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“Oui.” She gave a sharp, satisfied nod. “I knew this scarf would bring out the lights in your hair.” She drew Alex to the full-length mirror attached to the back of the closet door. “Black is fine as a base, but add a flash of color and—” She kissed the tips of her fingers, then released them to the sky with a smooching sound. “Very chic.”

“Chic,” Alex repeated. “Right.”

She’d never been chic, would never be chic, did not know what chic meant. But Ella was right. The silly scarf did bring out highlights that Alex hadn’t even known she had.

“Thanks.” Alex’s gaze met the woman’s in the mirror. “It’s nice of you to help me.”

In her experience, people didn’t just help strangers for the fun of it. There had to be something in it for them. She wondered what was in it for Ella.

“It’s my pleasure,” Ella replied, and her expression was pleased. Almost as if she enjoyed making Alex look as nice as she could, just because she could.

“You have a lot of beautiful things.”

“Merci.”

“I wouldn’t think you could find all this way up here.”

“Here?” Ella laughed, the sound throaty, sexy, very French. “Here we would find flannel shirts, Levi’s, snow boots, and parkas. This—” She waved her hand at the full closet. “—is what the Internet is for.”

“You use the Internet?”

“Most of us may be very old, but we have learned to leave our past behind.” She glanced at the bric-a-brac on the armoire. “For the most part. We live in this world now.”

“You call hiding away in the Arctic Circle living in the world?” Alex asked.

“It is the only choice that we have.” Ella left the room, the downward slant of her shoulders making Alex want to slam her own head against the wall a few times until she knocked some sense into herself.

Alex had never had to watch what she said before. For the most part, everything Alex thought came straight out of her mouth. But then she’d never had to interact in polite society. And who would have thought a werewolf village in the middle of the tundra would be considered polite society?

Alex followed Ella to the kitchen, where the woman wiped an already immaculate countertop with an equally pristine cloth.

“I was rude,” Alex began.

“It’s natural to wonder about your new home, but Julian must have told you why we live as we do.”

“So he can be Lord of the Wolves?”

“He is lord of these wolves. And because of that, because of him, we live safely and well. There are hunters out there, Alex. They would shoot you with a silver bullet for no other reason than that you exist, then leave you to burn without a backward glance.”

Alex had nothing to say to that since she had once been one of them.

Chapter 10

Julian tapped on Ella’s door. When she didn’t answer, he went inside.

He found the two women sitting next to each other, fine china espresso cups near at hand. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were poring over French fashion magazines.

What the hell?

“Problem, Julian?” Ella didn’t even look up from the magazine. She’d probably heard him come in the door. Hell, she’d probably heard him walking up the street.

Alex on the other hand, leaped off the chair so fast she set

it rocking back and forth; it would have fallen if Ella hadn’t reached out a slim, lovely hand to stop it.

“You—you just walk into anyone’s house whenever you like?” she demanded.

“I knocked.” Even to his ears, the words sounded defensive. “You were too busy with—” He waved his hand at the magazines, which were French and fashionable. Of all the things he might have expected Alex to be doing, this was not one of them.

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