Page 14 of The Alpha's Protective Mate

“I see.” Angie plays with my cat’s tail. “It changed everything.”

“What does that mean?”

She looks up at me now, her gaze serious. “The cards make no sense to me.”

She digs into her pocket and brings out three cards, revealing them to me.

I stare at them before looking at her. “These aren’t your usual cards.”

“They’re not,” Angie agrees. “They’re special ones. They’ve been passed down from mother to daughter in my family. I had the urge to use them last night.”

When I turn my attention back to the cards, my stomach turns.

“A scythe, a grave, and the unknown,” Angie murmurs.

My voice shakes as I ask, “Am I going to die?”

A small, surprised laugh escapes her lips. “No. When I took out these cards, I saw a woman with your face in a flowing, emerald dress.”

She touches the card with the grave on it. “This is what I drew when I saw that. Then I saw a river of blood flowing along the streets of Portland. The Death Card. Finally, I saw you standing in the middle of a sea, and I drew the Question Mark Card. It indicates the unknown, that your future is uncertain.”

It’s hard not to panic right now. “None of this sounds good, Angie.”

“Perhaps.” She studies the cards again before packing them away, her voice hard. “But there is something I know for sure.”

“What?” I ask warily.

When she meets my gaze, her eyes are worried. “Something is brewing in Portland, Charlotte, and you’re soon going to be in the center of the storm.”

Chapter 4

Robert Montgomery

“I still don’t understand how you were ambushed so easily!”

I glance at Morris, pacing before me, and raise my brows. “I told you. I had an appointment with an informant. I went to our meeting spot, at the arranged time, and bam, there they were. Do you want me to walk you through it again? Should I write it down for you?”

Morris Wolfguard gives me a scathing look. “No. Don’t bother.”

Seeing my college friend and Alpha of the Wolfguard Pack so frustrated would be entertaining if it weren’t for the serious nature of the situation.

“Harry said it was a vampire who saved your life,” Morris shoots out. “However, we walked down the street, and he didn’t remember the place. None of the clean-up crew do. It’s so odd. It’s almost as if someone messed with their memories. And you can’t remember much, either.”

I look out into the yard. The sun is setting.

It’s not that I don’t remember anything.

I remember a pair of green eyes filled with frustration. I remember a soft touch that set my skin on fire, and the cold, icy scent that could belong only to a vampire. I remember my wolf howling within me, bursting through my skin, and the desire to protect an overwhelming need.

And then there was that pleasure—that sharp, aching pleasure. Someone’s mouth on my neck, gentle hands, and a greedy desire building within me.

I can’t make sense of any of it.

I’ve considered telling Morris all this, but something stops me.

“Magic,” I murmur after a while. “The vampire must have some sort of protection spell on her. That’s why nobody remembers her.”

“Magic?” Morris gives me an incredulous look. “We don’t have witches or warlocks here, remember? They mostly reside in Europe because of the relaxed restraints on them there.”

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