“Yes. He said I wasn’t ready to accept the truth, and maybe he’s right. It scares me.”
“You don’t want to find out something you believed was really a lie.”
“Yes, same as with your team and this Terry.”
“Sometimes the truth isn’t meant to come to light,” he said. “I wonder at times if that’s not best all around.”
“I don’t agree, at least not where my uncle and my father are concerned. Despite our differences, I’m really worried about Nick. He’s depressed, Zan, and I mean that seriously. Something has to give, and one of them is going to tell me the truth if I have to beat it out of him!”
He smiled. “I don’t doubt you would.”
“Believe it.”
He did. Selene was fast reaching the end of her patience with both men.
For now, all Zan could do was be a comfort and source of support to his mate.
Nick was about to crawl out of his skin.
He was starting to feel like a fucking bat, and he had to get out of this big rock and into the sunshine before he went crazy. How the hell did the vampires stand living inside a mountain?
Walking the corridors and searching without success, he finally found a vampire who directed him to the nearest exit. One that had a pathway leading from it into the forest below the mountain.
When he arrived at the exit, he discovered a large vampire soldier guarding a heavy metal door, presumably to the outside. The vamp stood straighter, eyeing Nick suspiciously as he approached.
“I was told this way out leads to a good place to go for a run. I’m assuming that’s not a problem?” His light, friendly tone had no effect whatsoever on the vampire.
“You assume wrong. Prince Tarron doesn’t like anyone leaving the stronghold in daylight.”
“Well, I’m guessing he meant vampires, members of his coven who shouldn’t go out because they’ll get burned. I’m neither—I’m a wolf and I’m a visitor.”
“Same rules apply.” The soldier was as immovable as the rock they were standing on.
Shit. “Listen, man. My wolf needs to run or he goes a little nuts. If he goes nuts, there might be trouble when he gets mean. And then it would get back to the prince, and he’d demand to know why I wasn’t allowed the simple courtesy of—”
“Fine,” the soldier growled. “But if something happens to you, it’s your ass.”
“Thanks.”
The soldier muscled open the heavy door and let it swing wide. Fresh mountain air, tinged with just the right amount of cold, hit him in the face, and he sighed in appreciation. As he stepped through and made his way down the steep path, the sights and scents of the wooded area below had his wolf straining to be freed.
The woods met the path some one hundred yards down, and he found a good place to stash his clothes. Quickly, he stripped and let the change flow over him. Muscle stretched and bone popped, his body reshaping into his wolf—a form he didn’t get to enjoy nearly enough just for the sheer pleasure of it.
And there was so little enjoyment in his life.
His wolf darted into the forest, and he thought of Selene. She hadn’t spoken to him in the two days since Zan had begun his recovery. His daughter wanted him to open up and he’d claimed she wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to face that he was the one who wasn’t ready to open wounds best left closed.
Except those wounds were festering, and would be until they were dealt with once and for all. In the aftermath, he could very well lose his baby for good.
Heart heavy, he ran. His wolf gradually took the forefront of his mind, and it was a relief of sorts from the troubles that had been crowding his mind and giving him no peace. He reveled in the leaves and dirt under his paws, the fresh air. His wolf body, unencumbered by his human limitations, soared over rocks and fallen trees.
He’d been running for maybe half an hour when he slowed to a trot and heard . . . singing. Halting, he cocked his head, unsure at first. But yes, there it was. The sweetest female voice, softly singing a popular tune about love lost and found again. The voice was captivating, the melody like a bird’s trill among the branches. For a moment, he thought maybe he was hallucinating and it would turn out to be a bird after all.
But as he approached a break in the trees, the breath left him. If he weren’t in wolf form, his knees would’ve buckled and he might have uttered a quiet exclamation.
The woman was beautiful. The most stunning piece of living artwork he’d ever seen. She was of average height, about five feet, five inches tall, and a dark cloak hugged what he figured was a slim frame. Her face was exquisite, her skin pale and creamy, with high cheekbones and a thin nose. Her long-lashed eyes were huge, dominating her face, perfect pencil brows arched over them. He couldn’t tell their color from where he stood, but that hardly mattered.
Gorgeous, straight, shining chestnut hair tumbled around that striking face and to her waist in a silken fall. She was sitting on a rock by a babbling stream and thankfully wasn’t aware of him watching. He shouldn’t spy, but he wanted to observe this beautiful creature unimpeded for as long as he was able.
She kept singing. And he kept watching and listening, the sound reaching somewhere deep inside him to soothe the hurts that had been raw and bleeding for too long. He tried to catch her scent, but the breeze was blowing in a different direction.
Though he couldn’t be sure, he assumed she was one of Tarron’s coven. They were so far into the mountains, and there were no houses around these parts. If she was a vampire, how could she be out in the sun? He’d heard only ancient vampires, and now rogues, could do that.
The urge to reveal himself was strong. In fact, the pull became so irresistible that he took a few steps forward—but a loud voice shattered the tranquil atmosphere.
“Calla! Calla! Dammit, where are you?”
Tarron. That was the prince’s voice, and he sounded both annoyed and worried. The vampire he now knew was Calla snapped her head up, startled, looking around. Moving quickly, she slipped from her rock, uttered a curse—
And vanished.
Nick couldn’t understand the sudden despair that washed over him as he stared at the empty space where she’d been. He’d observed her for only a brief time, so his reaction didn’t make sense.
In the next instant, Tarron appeared close to the spot where the mysterious Calla had been. Muttering, he looked around and shoved a hand through his hair. Nick kept his cover for some reason, instead of going to his new friend. Who was Calla to Tarron? Friend? Family?
Lover?
A low growl rumbled in his chest, but thankfully Tarron didn’t hear the noise. The vampire vanished, translocating to who knew where. Teleportation was one ability that sort of freaked Nick out. Hammer, his friend and right-hand man, could do it, but he was the only Pack member who could.
Deciding to head back, he took off at a trot. All the way back to the stronghold, he found himself recalling every minute of his observation of the beautiful vampire. Calla. He wondered if he’d see her again, perhaps meet in person sometime. He very much hoped so.
He located his clothes and got dressed, then made his way back to the metal door and knocked. The same guard let him in, appearing no happier than he had before.
He thanked the soldier anyway, started to take his leave, then stopped and faced the man again. “By the way, do you know a vampire named Calla? About five-five, beautiful, long chestnut hair, sings like a bird—”
“That would be Princess Calla Shaw,” the guard said, eyes narrowing. “Prince Tarron’s sister.”
Well, fuck a duck. “Maybe we’re talking about different females? Tarron’s last name is Romanoff, not Shaw.”
“The princess is the only Calla in this coven, and she is a widow. She is much adored and fiercely protected by her brother, and I suggest any leanings you have in her direction you allow to pass.” His tone was curt.