He smiled, showing off wicked-looking teeth too sharp for a human. “So, you are a defective one?”
His bald statement made me flinch. “I’m not sure if I think I’m defective, just different. How about you?” Putting the length of the room between us, I felt marginally better. Where was Slater, and the other man? Surely he wasn’t still out, unless the other man had...no, I stopped the thought before it could take root. My heart would cease beating if he were no longer on this earth.
He stalked me like the predator he was. His gait was heavier on one side, showing a slight limp, I registered. I’d been in my wolf form for twenty years and was no stranger to being the predator. I squared my shoulders. I was not a pushover and wanted to kick my own ass for allowing myself to act like one.
Bar’s eyes narrowed, and then he inhaled. “You don’t want to battle me. If we break anything, the mistress will be most displeased.”
I did a quick study of the room I’d not been allowed to enter, except for a few times as a child, and snorted. The furniture screamed money, but none of it was original. I wasn’t sure how I knew it was expensive, but an inherent knowledge said it was. Lifting my shoulders, I stood behind a tall chair. “I will not submit to you. I have a mate.”
“Your mate is dead,” he growled.
To my right, the fireplace I’d always imagined hanging a stocking beside stood. To my left was the large picture window, with its garish coverings. My only exit. A painful one if I were to launch myself through it. Stay and fight, banged at my skull from my wolf.
The giant of a man stepped closer. His entire form seemed to be bulging with muscles. Every inch of him screamed danger, from the sharp teeth of his wolf to the flashing eyes of the beast gone mad.
I decided I’d try to reason with him. “Truly, I’m no good as a plaything. I fight back and bite.” I snapped my teeth together. My human canines were obviously not nearly as impressive.
Just before he could reach for me, I sidestepped, his massive arms missing me by inches. I used my smaller size to outmaneuver him. Goddess, if he got his hands on me, I’d be in trouble.
“Ah, I see you are still too slow to catch your prey.” Bianca sauntered in. Bar growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You said I could play with her.”
Nodding, Bianca crossed to him. “After I take her to see mother, I’ll let you have what’s left of her.”
That so didn’t sound promising. Well, I had news for them—I was not going to roll over and show them my belly.
Bianca reached out to snag my arm, but I jerked away. “I will come willingly,” I snarled, a little of my wolf coming to the surface.
“Interesting.”
“Stay calm, love. I am coming for you.” Slater’s deep rumble soothed me as nothing else could.
“Fine, let’s go. Make no mistake,” she snarled, glaring down at me with all her teeth. “I’ll gladly knock you out and have Bar carry you up. Imagine all the things he will gladly do to your sleeping form.”
Do not let her see you tremble.
We climbed the stairs, the same ones I’d once tiptoed down as a child. My throat clogged with emotion. On the third level, the one where my parents’ room had been, we stopped. I worked to pretend the place didn’t affect me.
“This place is huge. Like, seriously, big. Out in Cali, it would cost you a mint.” I looked left and right, pretending to be enthralled.
“She will know if you are a close relative or not.”
Who this mysterious woman was, I had no clue, but the closer we got to the main bedroom, the deeper doom settled in my gut. The door was the same as when my parents lived there. The large, curved wood would be too thick for them to hear my screams from the floor above, if they cared.
The ornate door handle turned. The quiet snick seemed overly loud to my ears. I forced myself to breathe in and out. Crap, I hoped they couldn’t hear my knees shaking.
Inside, my gaze went to the bed, then drifted around the room, taking in the changes. My mother had kept the family’s dark, heavy furniture, handed down through the centuries. Now, the feminine pieces looked too small for the big room. Insubstantial, except for the woman propped up in the bed.
It took all my will to keep from gasping at the crone—the old woman who’d made my life a living hell. Only she didn’t look quite as old as I remembered. But her scent. I would never forget the way the woman smelled. To this day, I couldn’t stand the scent of oranges. The very sight or smell of them made me gag.
“Bring her closer, Bianca dear.” The woman motioned with her hand. The hand didn’t look quite as wrinkled as I remembered, either.
“You look just like RozLee,” she gasped. “What is your name?” she demanded.
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I opened my mouth, then closed it. “LeeLee O’Neil.” I used Slater’s last name. As his mate, it seemed fitting.
A hand snaked out, grabbing the front of my shirt, bringing me closer to her face. “Who are your parents?”
“My father is Rasmund Masters.” He was the man who raised me, cared for me, and made sure I had a place to belong for the last twenty years.
