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Only one shifter in the office set-up is seated. With a window at his back, a broad mahogany desk stretched in front of him, and his feet propped up on the edge as he leans lazily in his deep, leather chair, Ryker commands the council’s complete attention even as he listens intently to whatever it was Shane was saying.
Or, he had.
As soon as the door swings open, every head shoots my way. No one says anything, and if they did, I’m not listening. All of my attention is focused solely on the Alpha now.
Ryker Wolfson is a young Alpha. Only twenty-seven, he’s just coming into his prime, but he’s nothing but strong. Powerful. And, Luna help me, gorgeous. He has the dark gold eyes typical to our kind, with a rich tan that makes them pop. Unlike most shifters, though, he wears his hair cropped short; it looks black, but I know it’s really a rich brown color when he lets it get shaggy. A perennial five o’clock shadow highlights the sharp edge of his jaw while his lush lips provide a hint of softness to a deliciously hard male.
Those lips are pulled in a tight frown when he realizes that it’s me. With a deceptively graceful swivel, he moves his boots from his desk, perching them on the floor as he moves forward in his seat.
Shane Loup is about the same age as Ryker; pack gossip says that he got the Beta position because he’s Ryker’s closest friend. Some of the elders thought Ryker should pick someone with more experience to be his righthand wolf, but Shane accepted the nod when Ryker took over the pack at the beginning of the year.
Since Ryker’s been too busy for me lately—at least, that’s what I thought before tonight’s unexpected conversation with Trish—Shane’s been the one to help me get settled in at Accalia. He’s a nice guy. Easy on the eyes, too, with his dirty blond hair and a pair of cute dimples, but I know better than to think he’s harmless.
He’s devoted to Ryker and the Mountainside Pack, and as if he can sense that trouble’s brewing, he moves to intercept me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, brow furrowed as he starts to cross the room before stopping so suddenly, it’s like someone has yanked his chain. He frowns. “You should go back to your cabin, Gem.”
Yup. Probably should.
I leave the door open behind me and, bringing a smile to my face, I enter the room.
Except for Shane, the crowd parts easily, just like I expect. These wolves masquerading as men respond to me, even if they don’t know why, and it’s not like they haven’t treated me like this since I arrived on the mountain. A little bit reverence, a little bit respect, and a whole lot of keeping their distance.
Of course they do. I’m an omega wolf. I’m a docile lamb. I’m their Alpha’s intended—
Ha.
Shame that not a single one of those is true. And, as I stride toward that desk, I’m so far passed caring about any future repercussions that I let the old illusion slither down my straight spine. I won’t let my wolf out just yet, but I’m done hiding my alpha side.
My flats slap against the tile. As a shifter, I know how to move soundlessly. The noise is purposeful. If the buzz of my aura hasn’t snagged their attention already, the anger in my heavy step certainly will.
The other shifters follow my every move—and not because they’re picking up on the fact that I might be a threat. They won’t. Not yet, at least.
Not until it’s too late.
I know what they see when they look at me. Minimal make-up to highlight my pretty honey-colored eyes and my high cheekbones. The flats that make me seem more petite than I really am. I have my hair styled in loose, flowy curls, though I draw the line at a hair bow these days. I’m even wearing a floral-printed sundress putting just the right amount of leg on display for May. And, sure, it gets pretty chilly on the mountain at night, but shifters usually run hot. Me? I run hotter than most even when I’m not this pissed off. Now? I’m burning up, and a dress like this is exactly what they expect from the type of wolf I’ve spent my whole life passing as.
Everything—from the blonde curls to the dress, right down to the non-threatening flats—is designed to fool their senses. Even my name was picked to be as gentle as possible. Gemma Swann… who can be afraid of a pretty blonde called Gemma Swann?
I’ve been doing this my whole life. When I was too young to understand, my mother hid what I was. Now it’s up to me. No one can know that I’m not an omega like she is, and even though I’m beginning to have a harder time staying in control, I have to remember that.
Good thing I have a lot of practice.
Shifters are unique among supes. We have two souls inside of one form: our human half and our beast. To make their wolves ignore what they can sense about me, I have to make their human halves believe what they see.
I’m a doll. A toy. So very breakable.
By the time they realize I’ve been hiding in plain sight, it’s too late. The claws are already out.
At this very second, I mean that literally.
Now that my steering wheel isn’t in any danger of being destroyed, I let loose my claws. Gone are the short nails painted in a prim shade of dusty rose pink. In their place, three-inch long lethal claws curve around my fingertips, waiting to be used.
But I don’t. Not yet. Not until I hear about his betrayal right from Ryker Wolfson’s lips.
Like I said. I’m not a moron.
“Gemma.” The way that Ryker says my name has always done something to me. He has this raspy voice that washes over me, making me want to curl up and purr like a house cat. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
