The small boy vanished into the sea of flannel and camera lenses, leaving me standing on the portico with a heart that felt like it was trying to kick its way out of my ribs.
I looked up, ignoring the flashbulbs of the press and the booming, performative baritone of Gideon's voice as he charmed the masses.
And I saw…perched on the edge of the stone gargoyle overlooking the west wing, was the silhouette. A man in a dark face mask, moving so silently with a fluidity that made everyone else on the grounds look like they were moving in slow motion.
Nyla growled in my skull. "Follow him. He smells like fun. Follow him, Elowen."
I didn't think about the consequences. Acting on pure instincts, I ducked behind a pillar, slipping past Vector, who was busy directing a group of elderly pack members, and veered toward the carriage house.
The roar of the crowd began to fade, replaced by the rhythmic thud of my heels on the cobblestones. The air here was cooler, shaded by overgrown ivy that Gideon had "meant to prune" for six months. I rounded the corner of the old storage shed, only to find the figure was gone.
I was about to turn my head around when the scent hit me. It wasn't the sandalwood of my husband or the sterile soap of Vector. It was bergamot… sharp, citrusy, and dangerously dark.
"It's HIM!" Nyla gushed with excitement.
"Jarek?" I whispered, clenching my hands. "I know you're here, so don't you try to play a dumb game with me."
"Oh, we definitely know," Nyla purred, her tail flicking in my mind's eye.
I pushed open the heavy wooden door of the storage room. It groaned on its hinges, revealing a space filled with rusted garden tools and stacks of antique chairs. Standing by the singular, dust-streaked window was the man. His back was to me, his dark hair slicked back.
"You're a long way from the Fringe, King Ashthorne," I said, crossing my hands over my chest.
He turned slowly, pulling the black mask down to hang around his neck. Even in the gloom, his beauty was an assault. It was the kind of face that belonged on an ancient, vengeful deity.
The man had a sharp jawline, eyes the color of aged sapphire, and a mouth that looked like it knew every wicked thing in the world. For a heartbeat, the breath left my body. I felt a heat bloom in my chest that had nothing to do with the summer air.
"Holy mother of the moon," Nyla whispered, panting. "Slap him or kiss him, just don't stand there like a statue."
K-kiss HIM?!
I snapped out of it, my face flushing with shame and fury. "You're a criminal! Sneaking into a private pack estate? Do you have any idea what my guards would do if they found you?"
"Your guards?" Jarek chuckled slowly, and the sound vibrated in the small room. He took a step toward me, and I instinctively backed into a stack of crates.
"Your guards are currently taking selfies with the press because your 'Alpha' decided to turn a fortress into a tourist trap. I didn't sneak in, Elo. I practically walked through the front door."
Elo? Only Dad called me that. Everyone else used "Ellie" as a pet name, never Elo.
"Don't call me that!" I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest. "And don't talk about my husband that way. He is the Alpha of the Great Lupin Pack. You are a trespasser. Are you trying to start a war? You killed my father, and now you're breaching our security?"
That seemed to hit a nerve. "I didn't kill your father! I never would have."
He was close now—close enough that I could see the blue flecks in his eyes. "And if you want to talk about security, look at the man sitting at your table. Gideon is risking your life for social media engagement. He's not an Alpha; he's an actor playing a role he isn't big enough for."
"He is an acting Alpha!" I shouted, the distinction feeling flimsy even as I said it. "And I am going to call the wardens. I am going to report you for—"
I turned to run, but his hand shot out, catching my wrist. He pulled me back with a sharp tug, spinning me around until my back hit the door and he was hovering over me, his arms braced on either side of my head.
"Report me then," he whispered, his face inches from mine.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a second, the world stopped spinning. I could feel the heat of his body, the raw, masculine power that Gideon had never possessed.
How… how could he pull me just like that–
My hand moved before my brain did. I swung, aiming for that perfect, arrogant cheek.
He caught my wrist in mid-air, pinning it against the wood. "That makes three slaps, Luna. Are we going for a record?"
"Let. Me. Go," I hissed, my chest heaving.
"In a minute," he groaned, his eyes darkening. "I came here to show you proof. Real proof, love."
"Proof of what? Your latest heist?"
"Proof that the black-market formula that killed Aurelius hadn't even been launched yet," Jarek informed, his levity vanishing. "I didn't sell it because it wasn't ready. But it seems a group within my own empire decided to play kingmaker behind my back."
I let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Oh, poor Jarek Ashthorne. The most dangerous man in the country, and he got played right under his own nose. Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?"
He didn't flinch. "I don't want your pity. I want you to listen. Those people—the ones who stole the formula? They were all found dead last night. Neatly executed. Whoever bought that poison didn't just want your father dead; they wanted to bury the transaction forever."
They were all killed? By whom? The same people who murdered my father? If it wasn't Jarek, then who was it?…
I felt a cold shiver walk down my spine. "That sounds like a 'Rogue King' problem. What does that have to do with me?"
Jarek leaned in closer, his nose brushing against mine. The scent of bergamot was overwhelming now.
"It's your business because whoever bought it didn't use a long-range delivery. They didn't need to. My investigation has led to one conclusion: the person who poisoned the Alpha is close to you. Close enough to touch his food. Close enough to pay a kitchen maid to slip it into his food or drink."
The room felt like it was tilting. I thought of the kitchen maids… Of how they'd been working with us for years. I thought about the dining room. I thought of Marisol sitting in my chair. I thought of Gideon's easy smile. Then I wondered just how that breakfast could have been our last if truly Jarek was speaking the truth.
"You're... you're implying someone in this house killed him? Someone close?"