Is this why Grey wasn’t posted outside my door?

  Was it a setup?

  “Who are you?” I demand.

  “You won’t get away with this,” he says, glaring at me.

  We’re almost out of the alley now.

  The glow of the street lamps wash his face in orange, but the angry twist of his brows is only magnified in the light. He hates me enough to kill me. He doesn’t even know me.

  “You’re the one who should be thinking of escape,” I say. And I mean it. After what he’s just tried to do, I won’t feel guilty ripping him apart.

  “I don’t want to escape,” he snarls. “I want your blood on my hands, bitch.”

  I keep moving toward him. “We’ll see who spills blood next.”

  “Levi only ever tried to help, and you got him killed,” he accuses.

  That brings me up short.

  He hates me because he blames me.

  And why shouldn’t he?

  Some of my rage fades. Guilt sets in.

  When he suddenly turns and runs off, I can’t quite bring myself to follow.

  Killing him now would only prove his point.

  To him, I’m the bad guy.

  Maybe he’s right.

  “Mac.”

  The sound of any voice out here is startling, but the fact that it’s Jadick himself makes me whirl in panic. He’s so close that I have to catch myself to keep from stumbling into him. He puts his hands up as if to help or grab me, but I recoil at the idea of him touching me right now.

  His expression is tight, but there’s no animosity. Not like the man that just ran off. And he doesn’t carry a weapon.

  Still, I eye him warily.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  His calmness is infuriating, so I simply stare back at him, very aware of how weak I am now. The new dose of venom pumps through me faster, and the sting of it steals my breath, but I refuse to let on.

  “You’re in no condition,” he says as if I’ve offered an answer.

  Then again, it’s not hard to guess my intentions.

  We both know what I want.

  “You’ll never make it past her guards,” he adds.

  I growl.

  He sighs.

  “Please come back inside so we can talk about this.”

  I deliberately turn away and begin walking across the parking lot.

  Okay, limping.

  “I’ll get him back,” he says, and I stop walking. “If that’s what you want.”

  Slowly, I turn to face him, aware of the venom burning me from the inside out. But I ignore it and study Jadick, trying to decide whether he’s lying. Or if he’s not, what he wants in return. Whatever it is, I’ll probably give it—and he knows it.

  I hate him for that right now.

  But I find myself making my way back to where he stands.

  And now I hate myself.

  He doesn’t gloat. Somehow, that still feels like gloating.

  Instead, he simply turns and leads the way back through the door I exited earlier. Then, down the hall and into my tiny room. Everything is how I left it a few minutes ago, which makes the whole thing feel like a dream.

  Or a nightmare.

  The only difference is that Grey is back, standing like a sentry between me and freedom. Beside him is Burnett, and beyond them are at least half a dozen others.

  I ignore them all. So does Jadick.

  “The man who attacked you will be dealt with,” he says.

  “What if I don’t want that?” I ask.

  “It’s not up to you anymore.” He doesn’t bat an eye as he says, “You’ll never see him again. Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

  Safe.

  The idea of that word belonging in Jadick’s mouth is ridiculous. I don’t respond.

  “Get changed,” he says, glancing down at me. “I’ll wait outside.”

  I look down at myself and realize my pants are torn where the knife caught me. And my shirt is in tatters where it’s been stretched and ripped during the fight. My bra is on full display. If only that were my biggest concern right now.

  Jadick is halfway out the door when I say, “Don’t bother.”

  My leg burns hotter, and my head swims with the pain, but I don’t care. I need to know what this is.

  What he wants.

  “Tell me what I have to do,” I say.

  He has the audacity to look confused. “I don’t know what you—”

  “Yes, you do,” I say. “You’ll rescue Levi, but it won’t be free. Tell me what you want in return.”

  I am tempted to reach for the counter to steady myself. My knees are trembling with pain. But I resist. I refuse to let Jadick see me weak.

  His confusion disappears, replaced with reluctant admiration. “You always impress me, you know. You’re clever. Intuitive. Strong. It’s a pleasant surprise.”

  “I don’t want your compliments.”

  “Consider them part of my request.”

  Request.

  Right.

  This is extortion, pure and simple.

  But I don’t argue. I wait.

  “I’ll get right to it if that’s what you prefer.” He meets my eyes and says, “I’ll rescue Levi. And in exchange, I would request your hand in marriage.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Marriage.

  The word hangs in the air between us, and for a moment, my head swims with the shock of it. I want to refuse. I want to laugh in his face or throw something at his head. But all too soon, the reality of my situation—and the desperation that comes with it—comes crashing down around me. And I know I can’t do any of those things.

  Jadick knows it too.

  He has the decency to look unsure.

  Or maybe that’s part of what makes him such a snake.

  “You can’t be serious,” I manage.

  But we both know he is.

  “You’re strong and clever and capable,” he says. “More than anyone else I’ve known.”

  “You want to piss Kari off,” I say.

  His lips twitch. “An added benefit, I won’t deny it.”

  “And Levi?”

  He shrugs. “He would be free.”

  “But he would be rejected.”

