you used to work for the Butcher. Or how blissfully you slaughtered your
own kind. I’ll let you two discuss it alone, if you’re finished.”

Then the king rose and left the room before Elijah could say another word.
Rowan stared after him. From the stiff set of Maxim’s shoulders, he knew how badly the king’s

alpha wanted to jump free and hurt someone. Probably Elijah.

Rowan couldn’t blame him. He’d felt the same way at one point. And now he wasn’t sure what

to think. He expected Elijah did a number of terrible things in the past – but hunting his own kind?

Rowan’s ears burned, the blood rushing in his veins like a raging river.
Kamil cleared his throat, and Rowan blinked. How long had he been staring into space? “I’ll

show you to a room. As long as you don’t try to escape, his majesty won’t need to do anything
extreme.”

Rowan’s blood ran cold, and he nodded.
Elijah rose and followed without a word.

Kamil led them to a room on the castle’s third floor. It held a large four poster bed, and a fire

roared in the hearth. Several braziers were lit as well, warming the space completely. A garderobe was
tucked into a small room with a sink and pump.

At least they still had running water, Rowan thought absently.
Then the heavy bolt on the outside of the door slid shut and reminded Rowan of their

predicament.

This wasn’t a friendly visit. They were here under duress, and Maxim had a bone to pick with

Elijah Kane. Even worse, it sounded like the king had every right to be angry with the assassin.

“If you need something knock on the door,” Kamil said after he locked them inside.
Rowan stared at the intricate design on the carpet, clenching his jaw. This was part of Maxim’s

plan, and he was falling into it like a damn child. But what else was he supposed to do? Not care that
his mate used to work for the Butcher? Not mind that Kane was not only a skilled assassin, but that he
also hunted his own kind?

But was he any better? Rowan was going to kill Elijah at one point – he threatened it often

enough. Could he have actually done it if pushed?

Finally, he looked up and found Elijah slumped in a chair, his face set into a distinct frown and

his knees pulled to his chest. How could someone so beautiful cause so much death and destruction in
his wake?

Rowan took a deep breath.
It might be what Maxim wanted, but he needed to hear it from Elijah’s lips. “Tell me the whole

truth. Tell me what happened between you two, and why you worked for the Butcher,” he said and
waited for Elijah’s response.

Chapter Fourteen

Elijah almost laughed at Rowan’s request. The alpha wanted the truth? Well, that wasn’t going

to make Elijah look any better in his eyes. But it’d have the effect Maxim wanted. It’d get Rowan to
leave.

His chest constricted at that thought.
Rowan would be able to tell if he lied.
The truth it was.
Too bad Rowan didn’t pace. Some form of movement might calm the dread creeping up Elijah’s

nerves. Instead, Rowan stood still, but his face wasn’t neutral this time. He frowned deeply, the
shadows catching around his dark eyes so Elijah couldn’t read them at all.

“Fine. Just so you know, I wasn’t lying to you. Not that it matters, but I never thought this would

come up.” That was the truth. “Plus, how do you think someone gets into assassination as a
profession? Everyone has to start somewhere. There’s not a recruitment program like your gig.”

“You’re babbling,” Rowan said and crossed his arms.
He was babbling. Nervous habit, but Elijah wasn’t about to admit that.
The alpha stared at him steadily. He could sense it bristling under the man-shape, but it didn’t

look ready to rip him to shreds. Rowan was learning to control the wolf now, and Elijah felt like he
was losing control of his. Inside him, the omega paced like a caged animal.

He was a caged animal, thanks to Maxim.
Elijah gritted his teeth. “Walter died when Si and I were eighteen. After he passed we split ways.

Simeon headed to Asia, and I came to Europe to make a name for myself. Walter’s old contacts didn’t
want to have anything to do with an unproven kid, so I was on my own. Anyway, a Russian drug lord
hired me to take out the Butcher. It was a fucking suicide mission, but I didn’t know that at the time so
I took the job,” he said as he remembered how stupid he’d been back then.

Everything Walter taught him flew out the window. His teacher was right. Elijah was too cocky

for his own good, and he had to pay for it.

“And?”
“I, uh, got caught.”
“How?” Rowan asked, his voice as edged as a sword.
Elijah glowered. Rowan wasn’t lying when he said he wanted the whole story. “I was careless.

The Butcher was just building his reputation, so I didn’t know who I was up against. He had about
fifteen different drug lords he was trying to overthrow, and I thought he wouldn’t notice one measly
assassin coming after him at his home.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. It was better than the constant frown, but it didn’t make Elijah feel

better. Attacking the man at his home – on his own goddamn territory – without scoping the place out
first, was the worst mistake he ever made.

“He had hunters as bodyguards,” Elijah said, and flinched when he remembered the silver and

wolf’s bane. They were old wounds he hadn’t considered in a long time, but the memory stung
nonetheless. “He gave me a choice – to die at his hand, painfully, or work for him. I chose to work for
him.”

Rowan let out a breath through his nose and moved forward until he blocked the fire. It roared

behind him, casting his entire face in shadow. “He forced you to hunt your own kind?” He sounded
desperate. Like he wanted that to be true, and here Elijah had to go and dash those dreams to the rocks.

“Forced? No. He forced me to work for him. Hunting wolves was just a bonus. I hated other

wolves,” Elijah spat, surprised how venomous his voice got. “It was a chance to prove how much
stronger I was. Especially with cocky as all fuck alphas.”

Rowan turned to the fire. His entire body looked as brittle as a burnt out tree. One touch and the

whole thing would fall to ash.

Elijah sighed. Not that there were many wolves. Only a handful really, but that didn’t make the

truth any better, especially after what happened to Rowan’s pack. “I didn’t hunt that many wolves –
only the ones that got in the Butcher’s way. Most shifters are smarter than that. Then Maxim showed
up,” he said and stared at his hands.

Elijah remembered the first time they met. Maxim’s wavy hair brushed the nape of his neck, and

he was so handsome and charming it threw Elijah off guard. Even if he was an alpha who knew Elijah
was an omega right off, that didn’t stop his flirting. Or how damn easy it was to fall into bed with him.

Maxim wasn’t a king then – hell, maybe he didn’t even have a pack. Elijah never asked.
His mind wandered back to that cheap apartment by the Duna with the leaky roof. The way the

sun lit up Maxim’s fiery hair from behind. And how good it felt to have control over an alpha.

He knew little about Maxim’s past, besides that the alpha was a college student in Budapest. At

the time, Elijah was on a mission for the Butcher – establishing new contacts in the city by any means
necessary. Basic thug work, but it kept his skills sharp.

Elijah thought he could go back to the borderlands without any trouble and forget about Maxim,

but the alpha had other ideas.

Now that Elijah thought about it, Maxim may have staked this Old One territory as his a long

time ago. Maybe he just went to Budapest to understand the human world better. Elijah heard of
wolves doing that. At the time, he considered none of it.

“Maxim came looking for me in the borderlands. When he found me, the Butcher found him,”

Elijah said and swallowed. Part of him wished Rowan would just turn around, and the other part of
him was glad the man didn’t. Elijah wasn’t sure he could stand the look on the alpha’s face. “When
they found out he was a wolf, they locked him up. I—I was supposed to kill him.”

“But you didn’t,” Rowan said.
The fire cracked and one of the logs crumbled to charcoal.
“No. I’d been working for the Butcher over a year at that point, and I knew what happened to

people who didn’t follow orders. But fuck if I didn’t hate him almost as much as I hated my own
father. There was a lot of confusion at the time. Rumor’s that Maxim’s pack was looking for him, so I
took advantage of it. I ran and left Maxim there. I didn’t have a choice,” Elijah finished, his voice
gruff.

Rowan turned, and his mouth thinned into a line. Here it came. The hatred. The blame. He’d

never want to see Elijah again. Or maybe Rowan would try to kill him.

Barehanded.
What would being strangled to death feel like? Elijah did it to assholes that deserved it, but he

never imagined the pain of a crushed windpipe. Not being able to breathe for minutes on end until
everything faded away.

“Bullshit,” Rowan growled. “You had a choice and you chose to run. You chose to save yourself.

Admit it.”

Elijah’s eyes widened, and he stared at the alpha looming over him. “What?”
Rowan ran a hand through his hair, then balled it into a tight fist. His heart thundered. “Admit

you chose to leave Maxim there,” Rowan repeated. “We both chose to turn our backs on our own kind.
I want you to admit it.”

The same old stubbornness bore into his chest. “You admit it,” Elijah bit back, no matter how

childish it sounded.

Suddenly, Rowan fell to his knees and leaned forward. His face looked like it was carved from

stone. “You left him to die. You didn’t give a shit about anyone besides yourself and your brother.
Admit it, Elijah.”

“What does this prove?” Elijah said, his voice rising in pitch. “Tell me you hate me and get it

over with. That’s what Maxim wants. Then you can leave me in his care, and he’ll torture me for the
rest of my life!”

But Rowan didn’t say anything of the sort. He grabbed Elijah’s slender hand and squeezed. His

pulse beat like he was running a goddamn marathon. “Admit it. Please.”

Please. It was that one word that threw him over the edge. Elijah slowly closed his eyes. “Okay.

