Page 19 of The Sacred Wolf

I laughed. “Okay, I’ll buy it. But why then? There must be dozens of movie theaters in your borough. Why that one?”

“Because it’s where all my happiest memories are. My mother—” His voice cracked with emotion, and when he spoke again, I could detect the tiniest trace of her accent in his words. “She loved—loves—my father, but she has always missed her home and wanted me to experience that part of our culture, but it was frowned upon by my grandfather when he was still alive. Wolves only have one culture.”

“So she took you to El Barrio.” That was what Jayla had always called Spanish Harlem, refusing to give in to the gentrified SpaHa nickname.

Sebastian smiled wistfully. “The pizza place on the corner by the theater used to be a Puerto Rican café. They made the most delicious mofongo you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mofongo?” I repeated carefully. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never tasted it at all, but… I’d like to try. If there’s somewhere else.”

The grin that split his face was so wide it instantly embarrassed him, and he quickly schooled his features and cleared his throat. “I know some places. But, um, anyways, we were leaving the café one day, and there was a poster out in front of the theater with this giant flying white wolf—well, that’s what I thought he was. I mean, what else was I supposed to think? I was seven. I thought it was going to be about us, and then when the kid had my weird name…”

“BashBux,” I blurted the username for the streaming service the TV in my room had been logged into from the moment I arrived. It was him. It had always been him. Preparing that room for me. “Bastian Bux.” My forehead dropped onto his shoulder, and tears stung my eyes. “The NeverEnding Story.”

He swallowed hard. “Now you know. We went there every chance we could up until the day I left home to search for… my fated.”

I did the math in my head, based on what Yara herself had told me about when he left. He was twenty. I was sixteen. We had just missed each other. Which was good because our age gap needed some time to legalize, but that only made it feel more like something… like something knew it wasn’t the right time for us to see each other… until suddenly it was.

“Why were you there that night?”

“The mating ceremony was a week away.” He looked down at our clasped hands, tilting his cheek toward the top of my head without touching it. “And I knew Kenzo would want to throw me a bachelor party that weekend…” He rolled his eyes. “So I was running out of time. Once the Alpha Heir of the Bronx was in my bed…”

“No more movies,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.

“No more movies.” He drew another deep breath that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle. “So imagine my surprise when we finally locked eyes, and you were the beautiful… noisy… woman from the theater.”

Oh, Gods help me. I’m going to marry this man.

Chapter Nine

Or not.

Sebastian let go of my hand as soon as the tram landed and bolted for the door. Safe from the Green Goblin at last, and shook himself like his wolf was rearranging its fur. It would have been cute, but with that shake came the instant reemergence of the emotionless, self-assured Alphahole. The jerk hustled down the stairs without so much as a “Thanks, Elyse,” or even a glance back at me. I understood the urgency now that we had some control over our speed, but… seriously?

Did you want to show up at the crime scene holding hands?

I sighed and followed, my feet dragging as I remembered what we were hustling toward. Maybe when we got there, I could just wait in the car since Sebastian had never actually needed me to come along. He just didn’t want me around another unmated Alpha like Tony. Presumably for my protection, but come on, he didn’t even trust me with Evan.

Downstairs, Kenzo stood in an appropriately themed black hoodie and jeans, waiting by the open door to a black Tahoe. His usual face-splitting grin was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he gave me a curt nod as I got in and then piled in after me. The cocky but normally affable male settled into the seat beside Sebastian before I could even think about it. I scoffed as I crawled my way to the bench seat in the back.

So much for chivalry.

Before even a few seconds had passed, Kenzo was already launching into the details for Sebastian, and as I listened, my cruddy self-pity-party crashed and burned.

“…four students, all freshmen, we think. They were coming from a Greek event, some fundraiser for the victims of the shooting in Virginia, and they were attacked. The cops aren’t saying much, but Mateo gathered that the timing seems to be around one-thirty p.m.”

“In the middle of the damned Thursday!” Sebastian growled. He unbuttoned his jacket and yanked it off angrily, tossing it aside so he could lean in and view Kenzo’s information on his phone. He also rolled up his sleeves, revealing the rippling muscle and veins of a battle-trained Alpha, and I swallowed hard.

At least one of us was well-trained.

Who knew what we were facing if someone would willingly commit this atrocity in the middle of the day in a busy city park? While I appreciated his confidence in my ability to fight, we were both aware that I had spent most of the precious years that Alphas spent turning themselves into killing machines eating more double-buttered popcorn than anyone, not just Jayla, would recommend.

“We have to assume that the attackers hid here,” Kenzo jabbered, nervousness rolling off him in acidic waves that made my nose wrinkle, “and that they weren’t looking for anyone specific because there was no way to know these kids would be here. It was unusual for all of them because of the event, so we think it was opportunistic. They’ve got the area cordoned off, but Mateo said the Sergeant expects us, and we’ll be able to look. They know we worked with the Upper East Side for the last ones.”

Sebastian’s eyes slid to briefly meet mine before returning to the phone.

Suddenly the air inside the cab thickened, and images ignited my mind like the sparks of a train’s third rail. The baseball bat lifting… Evan jumped to his feet to save me… Jayla screaming, screaming, screaming… Charlie throwing herself on top of me as any mother would.

My breath quickened. Bile crawled up my throat, the lead note to a symphony of panicky nausea, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I turned away and stared out the window as the driver wove at breakneck speed between the yellow cabs and buses lining Park Avenue, gesturing and honking as he went.

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