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“No, it’s not that,” I lie through my teeth.
"Then what is it?" she challenges, her emerald eyes practically glowing. Her heart pounds out a rapid, staccato rhythm, and I realize she likes our verbal sparring as much as I do. My gaze is drawn to the side of her neck, my wolf baring his teeth when we see her pulse thrumming against her delicate skin.
I clear my throat, raising an eyebrow in challenge “Know your enemy. Sun Tzu and all that.” I’m not sure that she’s buying this, but she doesn’t say anything. “Let’s start with the basics. I already told you my name. Now, what is yours?”
She studies me, her calculating green eyes flashing with what looks like delight at a new game.
“Salem,” she finally answers.
“Fitting,” I murmur, though I don’t know that she heard it. She’s bewitching alright.
“I’m from California,” Salem continues slowly, testing the waters. “I was born in Santa Monica but I’ve been living in Los Angeles since I was eighteen. Your turn.”
“I was born and raised here. My father was the King and Alpha before me and his father before him and so on and so on. Do you like California?”
“It’s all I’ve ever really known.”
“Same.”
We study each other warily, like two gunslingers. I try to think of something else to say.
“Any siblings?”
“No.”
“Me either. What about your parents?”
Green eyes flicker with a sadness so deep I can hardly breathe. “My mom was my best friend,” she whispers, looking away from me. “She died from breast cancer when I was twelve.”
“I’m sorry,” I say honestly, though I know the words are inadequate. How stupid am I to try and comfort the woman I threw into a cell? My words mean fuck-all if my actions don’t line up.
She shrugs, wrapping her arms around her torso to protect herself from her own confession. Jesus, I hate seeing her like this, so I try to move on.
"What about your father?"
"He was a piece of shit," she snarls, angrily wiping a tear off her puffy red cheek.
My eyebrows rise. I’m surprised by the venom in her voice, but even more so by my reaction to it. I’m on edge, ready to jump in and fight her battles.
“How so?”
Her lips press into a thin line as she uncrosses her arms, curling her hands into fists at her sides. For a moment, I don’t think she’s going to answer me, but then she mutters, “He was a mean drunk.”
My wolf howls in my chest, hating everything that simple statement implies. I fucking hate it too. “Did he…?” I can’t even finish the thought, too worked up to form the words.
My little prisoner shrugs, then nods her head, though she never stops looking at her feet. “Yeah. He used to knock my mom around a lot. The first time he laid hands on me at five years old, my mom bundled me up and left that night. Stayed in a shelter for a bit until she got back on her feet. But then…” The beautifully broken woman trails off, shrugging again.
“But then she passed away,” I finish for her. She looks up at me, green eyes rimmed in red, tears freely falling down her cheeks. She’s so goddamn gorgeous, so heart-achingly pure and vulnerable. I’m having a hard time remembering why she’s up here instead of in my bed.
“I moved back in with him after the funeral,” she whispers. I hang on her every word as they pour from her lips. “The first few years were… rough.”
She winces at the memory of them, and that protective streak from earlier slices through me, making me and my wolf snarl. The woman widens her eyes at me, and I make a concentrated effort to calm the fuck down.
“I’m so sorry you went through all of that,” I tell her in my smoothest voice possible. It still sounds like a metal weight being thrown into a wood chipper, but I can’t help it.
“My dad met Helen when I was sixteen. He wanted to be the perfect family man for her, so he started buying me nice things, taking me out to eat, and treating me better in general. I tried warning Helen about his violent streak, but she told on me. My dad kicked me out the next day for slandering his name. Can you believe that?”
"Unforgiveable," I grit out, swallowing back the acid in my throat. I have no clue what the future holds for me and my little prisoner, but one thing is sure. Her father will be getting a visit from the King of Laurel soon so he can experience what it's like to have someone stronger beat the shit out of him. If he's lucky, I'll leave him alive.