I left him to die and saved myself. Happy?”

“But you came back for me,” Rowan said, his brow furrowed and his eyes searching Elijah’s

face for an answer.

Elijah’s breath caught in his throat. That’s what this was about? How was he supposed to explain

it? Why did Rowan need him to? “It—things got out of hand. They weren’t supposed to hurt you. I
was trying to keep you out of the way until I finished off Banik. Then I was going to let you go.”

Ashina’s glory! That sounded pathetic! Especially for an assassin.
“Did you ever plan to leave me behind?” Rowan asked, his gaze steely.
Here it was. The truth. The only person Elijah couldn’t abandon. “No. It never crossed my

mind.”

Rowan stared at him so long he thought the alpha turned into a damn statue. Then the side of his

mouth quirked, very slightly, and he let out a long breath. “Then I’m not going to leave you here.”

If Elijah had been standing, he wasn’t sure his legs would support him anymore. Looking into

Rowan’s eyes, he saw the truth behind those words. Maybe Yue did know what she was doing. The
desire sizzled behind that gaze, and it wasn’t like the looks Maxim used to give him. There was an
unfathomable depth to that expression that warmed Elijah’s heart. Filled the pit in his stomach and
told him, vaguely, that he was no longer alone.

Maybe this is what trusting someone felt like.
And he had to trust Rowan – the alpha was all he had.
How come he never realized it before?
“Are you going to confess your undying love for me?” Elijah asked, breathlessly.
Rowan sighed. A flash of annoyance crossed his face but he brushed it away. Looks like Elijah

couldn’t rile him up like he used to. Or maybe he’d just have to try harder.

Then Rowan leaned forward, so close Elijah was sure they would kiss, but the man picked him

up instead. He held Elijah in his arms like he weighed nothing. Showing off his damn alpha strength,
no doubt.

He carried Elijah to the bed. Their bare skin burned where it touched, and he set the omega

down.

“I’m not tired,” Elijah said.
Rowan’s mouth brushed his jaw. “I never said anything about sleeping.”
If it weren’t for the jolt of desire that surged to his groin, Elijah would’ve chuckled. He clung to

Rowan’s strong back and squeezed his eyes shut. “You want to claim me?” he whispered.

Even if Rowan was his mate – he wasn’t sure he could handle that.
Not yet.
Rowan’s lips met his in an all consuming kiss. The velvet heat of his tongue sent a shock of

electricity straight to Elijah’s toes, adding to the ache deep in his balls. Then Rowan pulled back,
mouth parted, and shook his head.

“No. You’re going to claim me.”
Elijah tried to think of something to say. Of all the outcomes of his confession, this one never

crossed his mind. This moment didn’t even seem possible twenty four hours earlier. What changed?

The woods? The hunters? Maxim?
Of course he was going to claim Rowan – that’s what he’d been saying all along. But now the

words dried on his tongue. His fingers trembled as he brought them to Rowan’s full bottom lip. “You
don’t have to prove how gay you are. I figured it out a long time ago,” he said and smiled.

Rowan shook his head. “Don’t, or I might change my mind.”
Elijah felt the lust and need waking in both their bodies. Empty threat. Not because Rowan was

the alpha, albeit one inexperienced with anal sex, it was because he knew how Elijah felt. He knew
being claimed was too much like weakness.

And Rowan proved it wasn’t. Nothing was weak about him.
Elijah leaned forward, his mouth brushing Rowan’s ear. The sensation sent shockwaves through

his body. “Maxim might get jealous.”

A rumble stirred in Rowan’s broad chest, and he pressed it against Elijah, covering him with its

warmth. His roughly calloused hands wandered to the laces on Elijah’s shirt and tugged them open,
revealing the smooth skin. “Good. He’s not your mate. I am.”

Those words knotted into a beautiful bow, and Elijah couldn’t help smiling. He didn’t think he’d

smiled like this in years.

Then Rowan kissed him again, drowning them both. Nothing, not even Maxim or the Butcher,

could disturb it. The leather pants tightened around his cock, and he gasped as Rowan’s length pressed
against his, straining and rock hard. It was a good thing he’d be claiming the alpha. No way his ass
could take a monster like that.

Rowan’s mouth wandered down his neck, hot and heavy, peppering his skin with luscious kisses.
Elijah’s fingers wound in Rowan’s smooth hair, the man’s musk rising with it, filling his nose

and blurring every coherent thought he’d ever had. The rough linen scratched his back. Slowly, Rowan
nudged the shirt up Elijah’s waist, tossing the belt onto the floor, and slipping the material over the
omega’s head.

Sweat beaded on Elijah’s skin.
Rowan stared at him, those usually fathomless eyes as warm as a summer’s day.
“You’re not nearly naked enough,” Elijah breathed and fumbled with the ties on Rowan’s shirt.

They fell open easily – thank Yue! – and Rowan yanked it off without further ado.

His muscular thighs straddled Elijah’s slender hips, the perfect position for so many things. The

omega wasn’t going to waste an opportunity like that. He might get to claim Rowan, but he was going
to make the alpha beg for it first.

The leather ties strained and knotted under his eager fingers, and Elijah cursed as they finally

fell free. Every brush of Rowan’s captive cock mirrored the desire in his own body. The sensation was
damn near impossible to ignore.

At least Rowan had the right idea. He kicked off his boots and slipped the leather pants over his

hips without argument. His hungry cock unfurled.

Elijah climbed to his knees. They sunk into the bed deeply, and he realized the mattress was

filled with down. Maxim really went all out with the authenticity.

He stared at Rowan’s smoothly muscled flesh. With every brush of Elijah’s talented fingers

goose bumps rose across it, even though the room was warm.

Rowan’s length twitched, but he let Elijah take his time, take him in. “How do you want me?”

the alpha asked.

Elijah gripped the base of Rowan’s cock in response. He’d answer with actions instead of words.

His mouth watered to taste the alpha again.

This time Rowan’s entire body was willing to admit the truth. Admit their connection went

down to their very souls. Elijah felt it pounding through both their hearts.

He used his tongue first. It slipped over the tip slowly, tasting the salty pre-come that gathered

there like a shimmering pearl. Rowan’s body shuddered, and the alpha sucked in a sharp breath.

“Tell me I’m better than your other lovers,” Elijah hummed, squeezing his mouth over the

hearty shaft. It beat against his lips and tongue, his palm caressing those deliciously full balls.

Rowan’s fingers bit into Elijah’s shoulder as he moaned. “You know you are. Tell me I’m better

than yours.”

Elijah paused, his heart holding still for one moment. Why should Rowan care?
Unless. . . .
He sucked harder, dragging his lips over the surface until his own body was ready to burst. Just

when the cusp was all but a breath away, he pulled back and let the need tighten and ball into his groin
until it ached.

Elijah kissed Rowan’s stomach. “You’re better than all of them. Better than Maxim.”
Those powerful muscles tensed. Rowan brushed the hair from Elijah’s eyes, his skin flushed

with desire. “You did that on purpose. What’s next?”

It hurt him as much as it hurt Rowan, but it wasn’t an unpleasant pain. It’d make the eventual

peak of their passion that much better. Elijah grinned. “We need ye olde lube. Not sure what we’ll find
in the room,” he said and moved to unlace his pants.

Rowan leaned forward, gripping Elijah’s hands in his powerful palm. “Not yet,” he growled.
The intensity in his voice sent a shiver up Elijah’s spine. “Bossy even as a bottom. I like that.”
While Maxim didn’t have any spare KY sitting around, Elijah found a bottle of oil to be used in

the lamps. It smelled heavily of olives and was thick enough to work just as well. Rowan weighted it
in his hands, and Elijah expected him to look frightened or hesitant. Instead his eyes shone, and he
kissed Elijah like they hadn’t seen each other in years.

Elijah gasped, the breath catching in his throat.
“Where do you want me?” Rowan breathed.
“Bed. Now,” Elijah said. Anticipation clawed at his groin. Rowan was really going to do this.
No take backs.
No other lovers.
They’d be tied together for all time.
Elijah never felt more certain of anything in his life.
Rowan fell onto the bed, pulling Elijah with him. They both sunk into the mattress, the finely

embroidered velvet quilt pillowing around them. Vaguely, Elijah hoped they ruined the damn thing.

Then Rowan’s fingers slipped over his flesh, and any thoughts of the outside world fell away. He

brushed Elijah’s nipples, tenderly, teasing the nubs until they flushed pink.

“My pants,” Elijah groaned, arching his back into the touch.
Rowan leaned in, his mouth lingering across Elijah’s collarbone, tasting the flesh as his palms

wandered lower.

This was revenge for leaving the alpha at the brink and pulling back, Elijah thought. The best

kind of revenge.

His hand engulfed Elijah’s captured cock. Slowly, achingly, until the world blurred to nothing

but the sensation of that heat and the need to release it.

“I’m going to–” Elijah moaned.
Rowan pulled away, his absence like a black hole. “Not yet. Not until we both come.”
Elijah was not going to argue with that. “Pants, please?” he asked, his voice heavy. For the first

time in his life, being weak with desire didn’t prickle at him. The need for control slipped away.

