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I squeeze his hand, and lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. I have this horrible feeling that there’s more going on here than I realize—in fact, I’m sure of it—but there’s nothing I can do as Grant takes him by one arm, Will by the other. Elijah doesn’t make any attempt to get away, the plain sweats Reyes gave him falling over the tattoo once again.
I open my door to find Reyes just outside, talking to a man who looks almost just like him—but more slender, a little tanner, and with none of the grey in his hair. He turns toward me, and his eyes go wide. He takes a halting step forward.
Something in me crumbles.
I feel like I’m going to cry.
Because I can sense that this is my family, people that I never even knew existed. Mateo takes another steps toward me, then we’re walking toward each other, and he gives me a hug. I’ve never hugged anyone other than Gran, Pa, and now Elijah…but it feels like I’ve met this person before.
“It’s been so long,” he says as he pulls away, grasping me by the shoulders. “You look just like your mom.”
Gran has said that too. My eyes fill with tears, and I don’t try to stop them.
“We’ve met before?” I say.
He laughs through the tears, swiping at his eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “I held you when you were a baby, before they…well, we should talk.”
“I agree,” I say. “And my Gran and Pa?”
Reyes smiles gently. “They’re right inside,” he says. “Now let’s get you inside—you must be hungry.”
“What about Elijah?” I ask.
“We’ll take care of him,” he says. “Don’t you worry.”
And for some reason, I trust him.
So I walk through the crowd of curious lycans, and into the den.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
?
ELIJAH
I say goodbye to Charlotte, knowing I might not ever see her again.
Because she’s about to find out exactly what a horrible person I am.
The Austin wolves’ friendliness shifts as soon as Charlotte is taken away, and I’m hauled into the den. I catch sight of a few nervous people who practically run away from me when they see me; I guess word travels fast.
They know what I am, and I scare the hell out of them.
The blonde lady is the worst of them all, glaring at me the whole time as she stalks down the stone corridors of the den. She flings a door open and the men on either side of me toss me inside. I scramble onto the cot on the opposite wall, keeping my eyes trained on the three of them.
Reyes was the one with the level head, and he’s nowhere in sight.
This isn’t good.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Crusader?” the blonde demands, pointing on accusatory finger at me. I realize for the first time that she has a British accent; odd, given that there hasn’t been much international travel over the past twenty years.
She takes a step closer like she’s ready to tear me to pieces, but the black guy puts a hand on her shoulder, giving her a warning glance. He’s been quiet this whole time, but I get the feeling he’s the one in charge after Reyes.
“Arden, Reyes doesn’t want him hurt,” he warns. “And that’s not us anyway.”
“Awfully presumptuous of you to say that,” she growls.
“We should hear him out,” the man says. He runs a hand over his short, coiled hair, then crosses his arms and looks down on me. “What’s your name, stranger?”
