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GRIFFIN
“Where did it come from?” Cassian asked in an authoritative voice as if Morgan would listen to him. She wasn’t a member of his pack and couldn’t care less about his demands.
I had to admit, the whole thing was eerie. None of us could understand where the object came from. It was out of Morgan’s reach, and no one had been up there besides the four of us—Ember had been with Morgan the entire time, even after I stepped away to talk with Emily.
So, where the hell did that… thing come from? And what the hell was it?
Asking Morgan got us nowhere. She refused to tell us anything, pretending to be oblivious. Hell, maybe she was, but if she really was connected to Samara—which I’ve finally come to terms with—then she knew what it was and how it got there, right?
We tried asking Morgan why she had helped Samara and tried to kill Emily. But again, we got nothing. We asked her what Samara had planned. Nothing.
When had she changed? I’d always known Morgan to be difficult and even a little off-putting. She was bitter and resentful by nature, but somewhere in that gloomy exterior was a woman who was loyal—and when she cared about someone, she meant it.
Or so I thought.
This woman in front of me wasn’t the Morgan who’d saved me from dying when I left my pack. That Morgan might have been guarded, but she wasn’t cruel. She was just… lonely. Misunderstood.
Like me.
Maybe that was why we got along so well—we understood each other. Somewhere along the line, that had developed into attraction and affection on Morgan’s end, and when Emily appeared, she felt threatened.
I wasn’t oblivious, contrary to everyone’s belief. I figured she’d get over it eventually, but apparently, I was wrong. She told me she was over it, and then directly went on to kill my mate—or try to. Not that that technicality made it any better.
But was this whole mess seriously a jealous attempt to get Emily out of the picture? She’s working with the same woman who made the curse that I suffer from every night. She knows how strong the mate bond is for wolves, how much it would kill me to lose Emily.
Yet she was willing to risk it all over her stupid jealousy? If she truly loved me, be it as a friend or more—she wouldn’t want to put my well-being at risk.
Then again, she did poison me with wolfsbane.
Frustrated with the lack of answers—and the lack of remorse—fire flickered from Emily’s palms, a heated glow spreading to her fingers and thumb. She grabbed Morgan’s arm through the bars, and Morgan shrieked as Emily seared her skin with the fire burning from her hands. Not letting up, she asked Morgan in a slow, calculated tone, “What is Samara planning?”
Emily released her arm and stepped back, waiting for an answer.
Morgan glared at her, clutching her burned skin. “Fuck you!” She spat at Emily’s feet, and contempt filled her eyes.
Emily stepped closer once more, flames bursting from her palms as she swiped her hand through the air, the flames extending like a whip, smacking Morgan’s face. An extensive red line appeared down her face where the fire hit, but she didn’t scream out that time. Instead, she gripped her cheeks, staring Emily down.
Morgan closed her eyes and laughed—a low cackle that sent a chill through my spine.
She turned to face us, glaring at Emily, and pointed to the object. In a cheery voice, she sang out, “It’s a puzzle box. Have fun solving it.”
“What kind of puzzle?” Emily asked, but Morgan ignored her. Flames rose from her palms, and she held them out in a technique of intimidation. Again, she demanded, “What kind of puzzle?”
When Morgan refused to answer, Emily tortured her some more, sending her fire to wrap around Morgan’s arm.
She cried out in pain, and I stepped forward, grabbing Emily’s arm to stop her. “Enough.”
Emily looked at me with her eyes tainted by rage. She didn’t like me pulling her away from tormenting Morgan, but she took it too far. I knew Morgan tried to hurt her, and I was just as pissed, but I didn’t want to see her tortured. For a while, she was my closest—my only—friend. She’d helped me when I was at my lowest, and seeing her being burned was too much to take.
Pissed, Emily stormed off. Cassian muttered, “I’ll take care of her. You deal with Morgan,” and he left after her.
Once we were alone—aside from Ember, who was silently waiting in the back corner of the room—I faced Morgan for the first time since we’d captured her. I mean, really faced her, head on, for the first time since I’d betrayed her.
And I did betray her. I saw the confused look on her face when I’d sided with Cassian’s pack over her. The look of disgust, I should say.
But it needed to be done. As much as I hated to admit it, she was working for the enemy and could no longer be trusted. At the same time, a part of me wanted to believe that she still had a glimmer of hope left within.
“Morgan,” I said in a soothing tone. “Please, tell me what’s going on. Why did you do it? Why did you side with Samara?”
