Page 52 of Pack Favero

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder as I pass, I tell him, “I like the sound of that.”

“Alright. I’ll call Laz and Alek when I have a second to spare. If you play your cards right, we might even take you to Dolce Vita,” he flirts, uncharacteristically wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I pass by him with a snort.

As I step into the library, a chill races through me, and I pause. It’s warmer today than it has been, and the room isn’t uncomfortably cool. I mean, it’s not warm, by all means, but notcold enough to give me cold shivers.

“You okay, Freckles?” Barnes wonders, pressing his hand to my lower spine as he checks on me with a tiny pinch of his eyebrows.

Nodding, I huff a silly laugh and mutter, “Yeah. Just cold shivers, nothing to worry about.”

I continue toward my desk, ignoring the way the hairs on my body stand on end, and take a seat behind my desk, dropping my purse beside my keyboard. While Barnes hovers nearby, I go about turning on my computer and signing in two minutes before I’m expected to, logging my arrival to work before opening my emails at the ready.

Just as I’m about to ask Barnes what movie he’d like to watch tonight, I lift my head up to find him scowling at a box on top of my desk. Wait, no, not just a box exactly. “Is… is that a gift? Did you put that there?”

Barnes shakes his head and I slowly rise from my chair to lean in for a better look. The box has been wrapped in pale-green paper with a pretty gold ribbon tied around it. It’s no bigger than my palm, wrapped delicately with perfectly cut strips of tape, from what I can see.

“If you didn’t put it there, who did?” I wonder, more than confused.

“Not sure,” Barnes utters, reaching for the box, only to reveal a small piece of paper folded beneath. “But I’ll put every cent to my name that that will tell us.”

Sharing a look with Barnes, I reach for the piece of paper and unfold it, mentally noting how expensive it feels. It’s not the cheap or even reasonably priced paper you’d find in most places. It’s almost closer to cardstock than it is paper, having spent enough time with books to know the difference. Unfolding the small rectangle, I read over the elegant scrawl within.

Forgive me, my heart.

All the color drains from my face, my skin prickling as my body turns cold. My head snaps up to the box, and I take it from the desk where Barnes placed it, tugging harshly at the ribbon.

“What? What is it, Zira?” he asks, his voice as urgent as my movements.

Instead of answering, I slide the paper toward him before continuing to open the small box. I tear the paper away, that I now realize resembles almost the exact color of my eyes, and open the box. Peering back at me from within the cushion tucked inside is a pendant made of gold attached to a delicate chain tucked behind the cushion. A pendant in the shape of a heart. And not a cute, love heart. But an anatomically correct heart that you would find beating in a living person’s chest.

“What the hell?” I whisper, frowning down at the jewelry.

“Is that a necklace? Of an actual heart?” Barnes asks, moving around to stand behind me, peering over my shoulder at the unusual gift. His voice draws my attention, sharper than usual, and I peer into his face and find him scowling at the gift as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing

Nodding, I tug the pendant free of its casing, my hand trembling despite my efforts to calm it. I draw it close to my face to inspect the pendant, swallowing hard when I find it to be incredibly detailed, even though it’s only a fraction bigger than a dime. Flipping it over, I freeze, my breath catching in my chest as a bone-deep chill burrows beneath my flesh. Because where the front of the pendant is detailed, the back is plain, leaving only a small etching that suddenly turns my stomach.

HGJII

“I know who it’s from,” I rasp, holding it up for Barnes tosee the initials carved into the back.

Eerie silence follows, and I swallow hard before dropping the pendant back in the box, closing it, and shoving it away from me. There’s nothing particularly sinister about the gift, though initialing the back is ten degrees of weird. But knowing who the sender is has set my entire nervous system on edge, and I can smell the sudden tart notes of my scent as I grow stressed and uncomfortable.

Barnes must catch it, too, because I’m up in his arms before I can take my next breath, my head tucked beneath his chin as his arms band around me like a vise I don’t wish to escape from.

“It’s okay, Freckles,” he assures, rubbing his hand up and down my back. “We’re taking this to the Dean. He clearly didn’t catch a hint the last time, so maybe he will when we show Kira this.”

I nod against him, but I’m staring at the unassuming box like it’s a viper rearing to strike, my stomach churning nauseatingly. “That’s weird, right? It’s not just me?”

“It’s weird, Zira. Very weird, and inappropriate. When I spoke to Kira about the advice that creep tried to share with you, she assured me it would be taken care of. This doesn’t look taken care of to me,” Barnes rumbles, his voice low and dark. “We’re going to see her, right now.”

Nodding again, I go to move back just as the door opens and a pixie of a girl comes bouncing inside with her pastel hair, bubblegum scent, and tanned skin. Silver stills her steps when she sees me caught in Barnes’s embrace, her smile faltering as she eyes me with familiar gray eyes, the same ones she shares with the man who’s niggled his way into my heart.

“Miss Fave? What happened?” she asks, rushing toward me the next moment, right before finagling Barnes out of the way to hug me instead. Her arms wrap around me tightly, butnot enough to choke the air from my lungs, her platform chucks offering her enough inches that we stand at near enough the same height. “You smell stressed. I don’t like it.”

I huff as I hug her back with shaking limbs, feeling like I’m completely overreacting but unable to pinpoint why. Hunter hasn’t done anything weird beyond offering unwelcome words. I haven’t even seen him since that encounter, but there’s something so painfully off about him that it sets me on edge. My instincts scream at me every time he’s near. Just the mere mention of his name, or a passing of his scent faintly lingering in the hallway, makes my heart stall horribly in my chest. There’s something off about the man, and now he’s gifting me jewelry, something I consider inappropriate for a man who isn’t my pack to gift, and is calling me his heart? There’s something very wrong with that.

“I don’t much care for it, either,” Barnes almost growls, right before he tugs us both into a hug and starts purring, his one arm wrapped around Silver, while he presses his front to my side and pulls me as close as he can get me.

Eventually, when I’ve stopped shaking like a leaf, Silver pulls back and looks me over with concern while Barnes continues to hold on to me, almost like he senses that I need it far more than space right now.

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