Page 18 of Shadow Bound

Standing between the trees that reek of her, I smirk. She can try and hide from me all she wants, but I know she’s here and I can be patient when I need to be. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I taunt.

I’m met by silence, but I’m not deterred. She wants to play hide-and-seek? I’m more than happy to play her little game.

“I’ll stay out here all night if I have to. The only person waiting for me is Sawyer, and while he’s pretty, I’ve spent three solid months with him. Some time apart will do us good.”

Silence.

“Come on, Isabeau, I know you’re here.” I use her name, savoring the sound of it on my tongue.

Finally, the branches of the tall tree to my left creak and moan. Thirty feet in the air, walking along a narrow branch with grace emerges the girl that’s filled my head for ten months. Still dressed head to toe in black she looks down at me. I can’t see the pale color of her eyes in the dark, but I feel them as they scan me.

I’m indifferent to the fact I’m naked. Shifters learned quickly to become comfortable with nudity.

Dropping to a crouching position in the middle of the branch, she tilts her head to the side, observing me. The whole scene reminds me of a panther stalking their prey. I’ve never considered myself prey, I’ve always been the hunter, but with Isabeau looming above me, I’ve never felt more like a deer being tracked.

Her features are hidden by the shadows she was concealed in and the curtain of her dark hair, but the parts of her pale skin that are visible almost look like they’re glowing in the moonlight.

“There you are.” I smirk. “Told you I had your scent and I’d find you.”

In a fluid movement that surprises me, Isabeau jumps from the branch. She lands on her feet behind me silently. Her feet don’t even make a sound when she hits the ground. “Very daring of you to come out here alone, Ransom.” Her raspy voice fills the night. “I could kill you now and no one would ever know. There wouldn’t even be bones for that sweet family of yours to find.”

She slinks around, keeping her distance as she circles me. Her skintight pants are made of leather, a holster on her thigh holds a knife in it. I see the glint of silver from under her hooded jacket, telling me she has more than one weapon on her.

“Honey, we both know if you wanted me dead, I’d be bleeding out in the dirt right now.” This exchange reminds me of the one we had in the clinic. If she wanted to spill my blood, she would have done it by now. She definitely wouldn’t have come out of her hiding place. She’s too smart for that.

Her head turns my way, her pale eyes looking at me blandly. “Maybe I just enjoy playing with my food.”

“That so? You want to take a bite out of me, baby girl?” With my teeth bared, I snarl at her before I shoot forward. If she was prepared for me to move, she doesn’t react, instead, she allows me to push her up against the trunk of the tree behind her. She makes no noise as her back roughly hits the rough bark nor does her facial expression change. Looking into her eyes is like looking into a machine—blank, devoid of any emotion. With my forearm across her throat, I lower my head, allowing us to be eye level. She’s average height, but my six-four frame towers over her. “I fucking dare you.”

Her face is still partially covered by her thick hair and the hood she wears over her head. Irritation runs through my veins that I can’t make out her whole face.

I know she could easily break free of the hold I have on her, but she stays put.

“I don’t feed off shifters,” she rasps. “Never did acquire a taste forwolf.”

“Shame, I heard we’re delicious.” Unable to stop myself, I shove her hood off her head, pushing her hair out of her face as I go. Her haunting features are finally on display to me, I take them in. Her skin is like porcelain, not a single flaw or freckle in sight. Her hair is longer than I remember it being in January. Her eyes aren’t as vibrant—alert—as they were before, I notice. They seem dull, that arctic blue no longer shining. Her cheeks also seem slightly hollow.

I find myself not liking that, a twinge of… concern?Worry? fills my chest. My wolf lifts his chin, indifferent and apathetic toward her.

Not forgetting about the deceased fox shifter, the reason I’m here in the first place, I raise a brow at her. “You wouldn’t happen to be the one who drained a fox shifter of all her blood, would you?”

Her eyes shift in the direction the body was left, before sliding back to me. “I believe Ijustsaid I don’t feed from shifters,” she reminds me. “Also, don’t insult me. If I were the one to kill that girl, I wouldn’t have left the body to be found and I certainly wouldn’t revisit the scene like a sentimental serial killer.”

She shifts forward, trying to move from my grasp, making me press my arm harder to her neck, making her eyes flare in warning. She doesn’t try again, instead she relaxes. “Then what are you doing out here, Isabeau?”

Lifting her chin defiantly, she sneers at me. “I’ll tell you, but first you’re going to remove your arm from my throat and let me go.”

Shaking my head, I lean down closer, her silk-like hair running along my nose. I greedily take in her scent, the copper smell that was so prevalent ten months ago, is faint, hardly there. “And why would I want to do that? I quite like you at my mercy.”

A sly smirk grows at the corner of her mouth. “You’re a fool if you think you’ve been in control this whole time. While you’ve been busy running your mouth, I’ve had a knife pressed to your dick.” Her hand shifts between us and for the first time, I look down. Sure as shit, a wicked-looking silver blade is hovering over my dick. “Keep holding me here,” Isabeau mocks. “I fucking dare you.” She throws my words back at me and to drive her point home, she presses the blade harder against me, but doesn’t break the skin.Yet.

With no other choice, I release her and take a step back, watching her warily.

Note to fucking self: never be naked around Isabeau again.

She pushes off the tree, twisting the knife around in her fingers. “Good choice, we wouldn’t want you to have another death in the family.” She readjusts the hood I’d pushed off her head. “Howisyour precious Pruitt doing? Is she on an island somewhere drinking margaritas out of a coconut?”

“I have no idea,” I bite. “Only one person knows where she is and he’s a tight-lipped motherfucker. You’d like him.”

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