Control didn’t exist when they wanted each other this badly.
Rowan tugged the leather ties free, and nudged Elijah’s pants down his hips. At least he took his

boots and socks off while they looked for lube, or this whole achingly slow situation would be worse.

Once they were both naked, Rowan fished the bottle of oil from the quilt and let it pour over his

hand. It pooled in his palm, and he furrowed his brows as he met Elijah’s eyes. That expression said
‘now what?’

Elijah smiled and guided Rowan’s hand forward. His touch sizzled against Elijah’s cock, but it

was as economical as he could make it. Then he turned around, his dreamlike ass on display.

Maxim’s guards could bust into the room at any moment and drag them apart, and Elijah wasn’t

sure he’d be able to hear from the blood rushing through his veins. Only one thought occupied his
mind – he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

He kissed the arch of Rowan’s back and coated his fingers generously. The thick oil made

purchase on Rowan’s skin nearly impossible as he nudged the first digit forward.

The slight pinch bit into his flesh, giving way to an aching pleasure he’d never known. If this is

how he experienced it secondhand, what would it feel like firsthand?

Rowan growled, hungrily.
Elijah moaned. This was going to be more intense than he thought.
A wave of heat pooled in his stomach as he slipped in a second finger, scissoring them in and

out until he hit the sweet spot.

Rowan jumped. “Fuck!”
Elijah bit his lip so hard he was surprised he didn’t taste blood. “Better than anyone else, right?”
“Yeah,” Rowan said, his voice dreamy. Just as lost in the moment as Elijah. “Are you ready?”
“You’re the one who needs to be ready, or it’ll hurt,” Elijah said.
“Do it,” Rowan growled. His fists bunched on the quilt, and he pushed his ass toward Elijah.

How the hell could he refuse that kind of invitation?

Elijah positioned himself. Oil dripped down Rowan’s thighs as the omega nudged his cock

inside. A dual sensation, the glorious tightness of Rowan’s ass mixed with the aching passion
radiating over his being.

Rowan groaned, shoving his body into Elijah’s length until he was impaled to the hilt.
Fuck if they both didn’t come then and there.
He dragged a deep breath through his nose, waited a beat, and touched Rowan’s hip. “You

okay?” Elijah gasped.

Rowan tilted his head, and Elijah caught the side of his mate’s mouth turned into a smile. “Stop

being so gentle and fuck me already. I know how much you want too.”

And Elijah knew how much Rowan wanted it. Yue’s bond put everything between them on a

whole other level.

He didn’t hold back this time. Static buzzed over his skin. His fingers gripped Rowan’s body.

Their hips rolled together with every thrust. The essence of their beings wound around each other,
hearts pounding as one. Bodies slick with sweat.

“Deeper,” Rowan growled, his great chest rumbling with the sound, and Elijah could do nothing

but comply.

This wasn’t weakness at all. Giving into your mate was a sign of trust. Love. Why the hell hadn’t

Elijah realized that before?

He was probably too fucked up to even think about it.
Pleasure pricked every inch of his body, thick and sweet. Friction woke nerves he never knew he

had, and he reached around Rowan’s thighs to his rock hard cock.

The alpha swatted his hand away. “Don’t. Fuck me until we both come,” Rowan ground out

between clenched teeth.

Elijah kissed Rowan’s sweat slick back and thrust again. They’d both be sore, and he couldn’t

bring himself to care. The intensity of now made it worth any future pain.

Another thrust, and that knot in his groin unfurled like a star going super nova. His back arched

into the sensation, a low groan crawling up his throat. Heat filled them both, flowing through their
veins and exciting every cell between them.

His limbs went limp, and he leaned onto Rowan’s solid back, listening to the strong pounding of

his heart. Ragged pants escaped his lips. Elijah’s eyes drooped, even if falling asleep in Maxim’s
castle was a terrible idea, he no longer had the will to fight it.

Not after that.
“You’re mine, alpha,” he said with sleepy satisfaction into Rowan’s ear.
Rowan grunted. “It goes both ways, omega.”

* * *

Maxim’s summons came the next morning.
They ate breakfast in the room wearing nothing but their shirts. At the very least, they didn’t

have to sit through another meal in the hall with Maxim taunting them.

Elijah was glad they had access to hot water and soap or cleaning up would’ve been impossible.
Rowan flinched when he sat at the table, and Elijah felt the dull stretch and ache. It’s the only

pain he had, strangely. Looks like that Old One’s healing stuck.

Even after that amazing night, their current predicament hung over the room like a fog. The

small, deep set windows were too narrow to climb out, if there was anywhere to go on the third floor
of a castle in the first place. Not to mention that thick, distorted glass was probably impossible to
break.

The heavy oak door and iron bolt weren’t going to be easy, or quiet, to get out of either. Their

only chance was to do what Maxim wanted for the moment, then plan an escape when they were out of
the castle. From the look of concentration on Rowan’s face, he felt the same.

Someone knocked as they finished their breakfast. Rowan glanced at Elijah, his expression

hardening into a frown. He rose to stand before the door.

Kamil opened it, his brown hair loose on his shoulders. Rowan blocked the doorway with his

bulk, but the beta wolf didn’t show any sign of intimidation. “The king wants a word with Elijah,” he
said, and glanced at Elijah over Rowan’s broad shoulders.

“Alone? No,” Rowan growled. Even without pants he looked every bit the powerful alpha.
Elijah’s heart thumped faster, and he frowned. “He’s going to insist until he gets his way,

right?” Maxim did the same thing when they first met.

Kamil inclined his head, as if to say ‘you know him well.’ Elijah wished he didn’t. Whatever

happened between them was a lifetime ago.

“I’ll go. It’ll be fine,” Elijah said and yanked on his pants. Whatever Maxim planned wouldn’t

be good, but if he wanted to kill them he’d have done it already.

The alpha bared his fangs, and Elijah felt a surge of protective desire flow through his veins.

This time, the omega nuzzled into the sensation like a warm blanket.

“What does he want?” Rowan asked, his brows furrowed and his voice laced with a plea.
“He’s going to offer a proposition for your freedom,” Kamil said. “It’s in everyone’s best

interest to do as he wishes.”

Elijah’s hair stood up on the back of his neck at those words. Following orders from another

alpha – he never thought he’d be in this position again. “I said I’d go. My mate doesn’t think I can
take care of myself, apparently,” he said and yanked on his boots.

Rowan frowned. “No. You’re more than capable. I know how strong you are.”
Elijah smiled. Did Rowan know how much those words meant to him? His heart fluttered. Even

bound to Rowan’s, it felt as light as air. Their connection no longer dragged him down – no longer
hurt. Instead it imbued him with a new sense of purpose.

He kissed Rowan’s cheek, and the alpha wrapped his arms around Elijah’s shoulders in a quick

hug before releasing him. He didn’t say a word as he moved away, but he felt the unease simmering in
Rowan’s mind.

Silently, he told his mate they’d get out of this.
Alive.
Both of them.
Kamil tossed him a wary glance as he bolted the door. Like the other guards, he wore a shirt of

steel chainmail over his linen with another tunic over the top of it. The black crescent moon graced the
front and back in simple embroidery. He didn’t make a move to lead the way.

Elijah hadn’t killed another wolf since he left the Butcher’s employ. Not because he was against

it; he just hadn’t met another wolf who deserved it. He wouldn’t say anything to ease the beta’s mind,
however.

The more dangerous they thought he was the better.
They walked side by side. Their footsteps echoed in the empty halls, and Elijah glanced at the

torches burning in sconces every several yards.

“Why live like this?” Elijah finally asked. “The modern world is–”
“More convenient? I know. I’ve been into human territory. It reeks,” Kamil said.
Elijah smirked. “You get used to the smell.”
The beta didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. “This land is our home. I don’t expect you to

understand. Lone wolves never do. Our Old One must’ve seen something in you, however, if you’re
still alive.”

“If your Old Ones kill trespassers, why are you having a problem with the borders?” Elijah

asked. He heard enough of the chatter in the hall to get an idea of what was going on. Hunters massed
around this territory like ants on sugar. He still didn’t have enough information, and if Kamil was
willing to share, he’d take advantage of it.

Kamil pursed his lips. “The hunters grow in numbers every month. Maxim will explain.”
Elijah frowned. What the hell was the Butcher up to? In the past, he never cared much about Old

One territory. Why would he? It held none of the riches of drugs and sex slaves. None of the power of
crooked politicians and ruling nations.

All it held were shifters, Old Ones and magic.
His blood ran cold.
Magic.
Is that what the Butcher wanted?
No wonder Maxim was desperate.
His first conversation with the king didn’t last long the day before. Once Elijah got over the

initial shock that Maxim wasn’t dead, he tried to play it cool. From the look Rowan gave him when
they walked into the hall, Elijah knew he didn’t pull it off.

Seeing the beautiful alpha with the black leather eye patch sent a solid stab of regret through his

chest. Elijah knew the scars under Maxim’s clothes would be worse. The king had every right to hate
him. Every right to want him dead.

At that moment, Maxim asked about Elijah’s business – what brought them to the area?

With no real need to lie, Elijah told him the truth about Banik and his job. He didn’t mention

locking Rowan in the dungeon. Or that the alpha was with the CIA. No need for Maxim to know
everything.

