Page 8 of Wolf's Endgame

“We’re not in town.” He kept his voice so low I had to strain to hear him. “There’s a whole other level of fucked up you’re going to have to learn.” His grip tightened. “Try to trust me.” My body jerked at the thought, and he let out a soothing sound. “I know, I know, it’ll come back. I hope.”

He lowered me to my feet, and I staggered. Landon caught me in his strong grip. For the first time in days, I looked at him properly, and had I not been a shell of myself, I would have hidden my reaction better.

His blond hair was dull and uncared for. His once golden skin was pale and ashen, and his normally bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief were dull and lifeless.

“Landon?” Instinctively, I reached for him.

He grabbed my hand like it was a lifeline, pulling me to him. “There’s cameras everywhere. They’re always watching. You need to play the part.”

He stepped back, his voice firmer, his face stern. “Strip.”

“Fuck you.” It was automatic, but Landon looked almost relieved.

“We’ll get to that,” he said with a wink that held none of his usual humor. “Right now, you stink, like so bad, Kez. Let’s get you washed.”

Breaking his stare, I saw we were in the washrooms. I’d never seen this place in my life. Concrete block walls, several simple showerheads, and an open drain in the center of the room. There were no stalls. It was completely open.

“Strip,” Landon commanded one more time. He was angled in such a way his back was to the camera, but I wasn’t. Landon let out a sigh. “We’re shifters, Kez. Get naked. I’ve seen it all before.”

He had. There was no issue, usually, with being naked between shifting to wolf and back, but it wasn’t the same as being vulnerable in a shower block with someone you thought you knew, in a pack you knew you would never belong to but wouldn’t have thought they’d turn on you so completely.

“I have no problem taking your clothes off,” Landon warned, his eyes flicking to the side to remind me of the cameras.

As if I could forget.

Footsteps made me back up, and I saw Landon frown as he turned to the newcomer. A male I didn’t know and had never seen before walked in with a wide grin.

“She putting on a show or what?”

Landon laughed. “She’s putting on a show of defiance,” he said with amusement. He looked back at me, his tone light as he spoke, but his eyes were pleading. “I’m letting her have her moment of rebellion,” he said with another good-natured laugh.

The newcomer walked closer. “She’s too thin for my tastes.” He came closer. “I like something to grab onto.”

He reached for me, and Landon had his arm twisted up behind his back. His other arm was around his throat. “Let me make this very fucking clear, because you’re new. You don’t touch my fucking mate. Ever. Unless you want me to remove your head from your shoulders.”

The stranger tapped Landon’s forearm. Landon glanced at me once, and I saw his reluctance to let the male go, but he did. He stepped away as the stranger rubbed his throat.

“No touching,” the stranger said with a laugh. “Got it.” He looked me over. “I can watch though, right?”

Landon’s smile was brittle. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I had no time to process as my once best friend stepped into my space. He refused to look at me as he quickly and efficiently stripped me of my shirt and leggings. Cold water hit my skin, and I jerked forward, and in doing so, Landon was able to reach around me and unclip my bra.

“Looks like she’s more eager than she lets on,” the stranger said.

“Aren’t they all?” Landon pretended to be easy and casual, but I noticed that he avoided looking at me or at my body. “Under you go.” A gentle push, and I stepped back under the lukewarm water.

Waking up in the back of Bullet’s truck hadn’t made me feel as vulnerable or as exposed as this. Tears of helplessness welled, and I tipped my head back under the spray to hide their fall. A warm hand grazed my hip, and my eyes flew open to see Landon semi-naked in front of me.

“I’ll help.”

My instinct was to push him away, but the stranger moved, and I realized, in his way, that Landon was covering me with his body. Shielding me under the pretense of being intimate with me.

“What’s real?” I whispered as he began to use the soap to lather his hands.

“Me.” Then louder, he spoke with easy familiarity. “Never smelled a shifter smell like a wet dog before.” His joke caused the stranger to laugh. That’s how he washed me. Making jokes and laughing with a stranger as he helped me get clean. Landon was clever though, so much smarter than I ever thought. He never touched me intimately, only on my arms and back. He helped lather my hair, and slowly, so slowly, I began to trust him.

No matter what he said or how he acted in front of this stranger, his touch was gentle and respectful. Or as respectful as someone could be in these circumstances. He wrapped me in a towel before he stood back and wiped himself dry quickly with another.

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