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She turned and stalked from the room.
“Well, shit,” Jessie said, staring after her. “Way to go.”
“I don’t know why I said it.”
“Yeah. You usually don’t. It’s part of your charm.” She shook her head. “Look, Robbie, I know you have questions. Probably a lot of them. And we’re going to answer them. I swear. It’s just….” Her expression hardened as she looked at me. “It’s just a lot to take in right now. We never thought we’d see you again.”
“You’re lying,” I whispered, even though her heartbeat was even.
“I’m not. And you know it. This is your home. We’re your pack.” She took a deep breath. “Thirteen months ago, you were taken from us. Stolen away by the man you call Ezra. His real name is Robert Livingstone, and he took your memories. Of this place. Of all of us. Of the man you love. The man you’re mated to.”
“No,” I told her as the room grew brighter. “No. No. No. That’s not real. None of this is real. You’re lying. You’re all fucking lying. You’re Bennetts. You are the enemy. You are—”
“If I’m lying, then why do you have a mate mark on your shoulder? Mystical moon magic bullshit.”
My hand went to my neck. “Are you out of your goddamned mind? I don’t have a—”
My fingers traced over bumpy scar tissue, ridged and hard.
I turned my head.
There, between my neck and my shoulder, was the imprint of fangs in my skin.
“It was a glamour,” Jessie said quietly. “Gordo was able to destroy it, though he can’t do much more right now, given all the energy he expended in the last week. It’s like it is with the Omegas. He thinks there’s a door. It’s locked, and we don’t have the key.”
My fingers shook as I pressed down into the scar tissue.
“Welcome home, Robbie,” she said as she turned toward the door.
But she stopped with her hand on the doorknob.
Her shoulders were stiff.
She didn’t turn to look at me when she said, “And I know you won’t understand, but I’ve waited a long time to tell you this. If you ever lay your hand on my brother again, it’ll be the last thing you do.”
And then she was gone.
I paced back and forth around the room, looking for weaknesses. There were none.
The line of silver was absolute. The walls were made of thick concrete.
I listened for the sounds of anyone above me, but I heard nothing—not because no one was there, but because there was an absence of sound. The room was soundproof.
It didn’t stop me from yelling until my voice was hoarse.
I sliced the walls with my claws, causing sparks to shoot out around me.
I threw my weight against the line of silver.
I prowled the edges of the room.
“It’s a trick,” I muttered to myself, refusing to look at the mark on my shoulder. “That’s all this is. A trick. They’re trying to trick me. Trying to get in my head.”
And fuck, did it make me angry.
It was while I was making yet another path around the room that I saw it—a blinking light up in the far corner near the ceiling.
A camera.