Now the king had a day to stew over that information. What would he do with it?
Nothing good, Elijah presumed.
Thank Yue Kamil didn’t take him to a throne room. Elijah didn’t want to see a brooding Maxim

on an oversized throne. He might laugh just to get on the king’s nerves. And getting on Maxim’s bad
side, or worse side, wasn’t something he needed to do.

Instead Kamil took him to the king’s study. He entered the room with Elijah and stood at the

door.

Maxim leaned against his desk, his face turned toward the small fireplace in the corner. He wore

the same sort of clothes he had the day before, tight leather pants, a plain linen shirt and a leather vest,
laced tightly over his chest. A long, ragged scar peeked out of the eye patch.

Outside the window, Elijah caught the blurred glimpse of a snowy yard and the high, stone

walls. He sighed. “What’s this proposition for our release, your majesty?” Elijah asked, infusing his
voice with just enough bite, even as his back pricked with unease. He was not going to bow down to
another alpha.

Ever.
He heard Kamil stiffen behind him. The beta’s chainmail clinked.
Maxim’s lips quirked, and he crossed his arms. “Oh, I think you’ll like it. I want you to clean up

the mess you made ten years ago. You’re an assassin. Take out the Butcher.”

Predictable. Elijah snorted and rolled his eyes. “Are you hiring me or giving me orders?”
The fire cracked. The yellow light fell on Maxim’s hair, making it glow. He turned to face

Elijah. “Hire you? I’m the king. I don’t need to hire anyone.”

“I don’t take orders from anyone,” Elijah countered. That night with Rowan helped restore some

of his lost confidence. Yesterday, he couldn’t have managed this.

“You’re going to kill the Butcher,” Maxim said evenly.
“Or what?” Elijah asked.
This was it. The part where Maxim threatened him. Or Rowan. That was more likely. He was

ready for both eventualities.

Maxim sighed. “Or I’ll have my warlock sever your tie with Rowan.”
The wind whipped around the castle’s edges, and Elijah swore he felt it brush his face. His soul.

He stood very still and stared at the king.

Maxim’s heart beat steadily. His face was nearly expressionless, though Elijah noticed the slight

lines of age around his good eye. Lines that hadn’t been there ten years ago, though he always carried
an air of loss around him like a cloak.

“That’s not possible. What Yue joined together–”
“Can never be broken,” Maxim finished the line of their ancient mythology and smiled coldly.

“Most of our kind believes that’s the case. Then again, most wolves only hold to the rudimentary
aspects of our origins, like you and your mate. But the more powerful among us know better. It can be
done. Yue’s bond is not as strong as you think.”

Rowan’s heart beat with Elijah’s. It felt like the alpha stood in the room with him. That presence

was so familiar by now, what would it feel like to be without it? More importantly, what would it
mean for their future? A sick pit churned in his stomach. If he knew about that possibility over a
month ago, he might’ve taken it. Rowan too. At that time, being tied to an alpha was a liability.

Now it was his lifeblood.
“It’s better than killing him,” Elijah spat and fought the dread creeping up his chest.

“Is it? I never said that’s all I would do. My pack will toss you to opposite sides of the earth.

Places so remote you’ll never find each other. He’ll be lost to you. Forever,” Maxim growled, balling
his hands into tight fists. “You’ll never hear his heart or feel his breath. You’ll never know if he’s
alive or dead. That’s what I’ll do if you don’t agree to my conditions.”

Elijah trembled from head to toe. The conviction in Maxim’s voice made it clear he was serious.

He’d do whatever it took to get rid of the Butcher using any means necessary.

“What does the Butcher want?” Elijah asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Maxim glared at the fire. “Most humans are wise enough to leave our territory alone, even the

hunters. They know that our worlds may stand side by side, but unfathomable distances separate them.
Even the humans who live and work in this land are aware of that. But that bastard. . . .”

A drop of sweat ran down Elijah’s back. The searing hatred in Maxim’s voice chilled the drop to

ice. He thought he knew the Butcher’s methods well enough – hated and feared the man well enough.
It was nothing compared to what Maxim must feel.

“Max,” Kamil said, his voice gentle.
The king stiffened and stood up straight. “That bastard wants my territory. But he doesn’t want

to convert it into human land. No – he wants the magic it holds for himself.”

The old Elijah would’ve shrugged this off. It wasn’t his problem. It had no bearing on his life.

But now his future with Rowan hung in the balance. Is this all love was? Sacrifice?

“And your Old One would allow this?” Elijah asked, turning to Kamil.
The beta frowned. “Not allow it, but she might not have a choice.”
Old Ones were the most powerful shifters in the world. Thousands of years old. Elijah heard

stories they were immortal, though he wasn’t sure if he believed that or not. At times, it seemed
possible.

“Why wouldn’t she have a choice?” Elijah asked. The pit in his stomach gaped.
In the corner of his mind, he felt Rowan pacing. The anxious buzz of Elijah’s nerves must be

rubbing off on his mate.

Maxim’s jaw clenched, his face grim. “He already killed her mate. We only have one Old One

left. Now, those hunters are trying to catch her. I don’t have to tell you what the Butcher could do with
that kind of power.”

Elijah knew well enough. He swallowed the lump in his throat. This was not his fight, his brain

screamed. He shouldn’t be punished for something that happened ten years ago. He shouldn’t have to
pay for trying to survive. And he shouldn’t have to give up the only glimmer of happiness he ever had
for a pack he had no stake in – territory he didn’t give a shit about.

And if he didn’t agree. . . .
Rowan’s heart pounded.
He’d lose everything.
He crossed his arms, as if that could keep off the cold seeping through his veins. “What makes

you think I’d be able to take him out? I’m one omega. An omega who betrayed him. He’s not going to
forget that.” For once, admitting he was an omega didn’t bristle Elijah’s pride.

Maxim’s lips thinned into a line. It reminded Elijah of a look Rowan got. “I’ve heard stories of

your abilities. Am I wrong to believe them? You’ll leave tonight. If not, you’ll lose your mate. The
choice is yours.”

Elijah closed his eyes. The darkness surrounded him – reminding him of that damn basement.

How fucking useless he was. How the only choice was kill or be killed. He chose to kill back then in
order to stay alive.

When the Butcher’s hunters caught him, he remembered the look on the man’s face – pure

sadistic malice. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, and the sting of silver ripped through his

body. That bastard would do anything for more power. And he wouldn’t stop until he had it.

And, once again, when given the choice, Elijah chose to live.
Now the situation repeated itself.
Another fucking alpha giving him orders and ultimatums.
The pit in his stomach churned into a ball of fire. It burned through the fear and doubt. The

memory of Rowan’s touch mingled with it, and Elijah knew what he had to do.

He was strong enough.
With Rowan at his side, the omega was strong enough for anything.
“No,” Elijah said, his voice hardly a whisper.
Kamil sucked in a breath.
Maxim watched him, his good eye narrowing. “I should’ve known you’d abandon your mate.

That alpha is a fool to trust you.”

Elijah smiled. This king didn’t get it. “I’m not throwing him away either. But I don’t answer to

you. I don’t answer to any alpha, and I never will. If you want my help, then challenge me to a fight. If
you win, I’ll do what you ask. If you lose, you’ll let me and Rowan go with our bond intact.”

He expected Maxim to deny the proposition straight out, but the king stared at him for a long

moment. His expression was as icy as the snow piled outside. Then his expression brightened. “As you
wish, omega, but if you lose, not only will you do my biding, but you’ll join my kingdom. We could
use another omega. We already lost one,” Maxim said.

“Max!” Kamil cried, but the king didn’t even glance in his direction.
Blood roared in Elijah’s ears. “Fine. I don’t plan to lose.”
Maxim smiled coolly as he stepped out of the room. “You should. I’ll beat you. Painfully.”
Elijah smirked.
This king had no idea how much pain he could handle.

Chapter Fifteen

Tension bristled throughout the castle. Rowan felt it in the flagstones under his feet. Whatever

was happening out there, Elijah was right in the middle of it.

Footsteps pattered down the hall outside the room, and he heard a distance shout about a

challenge being offered. Or accepted.

A challenge?
Yeah, that was probably Elijah. What the hell had that omega gotten himself into this time?

Challenging Maxim? Or did the king challenge Elijah?

His body froze at that thought.
The alpha scratched and whined at the cage of Rowan’s body, begging to be freed. He glanced at

the windows and the door, but he’d looked over them a hundred times since that beta dragged Elijah
away. Unless he could break through four inch solid oak, he wasn’t going to escape.

Then something dragged across his side, the shadow of claws ripped at his flesh, and he howled

in response. Inside, he felt the omega whine at the blow.

No! They were doing something to his mate, and Rowan was not going to allow it.
He threw off his shirt and shifted into a great wolf. The door met his first lunge with

indifference. Only a dull bang rang through the room.

If Elijah were here, he’d probably sweet talk the guards into opening the door for him, but

Rowan wasn’t about to waste time with them.

They were all too loyal to Maxim.
He charged at the door again, shoulder first, and a surge of energy ran through him. He felt his

teeth sink into flesh and hold. The bone underneath nearly cracked and broke before he flew off. A
sudden jolt knocked the breath from his lungs.

