The map leads me to a hallway I’ve never explored. The air here is heavy, the stones older than the rest. I find the narrow stairwell from the map and descend into what feels like the belly of the cliff. The air turns cold, musty. There’s a small room, and a heavy steel door looms at the bottom. Across from it, a desk draped in cobwebs lined with moth-eaten scrolls and forgotten books.
My fingers curl around the iron handle on the door and I pull. It groans open, scraping dust off the stone tile as I step inside. My skin prickles. The air is thick, like it hasn’t been disturbed in years. A shaft of light slices down from a high window, spotlighting the altar at the center of the dark chamber.
The dust shifts around my feet. The air smells like ancient stone and … blood.
There’s a dark smudge on the altar.
“Roman?” I call. But as I glance around, I notice I’m alone. My footsteps are the only sound echoing in the empty room. The scent of old blood grows stronger. They sacrificed here and didn’t even bother to clean it up. Why would Roman want to show me this?
I glance at the map again trying to make sure I got the place right, only the handwriting asking me to meet him here is not Roman’s. It’s too… scripty. If I wasn’t in such a rush, I would have noticed. I step forward, spying the blood. There’s something written there.
I take another step closer.
‘Die Bitch’
It is written in blood, and I can smell it’s rabbit blood. Not human. The door slams shut behind me.
This was a setup. I run back, trying it. Locked.
Son of a bitch.
I slam my fists against the metal and pry at the handle. It doesn’t budge.
Then, giggles. Cruel, high-pitched, fading up the stairs. Those females from the hallway. They planned this. I dared to think finding (or avoiding finding) a mate would be my biggest issue. Now, those jealous bitches are preventing me from even trying.
I pace like a caged animal, leaving track marks in the dust. Fury bubbles hot in my veins. They want to take this from me. They want me to give up.
Maybe I should.Is this what I want?If I’m not in the temple and don’t find my mate, I can stay with Roman for one more year. Then the mysterious man who smelled delicious last night can find someone else.
He’s out there. Right now. Probably blindfolded in a room full of desperate females, and someone else could be touching him, pressing close, whispering sweet nothings. That thought elicits rage inside me. My claws clicking into place, the wolf inside me itching to break free.
Mine.
Those scents are mine. My family. My memories. A snarl rips through me. No. That mate is mine. The wolf inside me howls, breaking free in a flurry of fur.
I launch myself at the door, shoulder first. It groans. But holds.
I back up again, breath coming in hot gusts, and run harder, slamming my flank into it with every ounce of strength in me.
Ipounce back farther against the far wall and run at the door. I’m throwing all my might into it when it swings open and I tumble through the doorway and crash into the filthy shelves, bringing them down with me in a cloud of dust. My head stings from where the shelves whack me on the head. I sneeze as surprise shifts me back to my human skin.
When the cloud of grime settles, Dove’s holding the door handle, hazel eyes wide and lips parted in horror.
“Ember?” She gasps. She has the nerve to look surprised, as if she and her pals didn’t plan this.
I rise, body shaking with rage and exertion, “Change of heart?”
“I … I didn’t know.”
“Do me a favor,” I growl, brushing dust off my arms, “choose a mate close to your new friends.”
“I didn’t…” She starts toward me, palms out, guilt flooding her face. Her lip tucked under her teeth like she’s holding back tears.
But I’m already storming past her up the steps. There’s no more time. Tonight’s trial is starting already, and no one takes what’s mine, never again.
Chapter 13
THORN