  “And stronger for it.” His eyes glitter with challenge. He’s daring me to argue. “Our pack needs strong leadership, Mac. Practical choices. A head for logic and strategy. You have all of that.” I don’t say anything, so he adds, “Great responsibility requires sacrifice.”

  Bullshit.

  There’s only one of us sacrificing anything here, and it’s not him. Not unless you count the fact that he’s sleeping on sheets with a thread count below three thousand right now.

  “What is this about, really? You don’t need a mate to rule as alpha.”

  He shuts the door behind him with a soft click and then turns back to me. “You’re right.” He closes the distance between us, his voice quiet. “I don’t need a mate. But I want you.”

  I shudder, which he apparently takes for interest instead of disgust.

  He leans closer. “Join me, Mac. With you at my side, we can take back the pack and build an empire our ancestors only dreamed of.”

  “What makes you think I want an empire?”

  “You want freedom, and that only comes with power.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You don’t take orders from anyone,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know. But if you agree—if you join me—you’d never take orders from anyone again.”

  My brows lift at that. “You mean anyone except you.”

  He smirks. “Of course. I am the alpha after all.”

  He says it like it will impress me. And that’s what makes me snap.

  “Jadick,” I say softly, and I see the hope leap into his pretty eyes. “Hear me because I only want to say this once.” I pause and then say very deliberately, “Fuck. You.”

  His eyes flash with anger that fades quickly. Too quickly.

  He steps back.

  “Take some time to consider,” he says quietly. “Without me, I’m not sure there’s much hope for poor Levi.”

  He walks out before I can find something to chuck at his egotistical head.

  The door clicks shut behind him.

  In the silence that follows, I try to ignore the fact that Jadick has just played an Ace I never saw coming, but the burn of the venom in my bloodstream is nothing compared to the searing wound to my pride.

  Jadick is right.

  Without him, Levi is trapped.

  Whether or not I agree to his offer, I’m trapped too.

  Finally, I cross to my bag and pull out the fresh shirt inside. Peeling off the tattered remains of my old one, I let the fabric fall to the floor. By the time I’m done pulling on the clean tee, I’m exhausted.

  Forgetting the pants, I drop onto the cot and close my eyes, imagining myself wrapping my hands around Jadick’s throat and squeezing until he never breathes again.

  The door opens, but the scent of this newest visitor is recognizable instantly, so I don’t bother looking up. Not yet. If I do, I’m not sure I can stop myself from unleashing my rage on my former friend. Even I can admit he doesn’t deserve it—not for this.

  Unfortunately, a few deep breaths don’t do much to calm the storm raging inside me. When I finally force my eyes open, Tripp slouches against the closed door.

  “Hey,” he says warily. “I thought you might be sleeping.”

  “I’m not.” I stare up at the ceiling, waiting for him to get to the point.

  “You okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Your leg is bleeding.”

  I look down and note the blood soaking my pants. It’s not bad enough to worry about, but it’s already stained the sheet underneath me.

  “I was stabbed.”

  He straightens and steps closer. “What the fuck? Are you serious? When? Was it Jadick?”

  I snort. “Yeah, right. If you think that asshole could get the drop on me, you don’t know me at all.”

  Besides, Jadick doesn’t stab with knives.

  “Then who—?”

  I turn to look at him. “What’s it to you?”

  Hurt flashes, but it’s gone quickly. He steps back again, his expression shuttered. “I take it that didn’t go well. With Jadick.”

  “It went the way Jadick wanted it to.”

  My head swims. With pain. And overwhelm. With venom.

  Tripp snorts. “No surprise there.”

  I spare him a withering glance, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.

  Instead, he holds out a banana—and a granola bar. “I brought you this.”

  It’s the same kind as the one I found here when I woke before.

  My pride wants to refuse it, but I can’t bring myself to risk eating anything else. Not here. Especially not after the attack in the parking lot.

  “Why bother?” I ask but snatch it anyway.

  He doesn’t react to his victory, which saves him from a throat punch.

  “I know you’re wary of the food here,” he says.

  My chest squeezes. I stare back at him.

  Does he know because he’s the reason behind it?

  Someone tried to drug me when Levi first brought me to the compound. The suspect list is down to Jadick or Tripp. At first, I’d refused to believe Tripp could have done that to me, but I’m not so sure of anything anymore.

  I unwrap the bar and shove a piece into my mouth.

  We sit in silence while I chew.

  The food helps me feel slightly less out of it.

  I’m vaguely aware I’ll need to dress this wound soon, but for now, ignoring it is the best I can do.

  “I’m sorry I left him there,” Tripp says, and my gaze whips back to his.

  The desperation and suffering in his eyes are almost enough for me to let him off the hook. Almost.

  “I hate myself for it,” he goes on, his voice barely more than a whisper. “So I don’t blame you for hating me too.”

  I want to tell him I don’t hate him, but the words won’t come.

  “Help me get him out,” I say instead.

  He stares at me, clearly surprised. Then he’s nodding like he’s just been waiting for me to ask. “I swear it. Whatever you need, just name it.”

  “I don’t know what I need yet,” I say, and the admission takes something out of me. Or maybe it was my song and dance with Jadick. Either way, I feel like crying, and that’s not something I intend on inviting Tripp to watch.