Dammit! If he didn’t get to Elijah soon. . . .
Rowan clawed at the door. It left deep clefts in the wood, but it wasn’t enough. He’d never be

able to get out at this pace.

He needed to stop.
Think.
Use his damn head.
His alpha strength was more than physical.
Panting and bruised, he turned back into a human. Sweat clung to his flesh as he looked around

the room for something – anything – that could help him escape. Maybe he’d been thinking about this
wrong the whole time.

When he was in the dungeon, brute strength didn’t help him break free. Now he needed to use

the door’s weakness against it. That’s how he’d get out and help Elijah.

Unfortunately, they didn’t leave any bolt cutters in the room.
Rowan took a breath to clear his head. Slow his heart. Elijah’s slammed fast enough for both of

them.

There.
A thin gap where the door met the frame. If he squinted, he could see the bolt on the other side.

It was a straight piece of metal that slid to the right. All he had to do was move it to the left, somehow,
and he’d be free.

Assuming, of course, no guards on the other side waited to stop him. If so, they hadn’t said

anything about the racket he’d been making.

Rowan glanced under the door. No sign of feet, but they could be stationed on either side. He

willed the blood in his ears to slow down – and listened for a breath. A stray heartbeat. Something that
told him he wasn’t alone.

Rowan heard nothing.
Good.
Now he just had to open that damn door.
Not surprisingly, the servants didn’t leave anything helpful in the room. He tore through every

drawer, trying to ignore the bruises forming on his sides or the claws raking down his back. At one
point, he swore his ribs almost collapsed on themselves, and his eyes pinched with the pain.

Finally, he found something that could help. A forgotten sewing basket, complete with yarn and

several long needles.

At that point, he’d try anything.
Rowan’s fingers trembled as he worked the yarn into the slit. At least it was stiff, probably wool,

and went through with little issue. He draped it over the bolt easily. The harder part was getting the
hooked needle to grab the dangling yarn and pull it back.

It took him five tries.
He yanked the yarn back through and tied a slipknot, tightening it in place. If this worked, he’d

be able to slowly pull the bolt free.

Ashina’s glory, he hoped it worked!
Rowan moved the knot to the side.
The bolt didn’t budge.
Rowan stared, panting. His legs ached from crouching. He didn’t want to look at his body. The

number of bruises on it would only make the worrisome ache worse.

His mate was out there fighting for something – probably both of their lives – and he couldn’t do

a damn thing to help!

Yue was fucking around with him again. Giving him a difficult and dangerous mate, just to

snatch him away when they finally came to an understanding.

But this time Rowan wasn’t going to give up and let her win.
It was his life – and their love story didn’t get a tragic ending, no matter what kind of men they

were.

Rowan grabbed another needle from the box, long and sharp, and slid it into the crack. It caught

on the uneven surface of the bolt, and he slipped it sideways.

The bolt moved.
Barely.
Less than a millimeter.
But it did move.
He almost laughed. Or cried. Fuck, it was something!
Rowan was so intent on the bolt and the needle, he almost didn’t notice the single set of

footsteps rushing down the hall. Whoever it was wore boots, soft soled, and stopped right outside the
door.

He almost dropped the needle, but he slipped it into his palm instead.
Then the bolt slid free, and Rowan stood.
Kamil stared at him. The beta’s usually controlled expression was stricken, brown eyes wide,

and his face flushed from the run. “The omega–” he started.

Rowan didn’t wait for him to finish. He charged past the man and down the hall. The thread that

bound him to Elijah tugged him forward. His mate’s heart pounded, though he felt Elijah’s breath

wheeze with his own – the omega’s throat constricting.

When he got there Elijah would still be alive.
Elijah had to be alive.

Chapter Sixteen

Elijah followed Maxim down the hall. His nerves sang with the promise of a fight, and he kept

that nagging voice in the back of his head out of it. The voice that told him he needed a gun or a knife
to beat an alpha. He didn’t have the element of surprise like he did with his dad.

There was no way in hell he’d beat a wolf like Maxim.
No! He could win.
He had to win.
What had Walter said about his cocky attitude?
Maxim strode into a part of the castle Elijah hadn’t seen yet – a great hall with a throne at the

end of it.

Elijah snorted. Of course Maxim had a fucking throne room.
Tapestries lined the walls. They depicted wolves and hunters embattled. Great spurts of blood

colored each one. He didn’t have time to study them at the moment.

He had a fight to win.
“Since you offered the challenge, you choose the weapons,” Maxim said, his voice verging on

bored.

Elijah balled his hands into fists. “I don’t need a weapon besides my claws and fangs.”
Maxim shrugged. He moved his deft fingers to his vest and unlaced it. Of course he wouldn’t

want to rip his outfit. For once, they were in agreement.

“You’re not going to call your whole pack to watch?” Elijah asked. He heard a few guards slip

into the hall while they stripped, but there were more shifters throughout the castle. None of them
were here now.

“Do you want that big of an audience for your defeat?” Maxim said. He was naked, and even in

the dim torchlight Elijah saw the scars marring his flesh. Scars from silver and wolf’s bane left
Maxim’s skin puckered and burned. Not even an Old One could heal something like that. “And my
court is much more than a simple pack – it’s a kingdom. You’d do well to remember that.”

Elijah smiled. Maxim should remember that Elijah had an alpha on his side, even if Rowan was

locked up at the moment. He kept that thought to himself.

He bent into his wolf shape. His claws clicked on the flagstones. He wouldn’t find much

purchase there. This was just like any other fight. He needed to make use of his advantages, his speed
and agility.

Maxim shifted. A great red wolf stood before him. With the eye patch removed, his blind eye

was nothing but a gaping hole. The other was as dark as a starless sky. The scars were covered by fur
now, and he growled. It rumbled around the room.

The torches flickered. Wind whipped outside, and the chill of it seeped into Elijah’s bones.
The omega charged forward and the fight began.
He might’ve been fast, but Maxim was quick as well. While most alpha’s hulking size slowed

them down, Elijah didn’t take Maxim’s slighter frame into account.

Elijah swiped his right paw and came up empty.
A moment later, Maxim’s claws dug into his side, cutting through the flesh until Elijah

whimpered.

Fuck!
Elijah rolled away and climbed to his feet. His blood dripped from Maxim’s claws, staining the

floor.

Be smart. Stay on his blind side. Get in fast and get out. Elijah repeated that mantra as he moved

in for a second attack.

Maxim met him head on, and they tumbled into a pile of fur and gnashing teeth. His fangs

caught on the alpha’s shoulder, the bones creaked, ready to snap. Then Maxim shook his great body,
and Elijah flew off.

He slid across the smooth floor, slammed into the wall and gasped for breath. That attack didn’t

break any bones, but Maxim favored his other leg now.

Good.
That’s what he had to do. Systematically weaken Maxim in critical places.
It’s the only way he could win.
The battle dragged on.
At some points, it felt like an invisible force rammed into Elijah, and he frowned inwardly at his

mate. What the hell was Rowan doing? Trying to get them both killed? Now, most of all, he needed
the alpha’s strength. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Elijah didn’t take the time to think
about it further.

For every six bruises and cuts Maxim inflicted on him, Elijah made an attack of his own. He

moved into the alpha’s flank, on his blind side, and cut into the muscle with his claws.

Maxim yelped and blood trickled from the wound.
Elijah jumped away, panting. If only the bastard would give up, they could end this quickly. But

he knew by the fire in Maxim’s eyes, that wasn’t going to happen.

And Elijah couldn’t blame him. No matter what tactics the king used to get rid of the Butcher,

he saw Maxim’s point of view. If that evil bastard got his hands on an Old One – if he figured out how
to utilize magic like shifters could – only bad things would come from it.

No. Bad was too small a word.
Horrendous things.
Things Elijah couldn’t even imagine.
Things he didn’t want to imagine.
Maxim leapt and caught him off guard. They tumbled across the floor, the thick scent of blood

and musk clouding his senses.

Elijah’s heart slammed, but his muscles weakened with every swipe. He couldn’t keep this up

forever. Even with Rowan at his side, lending him strength – he’d collapse eventually.

They needed to finish this.
Now.
Maxim’s teeth latched onto his neck. The fangs dug into the fur and flesh, cutting and pinching

off Elijah’s supply of air.

He wheezed, rasping for breath.
It couldn’t end like this. He had to win. Not to prove anything, but to save Rowan. To save his

own damn future.

“Elijah!” the voice rang across the hall, clear as a bell.
Feet pattered and shouts raised from some distant place.
Rowan? How the hell did he get out of the room? Didn’t matter. He felt Rowan’s heart. The

alpha howled at him to get up. To move.

Okay, maybe he’d listen to one alpha from now on.
Elijah dug his claws into Maxim, catching the wound on his shoulder. The alpha’s jaw loosened,

and Elijah scurried out of his grip. He leapt forward, to finish it once and for all, but Maxim didn’t
move to meet him.

The king hunched on the ground. His wolf shape faded into that of a man, broken and bloody. He

glanced behind Elijah, then his eyes fell to the floor. “You win, omega. You and your mate are free.”
The weight of his voice held the weariness of a battle lost.

It hung around Elijah’s neck like a physical thing, no matter how much he willed himself to

claim this victory. He shifted, stumbled forward, and strong arms caught him from behind.

