There had to be a way for me to get out of this place. Maybe I could make a deal with them, or maybe I could strike up a conversation with one of the demons and convince them that I was on their side. All of a sudden, Harvey looked at me, his eyes so bright that they almost looked like liquid gold. They shimmered for a second as the firelight danced inside them. Even during the day, the cabin seemed to have a certain darkness. The curtains were drawn over the windows, and it seemed like the air was stale, putrid with disdain and isolation—as if nobody had left and nobody had come in.
Yet, while I was locked away in the basement, I had seen and heard plenty of his pack wander through this cabin: his friend Clancy, his other friend, Kirk, and the other two, whom I jokingly called Tweedledee and Tweedledum for the way that they bickered. None of them had come by.
It’s still early. I frowned while squeezing my knees. But goddess, I could use a damn break from all the stomping and man-smell.
Harvey just kept looking at me, and then he cocked his head curiously, dropped his pen on the notebook in front of him, and folded his hands together. “You're thinking of something.”
That accusatory tone made me angry, and at the same time, I was flabbergasted by the fact that he had read me so easily. Nobody could do things like that, nobody who wasn't related to me by blood. Or at least nobody who wasn't Regina.
I traced my knee with the tip of my finger. “Why don't we make a deal?”
His snort sounded like he was amused by my attempt. He opened his palms to show them to me and then folded his hands back together. “Dare I ask what kind of deal you would want to make with someone like me?”
I shrugged. “What if you merged your dwindling numbers with my pack? Then I could go home, and you could get what you want, right?”
“I already told you what I need.”
I didn't like the way his voice edged with agitation. I was just trying to help him. He didn't have to get annoyed with me. I locked my fingers around the front of my shins and hugged myself even harder. “I'm just saying there is strength in numbers.”
“It's impossible. I can't merge my pack with yours.”
“And why can't you do that? We could protect you.”
He looked away for a second to focus on the fire, enhancing the flames that danced in his eyes, turning his irises into such a dashing shade of marigold that it looked like an entire mountain stream lived inside of his eyes.
“The way the ritual is done is to make sure that I can save my pack from damnation.”
I gestured vaguely to his cabin. “I mean, we could have the ritual at my pack ranch. There's no reason why we can’t, right?”
He gave me a funny look, knitting his eyebrows together. “Why do you think I would want to deal with another alpha trying to boss me around?”
“There's not just one alpha. There's two alphas.”
He snorted again. “You've got to be kidding me. What kind of pack has two alphas?”
“My pack. We merged with another pack. They live in the land adjacent to ours, the Bravecrests.”
He seemed to perk up at the sound of that name. “Bravecrests? I thought they got wiped out.”
“No, a lot of them survived. Or at least a good portion of them. Then, they joined our pack, and now our numbers have doubled.”
He adjusted his position in his seat. “Well, I can't imagine your alphas would want anything to do with demon wolves.”
“If the ritual works, then you won't be demon wolves anymore. Will you?”
Concern invaded his expression, turning his eyes dark, driving away the honey color and taking the light right out of them. Doubt had crept in. I could see it in the way his head bowed forward a bit, the way he tried to tuck his chin toward his chest like a dog who was tired of eating scraps off the ground.
“My pack could do more, you know,” I tried to offer, but he didn't seem to want to listen. “I just need to give them a call.”
He looked directly into my eyes without lifting his head. “I don't believe other shifters want to help. What makes you think I would believe that yours would?”
I stood up from the couch and crossed the room. When I got to his desk, I grabbed his hands, holding his calloused palms and feeling the rugged texture of his skin. “My alphas are different. I promise they're different. If you just let me talk to them—”
But he didn't let me finish my sentence as he gripped my hands in his and pulled me toward him, sliding his right hand over the back of my neck. He squeezed just lightly enough to assure me that he had the strength to overpower me. At that moment, something happened to me that had never happened before—a certain excited arousal that thrilled me right down to my knees. I started to wobble and bent toward him to seek steadiness by resting my forehead against his.
What was it about this man that made me want to tear down all of my barriers? To let go of my resolve was reckless.
It’s my fault.