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Steam begins to pour through the open doorway, further warming the room. I let my head rest against the wall and drag the covers over my bare chest, listening to the water running in the bathroom and the soft breaths coming from Amora next to me. It’s surprisingly peaceful, even knowing that we aren’t safe here. Not for long, anyway.
When Frost emerges, he leaves the water running and points to Malix. I watch silently as Frost helps himself to a pair of gray sweatpants and a t-shirt in the closet, then he refills his mug and joins me on the bed. He drapes his long body over the foot of the mattress and stares blankly at the wall, cradling his mug between both hands. We fall into the same silence, both of us stealing glances at Amora every few moments, as if she’s going to disappear.
After Malix’s quick shower, it’s my turn, and I almost deny it because I don’t want to leave her side. But the idea of fiery hot water to chase away the painful tingles in my limbs is too tempting to ignore. I make it quick, using the bar of soap on everything, even my hair because I don’t have the time or patience to fuck with the designer shampoo and conditioner laid out on the shower shelf. Then I cut the water, dry off, and find some clothes before I return to the bed.
Silence falls over the room. We watch Amora sleep, polishing off the coffee while we wait for her to wake up. A thin veneer of worry spreads between us, almost tangible through our shadow bond.
I don’t understand it. I don’t know what it means that we’re all still feeling things so intensely for this woman. We’re no longer mates. The spell worked—we all felt it.
So why can’t I leave her side? Why does the sight of her sleeping, vulnerable and soft, make every cell in my body ache to protect her?
There is no more mate bond, I tell myself. Stop fucking focusing on it.
I close my eyes, but she’s still there in my mind.
No matter what I do to convince myself there’s nothing there anymore… I don’t believe my own lies.
* * *
I dozeoff and on through the early morning hours. At one point, I open my eyes to find I’ve slipped down to lie on the pillow beside Amora, our faces close to one another. I study her features in the dim light, tracing every line of her face with my gaze. Her dark pink lips are parted, and her eyelids flicker as if she’s dreaming.
Craning my neck around, I glance at the bedside clock. It’s not quite noon. Malix is asleep on the other side of Amora, and Frost is stretched out across the end of the bed, paging through a magazine he must have found in the cabin somewhere.
When I turn back to Amora, she’s awake.
She looks at me with soft eyes for a moment, and the faintest smile curves up her lips. She’s still half-asleep—eyes hooded, unfocused, breaths slow and easy. And she’s fucking beautiful. Perfect, even. Something squeezes in my chest, and it’s a painful reminder that she’s not mine.
Then she comes into consciousness more fully, and those soft, grass-green eyes harden.
Amora sits up, tugging the covers with her to remain hidden beneath the blankets. Her gaze darts around, noting Frost staring at her from the foot of the bed and Malix coming awake beside her, then our somewhat opulent surroundings. She tugs her feet in and seems to draw into herself, as if being close to us on the bed offends her.
“Where are we?” she asks, her voice still clogged with sleep.
“A cabin in the woods,” I say.
Malix laughs. “Except not the horror movie kind. More like the rich person kind with hot running water and a stash of canned goods that could feed a fucking neighborhood.”
Amora nods, then prods at the raw, red skin around the butterfly bandage near her eyebrow. “Good. I’m famished.”
I sit up and turn to put my feet on the floor, shoving back the blanket I’d been using. “How do you feel?”
Amora shrugs. “Fine. Banged up but alive.”
On her other side, Malix stretches, his feet digging into Frost at the end of the bed, before he says, “You’ll feel better after a hot shower.”
Frost knocks our brother’s feet away and sits up, closing the magazine, his gaze on Amora. “We shouldn’t stay here much longer. Quinton will send wolves after us.”
I grunt my agreement and shove my hands back through my hair as anxiety creeps into the edges of my mind. “Not to mention the fact that Felicity is obviously still sending shadows after us.”
Amora pushes at Malix’s shoulders, shoving him off the bed so she can stand. She takes the blanket with her, wrapping it around her like a toga. “I’ll make it quick, and then I want food.”
Malix pops up from the floor as if being shoved off the bed by a woman is just a normal, everyday occurrence for him.
“But why did the shadow Felicity sent attack Amora?” he asks. “That’s what doesn’t track for me. We’re Felicity’s enemies. She doesn’t even know Amora. So why did the damn thing come onto our pack lands and go after her?”
I’ve already come up with a theory on that, so I let him have it. “Because she’s connected to us.”
Malix raises an eyebrow. The shadow marks on his dark skin waver, rearranging themselves on his flesh. “The mate bond?”
“There is no mate bond,” Amora cuts in, tugging the edge of the blanket out from under my ass. She stalks toward the bathroom, clutching the blanket to her chest. “We aren’t connected anymore.”
Something about the flippant tone of her voice sets off my anger. I stand, my voice sharp in the silent room. “We are connected. Maybe now more than ever.”
Amora stops by the bathroom door, her fingers wrapping around the doorframe as she turns back to roll her eyes at me. “Oh, yeah? How do you figure that? There’s no more mate bond. You made sure of that yourself. Now you’re just a bunch of assholes whose drama I keep getting caught up in.”
“We’re connected,” I repeat, my voice low as I cross the room to her. “We’re connected because you can’t fight the shadows yourself, and if Quinton’s men find you, they’ll kill you.”
I pause in front of her, looming over her with only inches separating us. My heart thuds heavily against my ribs, and it takes every ounce of my willpower not to close the distance and capture her lips with mine. Not to fist her dark hair in my fingers and haul her closer so that she can’t slip away from me again.
“We’re connected.” My voice is hard and flat, the truth spilling from my lips before I can stop it. “Because no matter what happens, I’m not letting you die.”