Rowan’s arms.
Elijah forced himself to smile weakly. “We’re free,” he said.

* * *

Elijah would’ve slunk out that night except his injuries didn’t allow it. In that condition, Rowan

probably wouldn’t have allowed it either.

As it was, Maxim gave them a proper guest room – one without a bolt on the outside of the door,

and even let one of his healers see to Elijah’s wounds. The woman was a bear, but her touch was
gentle. The mixture of herbs and magic dulled the pain and mended the flesh.

Still, something prickled his nerves, urging him to get the hell out of there as quickly as

possible.

He told Rowan about Maxim’s ultimatum and the threat of cutting their mate bond. The alpha

frowned deeply, but he seemed more thoughtful about the whole thing than truly angry. Did he think
Elijah should’ve taken the offer to kill the Butcher?

If so, Rowan didn’t say.
On the fifth day, Elijah felt well enough to trudge out of the snow encrusted forest and back into

the modern world. Even with hunters on the lookout, Maxim’s territory was large, stretching clear into
Poland and the Ukraine. If they headed northeast they’d be able to avoid the worst of it. From what the
guards said, the Butcher didn’t have a foothold that far north.

Elijah needed to get away from Maxim. Get away from his past and the Butcher.
His future was all he should worry about, not the mistakes he made to get here.
Plus, this wasn’t his problem.
They didn’t see Maxim before they left. The king was confined to his chambers to heal, and the

guards watched it warily. Maxim was probably nursing his bruised ego as well. Getting bested by an
omega didn’t look good, though none of the shifters in the castle spoke poorly of their leader.

Ha! They probably took Elijah’s history too seriously. They cast him sideways glances, their

faces pinched with unease. Too bad Elijah couldn’t feel happier about it. A few months before, he
would’ve gloated in Maxim’s face. Now the victory seemed hollow.

Focusing on the sensation made it worse.
Kamil provided them with clothes and provisions for the journey back to the border. He didn’t

argue with Elijah’s urgency to leave and agreed to be their solitary guide. Of course, Maxim wasn’t
going to let them tramp around his territory without one.

At least, that’s what Elijah thought.
The cold air hit him in the face as they trudged out of the castle gates and across the frozen

moat. The fur lined cloak took off some of the chill, and Elijah was actually grateful for the drafty
castle they left behind. It was better than nothing.

They piled onto a sleigh, pulled by Kamil in his wolf form, and rode into the woods.
Rowan stayed close to Elijah’s side, and nobody said much of anything. What was there to say?

Elijah won the challenge. And he didn’t have to fix anything in this territory. Even if the Butcher
wanted to capture and control the Old One, there was no saying that bastard could do it.

He was only a human – a human with a whole fucking army of hunters on his side. But Maxim

had an army of shifters. That’s what Elijah told himself to quell the guilt rising in his chest.

The silence of the wood hung around them. It swallowed the sound of the sleigh’s rails.

Trepidation crept up Elijah’s back, like that strange Old One would materialize out of the air and
demand he fix what he broke. Or undo the magic she used to heal his back.

She didn’t.
It took four days to reach the northeast border.
In that time, Kamil said little, though he frowned at Elijah as often as he could. On their last

night, crouched over a fire at some stone hut Kamil found in the woods, the beta finally spoke. “He
was never in love with you.”

Elijah coughed on his stew. Impressive. Most people couldn’t catch him off guard. He was the

one who did that to others. “Maxim?” Who else would Kamil be talking about?

The beta nodded slowly, and the firelight caught in his wide brown eyes until they glowed

golden. “He wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but you’re leaving. I doubt you’d ever be fool enough
to come back.”

Rowan set his bowl in his lap and straightened his shoulders. The weariness and cold pulled at

them all, but Elijah felt Rowan fight it. “What doesn’t that king want us to know?” he growled.

Elijah almost smiled. It was so cute when Rowan got bossy with other wolves.
Kamil let out a long breath. “He had a mate once. Like the two of you, only his bond was

severed.”

“Like he threatened to do to us?” Elijah asked.
No wonder Maxim knew what it felt like. He’d experienced it firsthand. And, from what it

sounded like, Maxim lost his mate before he met Elijah. He almost felt sorry for the king, if Maxim
hadn’t tried to blackmail Elijah to his death.

“Yes,” Kamil said and slurped the rest of his stew. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“And that’s why you won, and he lost. You’ve got something he doesn’t – not only that. You have
something that was cut from him. From how he described it, it was like losing a limb.”

A shiver trailed up Elijah’s back, and he felt Rowan’s gaze lock on him. His cheeks burned, even

with the frozen air creeping around them. “You’re saying I didn’t really win?”

Kamil’s mouth quirked. It was the closest thing to a smile Elijah ever saw on the beta’s face.

“I’m saying you had an unfair advantage. Max is a powerful alpha, and he’s a great king. But I’m not
sure he can defeat this Butcher on his own. I’m not sure any of us can.”

Rowan tensed.
Elijah stared at the flames until they faded to blackened bits of charcoal.
What an uncomfortable thought.

Chapter Seventeen

Rowan felt his mate return to the hotel room before he stepped out of the shower. Over the last

week, that unease in Elijah’s stomach grew. He got a steely, far off look in his eyes as they made their
way farther away from Maxim and the Butcher.

Now Elijah rustled around the room with a plastic bag holding their dinner.
They’d settled in Lublin two days ago, and neither had mentioned what they were supposed to do

now. After Elijah got into one of his accounts and bought them clothes and a car, it seemed like they’d
ruin the moment if they talked about their old lives.

No matter what they meant to each other, Rowan still worked for the CIA and Elijah was still an

assassin, even if they were either missing or presumed dead.

That’s not the thing that chewed at them late at night, however.
They left Maxim’s kingdom behind when they knew the danger the Old One and all those in her

territory faced. It’s something the old Rowan would’ve done. Same for the old Elijah, but weren’t they
different wolves now that they’d found each other?

Better wolves?
Rowan hardly dried off. He threw the towel over his shoulders and peeked out of the room.
Elijah stood facing the window. The view of the city, the roofs covered in sparkling snow, laid

before him. He’d shed his coat, and his dress shirt was untucked and unbuttoned. For once, his
perfectly styled hair was mussed, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times.

Rowan knew how his mate felt.
“Mutton?” he ventured, the scent of the meat reaching his nose.
Elijah nodded and turned, a grin plastered on his face. “And lube. We needed both.”
If he couldn’t feel his mate’s emotions swarming around him, he’d have smiled too. “We have

to–”

“No. We don’t have to do anything except eat and fuck. Not yet anyway,” Elijah said and

stepped up to him.

With his shirt open like that, his muscled chest on display, he made a more than convincing

argument.

Still. . . .
“In that order?”
“The food will get cold the other way around,” Elijah said, his eyes wandering down Rowan’s

body. “But maybe I have all I want right here. Claim me. Now.”

Rowan took a breath. Elijah’s rich musk intoxicated him, and the omega’s heart beat faster. His

voice hinged on desperation, and he hardly ever sounded like that. He was doing this to distract them
both from the matter at hand, but that damn temptation beckoned.

“That’s what you want?” Rowan asked and searched his mate’s face and emotions for the real

answer. Was this his way of forgetting what they ran from?

Elijah’s lips brushed Rowan’s collarbone, and his skin melted at the touch.
He gripped Elijah’s shoulders, slipping the shirt lower until it pooled on the floor. His cock

pounded with anticipation of what was to come.

Claim Elijah – he honestly never knew if he’d get the chance. The alpha inside clawed at him for

such a tantalizing opportunity. Begged him to give in. Fighting the beast never ended well. He needed
to be one with the animal. Like Maxim.

A hot, velvety tongue brushed his nipple, and he hissed in response.
“Yeah, this is what I want,” Elijah said, his hands moving over Rowan’s broad chest. “Fuck me

until I can’t think straight. Then we can talk about what we have to do.”

“Romantic sentiment,” Rowan growled, though his body couldn’t argue. Lust raged through

every nerve in his being. They both needed this last moment before they faced the real world and all
those annoying problems in it.

Elijah pulled Rowan’s nub with his front teeth, playing the tip of the nipple with his tongue.

“You know me, I’m all about romance. Tell me how much you love me. How’s that?”

Anything Rowan said now would be dismissed as part of their little game – a flippant reply to

one of Elijah’s cool remarks. When Rowan didn’t answer, he felt Elijah’s shoulder’s tense, briefly,
before his mouth wandered lower.

Damn. He could use that luscious mouth on his cock right now, but Rowan had other plans. He

pulled Elijah up and kissed him full on the mouth. The heat of those lips burned, his body an inferno
of desire.

“I love you,” Rowan breathed. “Tell me you love me, or I won’t fuck you.”
Elijah’s bottom lip trembled, his eyes wide. “You know how I feel.”
True. Their emotions bounced off each other, bound them together, but the words would be nice

for once.

“Say it,” Rowan growled, gripping Elijah’s shoulders.
“I love you,” Elijah said so softly the alpha almost didn’t hear. Elijah’s cheeks burned.
Rowan smiled. “How do you want it?” It was all he could do to keep from ripping those pants

from Elijah’s hips. He slid them off instead.

