Tomorrow night, the pack will run, and I’ll have no choice but to run with them. And then … she couldn’t say the words, not even in her mind.
Jealousy sprouted like a noxious weed in Gideon’s soul as he imagined Victor and Kay running side by side through the night, mating under the light of the full moon. The sound of her tears was like a stake through his heart.
I’ll think of something, he promised, and hoped to hell he could keep his word.
Filled with impotent rage and a bitter sense of helplessness, Gideon stalked the dark streets of Jackson. Anger and frustration fired his hunger and he attacked the first man he saw. He felt a rush of guilt for the brutal way he assaulted his prey. Usually, he spoke to their minds, telling them not to be afraid, assuring his prey that he meant them no harm. But not tonight. Tonight, he was the monster of myth and legend, a predator without equal, without mercy, who took what he wanted, what he needed, with no regard for the mortal he preyed upon.
It was only when the man’s heartbeat grew slow and erratic, when his eyes rolled back in his head, that Gideon came to himself.
Tamping down his anger, Gideon ripped into his own flesh and let a few drops of his blood drip into the man’s mouth. Dammit, he had almost killed the guy.
As color returned to the man’s cheeks, Gideon spoke to his mind, erasing the horror of what had happened before sending the dazed mortal on his way.
Gideon stared at his wrist, watched the edges of the ragged wound knit together, leaving no trace of injury. He shook his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he had given in to the lust for blood. He didn’t count the years he had spent locked up in Verah’s basement. The women and occasional men he had preyed on back then had been a matter of survival. The people the witch had brought to him were fated to die, either at his hands or by slowly starving to death, since the witch had never seen fit to feed any of them.
Gideon shoved his hands into his pants pockets. He regretted taking those lives, but like every other creature on the planet, he had a strong sense of self-preservation. Given the same choice, he knew he would do it all again.
Moving silently through the drifting shadows of the night, he thought about the lives he had taken in the last 360 years.
In the beginning, he had kept track of every kill. He had hated himself for what he was, for the lives he had taken to sustain his own. But, as he’d told Kay, as time went on, he had learned to control his hunger. He had discovered that he could enjoy the thrill of the hunt and satisfy his thirst without sacrificing a life.
Gideon glanced around. Without noticing it, he had made his way back to the Alissano compound. He opened his senses, searching for Kay. She was in her room, asleep. A young male werewolf stood guard outside her door. Another paced restlessly below her window.
Gideon raked a hand through his hair. He couldn’t get into the main house, or even inside the perimeter fence. Alissano had made sure of that. Of course, he could try a little mind control on the werewolf standing guard below Kay’s window, but even if he managed to get inside the fence, the odds of compelling one of the werewolves inside the house were slim, since Gideon was certain that Alissano would have chosen men with strong powers of resistance to guard his daughter.
So, getting inside the Alissano house was not an option, at least not for him. But what if someone else could get inside the Alissano residence, stop the wedding, and steal the bride away? Even if Gideon couldn’t have her for himself, he might be able to arrange it so she didn’t have to marry that ass, Victor Rinaldi, or spend the rest of her life in servitude to a man she hated, forced to submit her will to that of another.
Gideon scrubbed a hand across his jaw. He knew just the person he needed. Someone who would be willing to spirit Kay away if the price was right.
Gideon stared at the single drop of dried crimson on his wrist. His blood, he mused. It was a small price to pay for Kay’s safety.
All he had to do now was figure out how to free Verah and then persuade her to do what he wanted before it was too late.
Shit. Who was he kidding? His odds of getting inside the Rinaldi compound weren’t any better than his odds of getting into Alissano’s.
Her wedding day. Kay stared at her reflection in the mirror. She recalled Gideon remarking that she was the most unhappy-looking bride he had ever seen. He should see her now, she thought glumly. She looked even worse, if that was possible. There were dark shadows under her eyes, caused by a week of restless days and sleepless nights.
Her stomach growled loudly, a reminder that she had refused breakfast and lunch; but how could she be expected to have a hearty appetite on this, the worst day of her life?
There was a knock at the door, and then her mother peeked inside. “Kiya, you’re not even dressed yet!” Dorothy entered the room, a frown creasing her brow. “You need to hurry. The ceremony starts in thirty minutes.”
“Mom, can’t you get me out of this?”