  He seems to sense the conversation is over and moves to the door.

  “When you figure it out, I’m here,” he says.

  I make no promises as I watch him close the door between us, maybe for good.

  CHAPTER 6

  I don’t sleep so much as pass out. It’s unusual for me to let myself sink so far into unawareness, but the poison makes anything else impossible. When I wake, the venom is a simmering burn that warms my skin from the inside out. The sheets are wet beneath me, and I realize I’ve sweated through my clothes.

  Fever.

  It wracks my body with bone-deep chills. I wonder how much is too much when it comes to the poison I can’t seem to stop getting injected with lately. My wolf stirs, though, and it’s the first sign of healing I’ve felt in days. It boosts my strength but mostly my morale. I can do this. I have to find a way to get Levi on my own. Jadick’s offer is a dangling carrot—a rancid, vile, rotten carrot that I can’t allow myself to reach for.

  I won’t.

  There are worse ways to be poisoned than this damned venom in my veins.

  Propping myself up on an elbow, I survey the room.

  Nothing is out of place, but I can’t shake the feeling something is different.

  I force myself to sit and then stand. Crossing the room, I find my legs are shaky, my knees weak. My wolf surges in response, but even she can’t seem to heal me any faster against the poison swimming in my bloodstream.

  All I can do is wait.

  But time is the one thing I don’t have.

  My door is unlocked, but any surprise I feel at that fact disappears the moment I pull it open.

  Grey is waiting, standing sentry between me and the outer hall. Not unexpected, but the fact that he’s no longer alone is. To my right, three more guards are stationed between me and the exit I used before. Even from here, I can see there’s no need for them. The door itself has been boarded shut.

  How did I sleep through that?

  “Tell my mother I need to see her.” My throat is scratchy, but I pretend it’s not more evidence I’m falling apart.

  “She left,” Grey says.

  What?

  I pause, not sure what that means, but I can’t bring myself to ask. Mostly because I don’t trust him to tell me the truth.

  “You look like death,” he says.

  I look up and realize he’s studying me, assessing.

  I scowl. “I’m sure you’re disappointed it’s only a look.”

  “Whatever that means.”

  I limp up to him. And stare him in the eye despite the fact that he’s nearly a foot taller than me. “Play stupid if you want, but if you want me dead, you’re going to have to try harder than that untrained wannabe-soldier asshole you sent for me last night.”

  His expression twists in confusion. “I didn’t send anyone.”

  “Right.” I shove past him.

  Instead of stopping me, he follows at a safe distance. Close enough to tackle me if I try to run for it. Not that I can do much running right now.

  “If I wanted you dead,” he says from behind me, “you would be.”

  His words send a trickle of unease down my spine.

  I look up as Frankie strides toward us, a woman on a mission. Her expression is tightly clamped, and I can’t tell if she’s pissed or merely preoccupied. She stops when she sees me and fails to hide her surprise. Like she isn’t expecting me to be out of my room. Her gaze zeroes in on my bloody pant leg.

  “Mac,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

  “How do I look?” I ask.

  “Like you could use a drink,” she says. Her eyes flick to Grey then back to me. “Come on. Let’s find you one.”

  I don’t argue.

  We both know a drink won’t help, but if it gets Grey off my back, I’ll go shot for shot with the woman.

  Grey follows us all the way to the door beside the water fountain, which lets me know whatever she and Tripp do back here, it’s not a secret. She pushes it open and then turns back to Grey, ushering me past before blocking Grey from following.

  “There are no exits through here, and you know it,” she tells him. “You can wait here.”

  He frowns but says nothing, which is just as well because she slams the door in his face. “Come on,” she says, leading me down the hall. “We can talk back here.”

  I search warily for Tripp as we pass the other rooms, but they’re all empty. At the end, she turns into a small space that has a desk set against one wall and a small cot against the other. Between them, facing the desk, are two camping chairs.

  Frankie gestures for me to take one as she takes the other. Reaching into the bottom desk drawer, she holds up a bottle of Jack and two plastic cups.

  “You were serious about the drink?” I can’t help but ask.

  “The wound on your leg,” she says flatly, “Was it venom?”

  I nod.

  She shakes her head grimly. “Yeah, I’m serious about the drink. And you should be too. It’s the only painkiller I’ve got.”

  “Good point.”

  “Mall security had it right,” she says, uncapping the bottle with a sigh of appreciation.

  I snort as she pours.

  “Cheers,” she says, handing me a glass and holding hers out for a clink.

  “To new friendship,” I say.

  Her eyes sparkle, and I know she realizes damn well what I’m up to.

  “To the future,” she says, and we both drink.

  The alcohol burns my insides. Not unlike the venom, but at least this time, there’s a pleasurable buzzy after-effect.

  “Another?” I ask.

  She pours me a refill but leaves her own glass empty.

  I shrug and knock it back. Day drinking isn’t usually my thing, but then, this isn’t a usual day, either. I almost go for a third but then remember the conversation this opportunity presents. Frankie doesn’t say a word, clearly waiting on me to start.