“I’ll let you choose. I trust you,” Elijah said and kicked the pants to the side.
Trust. Look at how far they’d come from being at constant odds with each other, to putting their

lives in each other’s hands.

He gripped the omega’s supple ass, the skin hot to the touch, and smiled. He picked up Elijah,

gripping the man’s thighs, and carried him to the bed. They fell into it, a tangle of lips and limbs.

“I want to see your face every second I claim you,” Rowan growled, his flushed length nudged

Elijah’s.

They both moaned.
Thank Yue Elijah set the bottle of lube on the nightstand. Rowan grabbed it, ripping off the

plastic with his teeth, and poured the slick substance over his hand. He’d learned it was better than oil,
though just as messy.

Elijah, never one to sit still, coated Rowan’s cock with eager fingers, then rolled his hips,

providing access to his ass.

Rowan stared. The omega was really giving in. No more weakness. No more defiance of every

alpha he met.

Elijah Kane, the terrifying assassin, trusted him.
Loved him.
And the thought of betraying that trust never even occurred to Rowan. It couldn’t happen now.

Not when they were mates.

He slipped a thick digit inside slowly. Elijah flinched, and his body eased around it. Rowan’s

body responded to the touch in turn. Having a mate made every sensation that much richer – that much
better.

Everything else paled in comparison.
His lips pressed into Elijah’s thigh, brushed the tip of his weeping cock, and he slid a second

finger beside the first. The omega’s musk surrounded him, thick and sweet, and he fought the urge to

consume Elijah.

“I’m ready,” Elijah panted, and Rowan leaned up.
His cock ached as he nudged it inside. The tight space screamed, his body burning in response.

How the hell did Elijah handle these two warring pleasures, ripping him in two? Rowan breathed
deeply through his nose, a groan catching in his throat.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Elijah. The omega’s mouth parted, his cheeks flushed. He gripped

Rowan’s thighs until his nails left little crescent shapes in the skin. His legs hooked around Rowan’s
hips, so he could take the entire length of Rowan’s cock inside.

He’d always been beautiful, but Rowan never saw him this vulnerable – this willing to

surrender.

“I love you,” he moaned as he hit Elijah’s sweet spot.
Elijah gasped, his eyes popping open. “I said to fuck me. Hard.”
The alpha couldn’t be denied. He thrust into the slick pleasure, watching the delicious sensation

dance over his mate. When his cock brushed that wonderful spot, the jolt of desire was so strong he
almost spilled his load.

With their positions reversed, everything was different. Rowan’s skin buzzed. His body begged

for more.

Elijah rolled his hips, trembling and eager for every new entrance. His length curled to his

stomach. The pressure for release built, shoving every thought from Rowan’s mind.

When this was over they’d have to face reality.
If only it could last forever.
With a final thrust, the orgasm thundered through them. All the emotions bundled in his being

shot free.

Elijah gasped, his come spilling over his glorious stomach.
Rowan’s own spilt inside his mate. His cock twitched as it emptied. In that act of release, the

knotted worry and guilt trickled away.

They both knew what they had to do. Now they just had to do it.
Elijah relinquished his hold, and threw his forearms over his eyes. His chest heaved, sweat slick

and perfect.

Rowan stared at his mate for a long moment before he pulled himself free.
After he cleaned them both up, he sat on the bed next to Elijah. They could sleep and talk later.

Bask in this moment as long as life would allow.

But time wasn’t on their side.
Elijah took a dramatic breath. “I’m dead.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Your handler thinks you’re dead?”
“So does yours,” Elijah said and opened one eye. Rowan figured Elijah had been snooping

around the CIA database while he was out. “We’re both dead. Free. Which means we don’t have jobs,
unless you want to go back and work for an agency that wants to kill me.”

Take commands from Colonel Greer. Get talked down to by Thompson? Hell fucking no. The

alpha couldn’t stand for that kind of shit now. The entire life he’d built as a human was in tatters, and
ripping it to shreds had been the best thing that ever happened to him.

“No. What about you?”
Elijah pouted. “Unless I show up alive and well, I won’t get paid for offing Banik. After all that

trouble too.”

Rowan’s stomach grumbled, but he didn’t move to get the cold food. He wasn’t going to eat

until this discussion was finished. “You’re not going back?”

Giving Elijah orders or an ultimatum wouldn’t work. The omega needed to make up his own

mind. After everything Elijah had done, Rowan trusted he’d make the right decision in the end. He’d
made all the right ones so far.

Almost.
“I’m good at my job. Some people – really terrible people – deserve to die. You know it, and I

know it, but only some of us are willing to get our hands dirty.” Elijah said and propped himself on his
elbows. His brows furrowed.

“We have to go back,” Rowan said. He felt it in his mate’s heart. It beat as loudly as his own.

The truth dawned on him before they left, but neither of them had been willing to face it.

Not this truth.
Elijah pursed his lips. “I know! It’s my fault, and I’m going to fix it. Maxim will fucking love

that. And Kamil. Shit. I’ll only help get rid of that evil bastard if Maxim pays me.”

Rowan smiled. He didn’t believe his mate’s conditions. Not one bit. “So when do we leave?”
Elijah’s expression grew distant. “If we want to take out the Butcher, we’ll need help. There’s

only one assassin I know of who’s better than me. I need to make a phone call. I need to Call Si.”

Simeon. Elijah was talking about his brother.
Rowan leaned down and kissed his mate’s worried brow. “When are you going to call him?”
“After we eat, shower and have another round. I think we should try it against the wall. We need

to soak up these modern conveniences while we can. Old One territory is a bitch.”

Rowan laughed. He couldn’t agree more.

Omega in the Light

Lost Wolves Book Two

Coming Summer 2014

Simeon Kane’s only focus is the job – killing who he’s told when he’s told. Then he meets a subdued

alpha who throws his entire world out of balance, an alpha Simeon is supposed to assassinate.

Can he rise above years of training and give in to desire?

Zoe’s Books

Westside Wolf Pack

Crash (Westside Wolf Pack 1)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-crashwestsidewolfpack1-1225909-340.html

Ben Singer, an omega werewolf, has been in love with his former best friend and the alpha scion of
their wolf pack, Axel, from the time they were teenagers. Ben thought they were mates, but the rules
of their pack kept them apart.

Axel Cross is a fuck-up. The sexy tattooed wolf threw away his chances of ever becoming pack alpha
at seventeen, and Ben has no idea why.

When Axel’s uncle kicks Ben out of their Pittsburgh pack, it’s the chance the omega has been waiting
for. Then Axel demands to accompany the smaller wolf. The only problem is Ben wants to run away
for good. But Axel doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He’s determined to go with Ben, even if the omega
doesn’t want him around.

While desire stirs between Axel and Ben, years of heartache haunt them. Can the alpha and omega let
go of their past and the old pack in order to find a bright new future together?

Burn (Westside Wolf Pack 2)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-burnwestsidewolfpack2-1337922-340.html

Quinton Santos and Gage Varela are the only remaining wolves from the once great Westside pack. As
a dangerous threat resurfaces, they need an alpha to lead their pack. But Gage and Quinton are only
beta wolves. Even worse, they can hardly stand each other.

Gage knows the rich and arrogant Quinton is his mate. While giving into his desire for the beautiful

man is easy, Gage isn’t about to fall in love.

Quinton used to be confident, but the fire that killed his family left scars deeper than those on his skin.
He knows Gage is the stronger wolf, and he’s worked hard to prove he’s not weak. But no matter what
Quinton does, Gage only sees him as rich and useless.

After years of hurt, can Gage and Quinton let go of the darkness in the past and forgive enough to fall
in love?

Break (Westside Wolf Pack 3)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-breakwestsidewolfpack3-1387025-340.html

Being an omega sucks. Luca Collins should know. His pack mistreats him, his dad doesn’t care about
him, and bullies make his life hell. Enter Colton Smith, the kind hearted human who befriends Luca.

While Luca is sure Colton’s his mate, that belief is shaken when a group of wolf hunters attack Luca's
pack -- a group Colton belongs to. Proof that humans and wolves don’t mix. Luca flees town and ends
up in the clutches of a sadistic alpha.

When they meet again, Colton’s a wolf, and Luca is hiding in a shell, broken into a thousand different
pieces from countless abuse. Can they overcome the secrets that tore them apart and find the love they
once shared?

Haven City Series

Rogue Wolf: Shadow Scars (Haven City Book 1)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-shadowscarsroguewolfbookone-1044938-145.html

Conner, a rogue wolf and murder detective, isn't looking for a lover when he moves to Haven City. He
wants to solve crimes and keep to himself - unable to trust anyone since his pack betrayed him six
years before.

But Seth Alwen, his new partner, is different. He excites the wolf's animal instincts - waking up the
passion Conner buried long ago. Seth's not only beautiful and alluring; he's also haunted by the death
of his former partner. And despite his better judgment, Conner aches to relieve the man of his guilt.

As the two men solve a series of murders, their sizzling attraction overflows into the bedroom. Is the
overwhelming passion just a fling or is it forever?