“I’m afraid not.” Dorothy removed Kay’s gown from the hanger. It was long and white, simple in cut and design, with a floor-length veil. “Keeping your father waiting will only make things worse.”
“How could they possibly be worse?” Kay muttered. She pulled the gown over her head, then turned her back so her mother could fasten the long row of cloth-covered buttons. She didn’t know who had chosen the dress. She didn’t care. “My father is forcing me to marry a man I despise with no regard for the fact that I’m already married to someone else. Someone I love. Someone I will always love.”
“You may come to love Victor.”
Kay snorted. “That will never happen! He’s nothing but an arrogant ass.”
Dorothy released an aggrieved sigh, then squared her shoulders. “Kiya, we don’t have time for this. I knew it was a mistake for Russell to let you leave the pack. Now, brush your hair and put on your shoes and your veil. Your father will be here in a few minutes.”
Kay stared at her mother, shocked as much by her words as the tone of her voice. Blinking back her tears, she ran a brush through her hair, set the veil in place, stepped into her satin pumps, then sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
Dorothy moved toward the door. Pausing, she glanced over her shoulder. “And try to smile.”
Kay shook her head after her mother left the room. Smile, ha. What did she have to smile about?
All too soon, her father knocked on the door. “Kiya?”
“Come in.”
His gaze swept over her. No doubt to make sure she was presentable. It didn’t matter that he was forcing her to marry a man she despised. No, what mattered was that she make a good impression on the pack.
Stubbornly refusing to take his hand, she swept out of the room, her head held high.
She stopped outside the dining room, where the wedding was to take place. Fresh flowers, candles, and a long white runner made the room look more like a chapel than a place to eat. The tables, laid with a variety of cold cuts and cheese, had been pushed against the walls to make room for a piano. A woman Kay didn’t recognize played softly. The invited guests were seated, chatting quietly. A white arch stood at the far end of the room. Victor waited beneath it. Her mother and Victor’s parents occupied the front row, along with Aunt Greta and Uncle Brett.
Kay flinched when her father came up behind her. “Ready, daughter?”
“I will never be ready.”
Taking her hand firmly in his, he said, “We will proceed, nevertheless.” At his nod, the piano player began to play the wedding march. The guests rose and faced the aisle. All of them smiled at Kay as she passed by, except for Selene Thomas, who glowered at her.
Before Kay could wonder at the woman’s sour look, they reached the arch. Her father placed her hand in Victor’s, then took a step forward and turned to face them.
“As Alpha of the Shadow Pack, I hereby dissolve my daughter’s previous union to one not of our blood or our faith. With that matter no longer an issue, and with the authority that is mine by right of blood, I now give my daughter, Kiya Marie Alissano, to Victor Rinaldi, to be his life mate according to the laws and dictates of our pack. Victor, do you swear to honor and protect this woman and no other all the days of your life?”
“I do.”
“Kiya Marie, do you promise to honor and obey this man and no other all the days of your life?”
She stared at her father, silently begging him to end this before it was too late. He stared back at her, a silent warning in his eyes, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
Kay yearned to say no, would have said no but for the sure knowledge that defying her Alpha now would be the last thing she ever did.
His eyes narrowed ominously at her silence. “Daughter?”
His power rolled over her. When she spoke, the words that passed her lips were a barely audible “I do.”
Her father smiled faintly. “By my authority, I now pronounce you, Kiya Marie Alissano and Victor Rinaldi, life-mated.” His smile widened. “Victor, you may kiss your bride.”
With a triumphant grin, Victor pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips grinding into hers.
“As is our custom,” Russell said, “the pack will celebrate this union with a hunt as soon as the moon rises. Until then, help yourselves to food and drink.”
As a dutiful husband, Victor brought Kay a plate and a glass of wine even though she had no appetite for either.
For the next three hours, Kay pasted a smile on her face and pretended she was having a good time. She endured the hugs of her pack mates. She accepted gifts and good wishes and bawdy advice. She dutifully danced with her father, then with Victor, then with Victor’s father, and Greta’s husband.
She listened to one story after another about the joys of wedded life and what to expect on her wedding night. Considering that she had already been married, she thought giving her marital advice was beyond peculiar, but no one mentioned her former marriage.
When the sun began to set, the guests departed to their own homes to get ready for the coming hunt.
Kay glared at Victor when he followed her to her room. “Where do you think you’re going?”