Page 12 of The Kill

I wait for him to continue, but he remains stubbornly silent.

“And who, or what, are Seth and Lucian?” I need to know not only for my sake but for Noah’s. Every person who knows I’m here, who Tyson confides in, is another potential leak back to my former pack about my whereabouts. And Noah’s.

Tyson gestures for me to sit in the dark velvet chair beside me, but I move to the ornate fireplace instead, warming my hands by the flames at my back, and wait for him to explain.

“Seth is a wolf shifter, just a pup really, probably around Noah’s age. He’s just stuck. He never shifts back, and he’s not used to people. His manners might leave something to be desired. But he’s a good kid, he’s just been through some tough times.”

I have a teenage son, so I already know that I can deal with a sullen, bad-tempered wolf. That’s just a normal day. Breathing in through my nose and steeling myself for the answer I know is coming, I close in on Tyson again.

“And Lucian, Tyson? What is Lucian?” I prompt, growing annoyed at his evasiveness.

“He’s a vampire. But, again, he’s just a teenager. Far too smart for his own good and not that keen on telling me where he’s going; but, a good kid deep down, nonetheless. And they have nowhere else to go.”

He looks at me imploringly, and my annoyance falters. What am I going to do? Make two kids homeless, because I’m afraid of strangers?

“If it makes you feel any better, you could definitely take him. And he’s only around at night so you’ll barely cross paths…”

Scoffing at the absurdity of it all, I throw my hands up in the air, and shake my head dramatically. My mate couldn’t be a nice wolf with a steady boring job, one who doesn’t murder people on the regular or come up with devious plans to manipulate people into giving him what he wants.

Is that too much to ask after what I went through with Lee?

“Are there others?” I force myself to ask the question, though I really don’t want to know the answer. Tyson trails off when he sees my expression, his steely gaze hardening.

“There are, sometimes, but I’ve had the witches put up wards so only we can pass through. You’re safe inside.”

Not outside, is the unsaid message.

“What about if I want to go into the woods? To shift and run?” I am a wolf after all. Staying cooped-up indoors will slowly drive me crazy. Especially when I’m already a captive of sorts with Tyson in the first place.

“Then you go with me.”

His answer is simple, yet makes this house feel like a jail, like I’m an inmate rather than a guest. We glare at each other, both knowing that no wolf will accept that curtailment of their freedom.

“Sounds like I’m your prisoner.”

Tyson’s eyes flash red at my comment as he steps into my personal space.

“I’m surprised I’m not in handcuffs.”

When I lift my arms, wrists pressed together, he growls, low and husky, gripping my hands and pulling them apart.

“No, but you are my responsibility. And I will lock you up if it keeps you alive.” His tone is possessive, full of self-assured authority, and my belly swoops as my fists clench in anger. “Do it for Noah, not me, if that makes you feel better.”

The light coming in through the windows continues to fade as we stand there, locked in a battle of wills until I reluctantly nod. I’ll do what I’m told for the moment, the fear of what’s lurking outside making me cave. There’s no point in winning the battle to lose the war.

Tyson frowns, his expression morphing into one of regret. It appears my concession didn’t bring him the satisfaction he expected. He opens his mouth, but I’m too exhausted to fight with him. To fight our bond goes against every instinct in me, to keep him at a distance, to not give my mate what he wants. I’m done. If I was braver, I might even admit to myself that I’m disappointed this moment hasn’t gone better.

Was I foolish for hoping for a warmer welcome than, You’re not allowed to go anywhere without me; and if you don’t like it, tough? Sighing, my shoulders sag as the reality of my situation dampens my mood. Not that I was hugely optimistic about how this would go to begin with.

“Can you show me to my room? It’s been a long day.” It’s far too early to go to bed, but I’m beyond caring about being polite.

Tyson frowns. “Are you not hungry? I …” When I glare at him, he presses his lips together in a thin line. “Fine,” he mutters.

My chest aches seeing the defeated way he steps back and turns away from me, expecting me to follow without saying a word. We climb the stairs in silence, then down the corridor to where he opens a door for me once more. Stepping inside, I’m pleasantly surprised to see a beautiful room with fresh linen and flowers on the dresser. I smell them, eyeing him curiously where he lurks in the doorway, fidgeting awkwardly.

“What? Are they not to your liking?” Defensive, he bristles and snaps at me, anger replacing his wounded expression. “Or do you think it's so odd that I would pick flowers for my mate?”

That’s not what I was thinking at all. I was thinking what a sweet gesture it was, but he’s mad at me before I even say a word. He’s infuriating, presumptuous and too delicious smelling to be true. It’s pissing me off.

---