Page 25 of Heartless

I didn’t think it was a coincidence her dad had a containment collar. Warren’s whole strategy to keep Vail safe had been built around one. With me as the lucky asshole who got to snap it around her pretty neck. What I couldn’t understand was if the guy was just hung up on suppression, or if there was another reason for him to have it locked away in his personal vault.

If I was struggling to unravel Warren’s motives, Vail must have been going out of her mind. Which is how she looked when I came up through the trapdoor and found her wearing a hole in the cabin floor. She’d paced right to the far wall, but she whipped around as soon as she heard me. “You didn’t bring it up here, did you?”

I assumed she meant the collar, and held out my hands, proving I was only holding the torch. I turned it off and put it on the table while she rubbed at her arms, her brow an anxious knot. “Why would he have that here? Do you think he put it there recently? Because I don’t know what’s worse. If it’s been there all this time, since I was a kid…” She shuddered and started pacing again. “What else is he hiding?”

“You probably won’t know until you ask him, but I have a theory,” I said quietly, and when she looked at me with fearful eyes, I picked up the pillow on the rocking chair. “It has a scent to it. Not your dad’s. This one is florally. Feminine. Maybe it’s just the velvet pouch it was resting on, but I’m pretty sure the collar smelled like this pillow.”

She stared at me in shock, before dropping her gaze to the pillow. Given my mom was an alpha, I’d never seen a hand-stitched pillow in real life, but I knew I was right about the scent. Her mom – or the female who’d made it – had also worn the collar.

“But why?” She veered away from the cushion, going back to stare down into the trapdoor. “Why would my mom wear it? And why would my dad have kept it? She was a Marrow princess…” Her eyes flicked around the room, flinching at the familiar things. “Do you think it’s just some sort of trophy?”

I winced at the obvious parallels. “It was used to keep her safe, would be my guess.”

She rounded on me, her eyes flashing green fire. “Of course, you’d think that, Jasper.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. You’re right, she was a Marrow princess. And from everything I’ve heard, she was a strong alpha.”

“Because only weak alphas would let themselves be collared,” she said with a bitterness that cut me to the core.

“You know I’m sorry I did that. I shouldn’t have forced you. If I told you why I was so shit scared, maybe we could have worked something else out…”

She waved a hand, cutting me off. “This isn’t about us.” She chewed so hard on her lip, I was afraid she’d tear the delicate skin. “I need to think this through. I know he’s not my real dad, but he never told me why he kept me after she died.” Her face was suddenly bone white, her eyes all pupil. “Do you think he was her keeper?” She almost screeched the word, crossing to the small couch and dropping onto it. She was still holding the pillow, and she clutched it to her middle as she stared at the empty rocking chair. “You met him. He gave you the scent shield, right? Is that who you think he is?”

“You’re going to make yourself sick thinking about this.”

“Do you think her dad made him do it? My grandfather. I’ve heard awful things about him.” She was still staring at the chair, but she was rocking now, as if she was trying to match some memory of her father there. “Maybe my grandfather told him to collar her, and then when I was born, he was paid to keep me here, too. To hide me from the other wolves…”

“No.” I sat beside her, pulling her against my chest. I could feel her trembling, but it had nothing to do with me. Or hell, everything to do with me, since I was the one who’d put her in a collar, then shoved the memory of her mom in one as well. “Listen to me. Your grandfather would never have paid anyone to hide you away. You heard Cyril. So stop thinking your dad locked your mom up. I did meet him. A couple of times. And I know he loves you so much, he’s willing to do some crazy things to keep you safe. Just like I was...”

“Stop.” She pushed me back, covering her ears with her hands. “I don’t want to hear any more. I’m just… I need to lie down.” She almost stumbled as she got to her feet, but when I rose alongside her, she shook her head. “You can go. Take the Ski-Doo. I’ll head back tomorrow. Or you could send Darkness back up when he’s free.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then… wake me in an hour. We need to leave before the storm sets in.”

It wasn’t the first time I wanted to punch my wolf in the snout. But as I listened to her climb into her shitty little bed, shivering in her cold room as she wrestled with her dark thoughts, every part of me wanted to go in there and comfort her. But I knew she wouldn’t let me. Not in this form, at least. But my wolf might have got away with it, and for the first restless, painful hour, I waited for him to appear. To push through my skin and go spread himself over her like a hairy blanket. But maybe, in some way, he knew the best way to torture me was to leave her cold and alone.

When she finally stumbled out, rubbing her eyes and shivering in her coat, I had to grit my teeth to stop snatching her up and wrapping her in my body heat. But she was already moving to the window, her movements frantic. “What time is it? Jasper! How long did I sleep?” When she opened the shutter, she gasped at the snow pressing against the window. “It’s a whiteout! Why are you just sitting there? We’re snowed in.”

“I got distracted.” I watched her dance to the next window, as if the view might be any different from a few feet over. When she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed at the book in my hands. “The Mating Habits of Territorial Creatures, I presume?”

“I read the paper. After that, it was hard to stay out of the cellar.”

She made a rude sound, but came back to the couch and stared down at me. I could see a world of worry in her wide green eyes. “Why are you still here, Jasper?”

“You need answers.”

“That’s my problem, not yours.” She dragged her foot over the faded rug on the floor. “I take it Liam’s camped out on the porch?”

“He went back to keep an eye on things. His guys are down near Driftwood’s, making sure they’re safe.” At her raised brows, I shrugged. “If we’re not getting out, no one’s getting in.”

She put her hands on her hips, still looking weary despite her long sleep. “That’s not a plan. We could be here for days.”

And how was that a bad thing? I managed to keep the grin off my face, but only by turning her attention towards the kitchen. The cabin ran off a generator, so most of the appliances were pretty basic, but they’d installed an old cast iron wood stove. It had a huge firebox and baking oven, with three ring burners on the top. I’d only managed to heat some soup, but I’d been impressed by all the features I couldn’t use.

“My mom loved to cook,” Vail told me as she padded over to the oven and looked in the pot. “Dad said if he ever got lost in a blizzard, all he had to do was follow the scent of peach pie.” She filled a bowl and carried it to the table, but even when she picked up her spoon, she didn’t eat. “I can’t fit the old memories with my new fears. What if it was all a lie?”

“Driftwood said there were answers here. Maybe we should go look.”

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