Page 74 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
Across the room, I spotted a crystal decanter and glasses on a side table. An escape route.
“Let me grab us some water,” I said, squeezing Rory’s hand once before releasing it.
I didn’t wait for his response, moving deliberately through the crowd, fighting the urge to run. My hands trembled slightly as I reached for the decanter, pouring water into two crystal tumblers.
Cold sweat prickled across my forehead. Did Edina already know we were here looking for Dev? Had she warned her entire pack about my telepathy?
I reached out tentatively with my mind, probing the thoughts of nearby wolves. Just like with Edina and Tariq, I encountered nothing but blank nothingness.
Taking a steadying breath, I turned back toward the room, glasses in hand. This time, I deliberately made eye contact with each pack member I passed. Their smiles were polite, even welcoming, but their eyes told a different story—cold assessment, thinly veiled disgust. They knew. They all knew what I was.
My skin prickled uncomfortably, every instinct screaming danger. The sensation of being an unwelcome intruder intensified with each step, the weight of their collective disdain pressing against me. I’d barely told a soul in my life about my gift, and this was why.
I handed Rory his water, noting how his face fell as he glanced down at the clear liquid.
…thanks for abandoning me and leaving me alone with her…plus I need something ten times stronger than this…
The familiar irritation in his mental voice was almost comforting amidst the sea of blank minds surrounding us.
“Will ye be running with us this evening, Rory?” Edina asked, addressing him only, her voice carrying the weight of command.
I expected Rory to immediately decline. Instead, confliction crossed his face, his eyebrows drawing together. Did he think it might somehow help our investigation? Or was he simply afraid to refuse his mother directly?
Before he could answer, someone tapped Edina on the shoulder, drawing her attention away. I seized the opportunity, grabbing Rory’s elbow and steering him toward a quieter corner of the room, hoping the ambient noise of conversation would mask our words.
I felt dozens of eyes following us—the spectacle of the runaway wolf and his telepathic detective boyfriend providing the evening’s entertainment.We were the main attraction in this twisted circus, and I hated every second of it.
I leaned in close to Rory’s ear, as if we were sharing an intimate moment. His hair tickled my nose.
“Your mother somehow knows I’m a telepath,” I whispered, my lips nearly brushing his earlobe. “They all do. They’re guarding their thoughts when they’re near me, or when I look their way.”
Rory pulled back slightly, his eyes widening with interest rather than alarm. “You can do that?” he asked, sounding excited, like I’d just revealed some fascinating new superpower rather than a critical security breach.
“With a conscious, constant effort, yes,” I replied, struggling to keep the exasperation from my voice. “It requires focus and mental discipline.”
Rory’s face broke into a grin. “Nah then. Pass. Sounds hard.”
I rolled my eyes to the heavens above. “But this is a serious security breach. How the hell do they know who I am?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “She has a deep well of resources. But Kit has always suspected she’s had tabs on us this whole time. It makes sense to have had us watched even closer after she sent the invite.”
“Tabs? This is more thantabs, Rory. This makes no sense. It’s impossible for her to know.”
My thoughts raced, searching for any explanation. Before this evening, I’d only met Alex and Isla. Was it possible one of them possessed some kind of telepathic detection ability? Apparently shifters could tell when a human was Gifted, but not usually anything more specific than that, as far as I was aware.
Unless…
A cold feeling settled in my stomach. What if there was a file on me somewhere? Something that documented my telepathy. Some list, unknown even to Killigrew Street, and White? White had found me because she knew my father. Who knew how many others knew about him? If he had been documented somewhere, then it was entirelypossible I’d inherited more than just his telepathy. I’d inherited his place on someone’s watchlist.
The thought that someone might have been tracking me my entire life, even before I knew what I was, chilled me to the bone.
“Ah, fuck,” Rory hissed, distracting me. “There he is.”
I shifted slightly so I could see who he meant out of the corner of my eye. A dark-haired man in his late twenties stood by the fireplace, meticulously dressed in what looked like a bespoke suit, nursing a tumbler of amber liquid. A pale scar bisected his left eyebrow, giving his already severe features an even more intimidating edge.
The man’s gaze found Rory’s across the room, and his lip curled into what could generously be called a smirk.
“Well, he looks like a good time,” I muttered.