Rogue Wolf: Alpha’s Shadow (Haven City Book 2)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-alpha039sshadowroguewolfbooktwohavencityseries-
1146745-145.html

Conner Sharp, a rogue wolf and murder detective, was supposed to be an alpha – until his pack
betrayed him and left him for dead. Then he met Seth Alwen, his new partner, and things started

looking up. The beautiful seer lusts after him – even if he keeps an infuriating number of secrets.

But something dangerous is stirring inside Conner. The urges of an alpha wolf he buried years ago are
rising to the surface. Whenever Seth is near, the beast threatens to unleash itself on the man Conner
cares for the most – the man who might be his long lost mate.

While the two men grapple with desire and trust in their relationship, a new murder threatens Haven
City and all her shadow folk. A murder that brings Seth and Conner front and center to a dangerous
necromancer and the one group of people the seer wants to avoid more than anything: his own family.

Rogue Wolf Book Set (Haven City Books 1&2)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-roguewolfbookoneandtwo-1278373-145.html

Contains both Shadow Scars and Alpha’s Shadow.

Black Wolves: Thief (Haven City Book 3)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thiefblackwolvesbookone-1278369-340.html

When Fisk, a cat shifter and thief, is sold into sex slavery, the most dangerous shifter gang in Haven
City buys him: the Black Wolves. Ian Black, the gang's leader and alpha wolf, has plans for Fisk. It's
up to Breaker, the beta, to follow the boss's orders. Breaker doesn't expect to fall for the alluring feline
with the bad attitude. Only Fisk strikes Ian's fancy too, and a beta can't cross an alpha.

Fisk finds himself torn between two very different men - Ian, the sexy alpha and Breaker, the stoic
enforcer. One of the wolves is his mate, but Fisk isn't sure how to handle it. Sex is one thing - love is
something else.

Black Wolves: Alpha’s War (Haven City Book 4)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-alpha039swarhavencityseries4-1440965-340.html

Sebastian knows criminals. He was raised in a family of thieves. But nothing could prepare him for
the charming and dangerous gang leader and alpha wolf, Ian Black.

Since Seb isn’t strong enough to protect himself, he seeks aid from the Black Wolves – the most
infamous shifter gang in the city. While the alpha promises to protect Seb, Ian wants something in
return. Seb has to pretend to be Ian’s sex slave in public.

Only problem is Seb’s straight – or he thought he was. Ian’s insistence tests his resolve at every turn.

As violence explodes throughout the city, desire sizzles between the cat and wolf. But giving into
passion is difficult for Seb who spent his entire life pushing other people away.

Can these two broken men find love in the midst of chaos?

Russian Wolf Pack

Alpha Bait (Russian Wolf Pack 1)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-alphabaitrussianwolfpack-1031959-145.html

Sam grew up next door to a house full of hot as hell Russian brothers, but something about the boys
was always off. After he’s attacked by a huge white wolf as a teenager, Sam leaves the town and his
friends behind.

Seven years later, the death of his parents brings Sam back to his former life. Now he has to deal with
the five sexy brothers all grown up, the return of the huge white wolf and his overwhelming desire for
the gorgeous Russian men. But Yuri, the oldest brother, isn’t happy with Sam’s return. He claims Sam
is wolf’s bait and that he needs the five sexy brothers to protect him from werewolves hell bent on
claiming him as their own.

Will Sam accept their protection at the price of his freedom?

Wild (Russian Wolf Pack 2)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-wildrussianwolfpackbook2-1186296-340.html

When Wild, a lone omega, stumbles into a trap in the woods, a mysterious alpha saves the little wolf
and takes him in. The man cares for Wild’s wounds and offers him a new chance at life. But the sexy
wolf stirs feelings the omega has never experienced – making Wild believe this man is his mate. He
just has to prove it to the alpha first.

Caleb, a great white wolf, lives alone, and he prefers it that way. He doesn’t need a young, lively
whelp keeping him company, no matter how attractive the young man is. Especially when Wild wakes
the need for a mate inside him – a need he buried a long time ago.

With a rival wolf pack hungry for Wild’s blood, and a dangerous hunter on the loose – can Caleb
protect the little omega without giving into his animal instincts and claiming the young man as his
own?

Silver Mountain Wolf Pack

Mate

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-matesilvermountainwolfpack-1041440-340.html

Jake Anderson, a detective, is a lone wolf and he doesn’t want it any other way. When he moves to
Kellogg, Idaho, he’s greeted by the powerful pack that runs the small town. Worse yet, the pack’s
alpha is his new boss – the handsome and rugged Captain Holden Walker. While Jake doesn’t want a
mate, he can’t deny his overwhelming attraction to the alpha – or the needs of the rest of Holden’s
pack. But giving up his body to Holden and his life to a pack isn’t what he has in mind.

Jake knows the truth -- wolves mate for life. But will he aid the Silver Mountain wolf pack or let his
only chance for happiness slip away?

BDSM Novellas

Hurt Me

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hurtme-1060323-147.html

Thomas signs up for a sexual practices study at his university to help pay the bills, only to find the
grad student leading the study is none other than his long lost love, Elliot. The study involves whips,
bondage and levels of pain and pleasure Thomas never imagined he’d enjoy – but every lesson leaves
him longing for more.

As old feelings surface, Thomas struggles to break down the walls Elliot built around himself and find
out the truth about his sudden departure six years before. However, Elliot’s thesis is on the line, and
the closer he gets to Thomas the less he’s able to control his dominant urges.

But Thomas isn’t backing down –- not until the two men take a second chance at first love.

Safeword

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-safeword-1054962-147.html

After Maxwell Price’s lover and sub, Brian, dies of a drug overdose, the Dom sets out to save another
man’s life to atone for his failure to save his boyfriend. Hiro, a young heroin addicted prostitute,
catches his eye. Not only is he gorgeous, the man clearly craves the dominance Maxwell yearns to
give, but will he trust the broken Dom to rescue him?

When the mysterious stranger offers Hiro a chance to get clean, he takes it without hesitation.
Maxwell, his savior, introduces him into the world of BDSM – and Hiro relishes in the pain, pleasure
and control – delighting in his newfound role of sub to the sexy and powerful man.

But Maxwell’s hiding a secret – a dead boyfriend that overshadows their budding relationship. Can
both Dom and sub heal the wounds from their pasts and forge a future together?

Sin for Me

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-sinforme-1052015-145.html

Brother Pío’s spent his entire life in a secluded Spanish monastery where he hides a fearful secret. Not
only is he attracted to men, he also finds pleasure in pain. Instead of offering a path to sanctity, the
thongs of his whip drive him into a flurry of lustful thoughts and desires.

When Brother Matthew, a monk and traveling scholar, arrives he turns Pío’s world upside down. The
man gives Pío the pain and release he needs, but at what cost? As Matthew helps Pío come to terms
with his conflicted feelings, their relationship gives way to danger when the other monks grow
suspicious.

However, Matthew can’t remain in Son Rullan forever forcing Pío to choose where his loyalties lie:
with the Church or with his lover?

Chains Bind Us (BDSM Novella Set)

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-chainsbindus-1374819-166.html

Contains Hurt Me, Safeword and Sin for Me.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Zoe Perdita writes gay shifter romance because the only thing better than one hot werewolf dude is
two hot werewolf dudes making out. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with a fluffy orange cat and a
lively roommate. When she's not writing, Zoe likes to travel, read and play video games.

Let Zoe know what books you like by leaving reviews. It gives her an idea what she should write next!

Join Zoe’s New Release mailing list for updates on her latest books:

http://www.zoeperdita.com/p/join-my-mailing-list.html

You can read her blog at:

http://www.zoeperdita.com/

Visit her on Facebook at:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003485203540

Check out her Author Page on Goodreads:

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5877921.Zoe_Perdita

Email her at:

ZoePerdita@gmail.com

Or follow her on Twitter @ZoePerdita

Check out the rest of Zoe’s work at All Romance:

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/storeSearch.html?searchBy=author&qString=Zoe+Perdita

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away

to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional

copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for

your use only, then purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole
or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented,
including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information or retrieval system, is
forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book.

All characters in this book are fictional and are not based on any real people. They are figments of the

author’s imagination.

Document Outline

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen

Wyszukiwarka

Podobne podstrony:
In The Shadow of the Day
Dreamcatcher 2 Ben in the Shadows
Aislinn Kerry In the Shadow of the Sun
The Rasmus In The Shadows
Scott G Gier Genellan 02 In the Shadow of the Moon
Justice in the Shadows Radclyffe
Żyto, Kamila Film in the Shadow of History Józef Lejtes and Polish School (2015)
In the Shadow of Her Sister
The Rasmus In the shadows
Midnight Secrets of Shadow The Death That Comes in the Night
John Barth Lost in the Funhouse (ssc)
In these promises broken, deep below each word gets lost in the echo by Witness
Lost in the Deep Gaby A
Amelia Atwater Rhodes Den of Shadows 01 In the Forests of the Night
lost in the stars Kurt Weill sheetmusic partition
Szent Györgyi A , Lost in the Twentieth Century, 1963
Lost in the stars Kurt Weill
Lost in the Future John Victor Peterson

więcej podobnych podstron

Zoe Perdita Omega in the Shadows (Lost Wolves #1)

Document Outline