Lion's Betrayal (Shifter Suspense Book 2) Read online

  He can’t see me, she told herself. The bear raised its muzzle and sniffed the air. He can’t see me and he can’t smell me. Oh God.

  She had to get out. She was still leaning against the door. All she had to do was turn the handle and she’d be out. Lock the door behind her. That would stop him for a few minutes, at least. Enough time for her to run.

  But she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even move her hand to the door handle.

  She could barely breathe.

  The bear shambled to its feet. It moved heavily, as though its limbs were weighted down. Chloe gulped. She remembered how those heavy paws had slammed into the wall only inches from her head. The bear’s limbs weren’t weighted down. They were just heavy as hell. Massive, claw-tipped mallets of flesh and bone.

  It tipped its head on one side and Chloe had to remind herself, over and over, that it couldn’t see her it couldn’t smell her and it couldn’t hear her. It couldn’t. The scale kept her safe.

  The bear huffed and lumbered towards her.

  It can’t see me it can’t hear me it can’t smell me.

  Long, broken claws clacked on the floorboards as the bear shambled towards the door. Chloe’s feet were glued to the floor.

  Maybe it couldn’t smell her but she could smell it. The thick, rotting smell that clung to the bear filled her nostrils, choking in her lungs. It was four feet away. Three. So close she could feel its foul breath.

  Mathis—

  Mathis couldn’t help her. She was in this by herself.

  Chloe threw herself sideways. The bear’s paw just grazed her side and there was a table right in front of her, covered in glitzy ornaments. Delicate, shatterable, noisy ornaments.

  She twisted in midair, landing on the floor inches away from the table. Inches away from making a noise that would have betrayed her presence.

  If the bear’s paw grazing her side hadn’t done that already.

  Chloe sprawled on the floor, too terrified to move. If the bear had noticed her—she didn’t know what she would do. She didn’t have any weapons. She was helpless, and afraid, and out of ideas.

  The bear swung its heavy head around. It sniffed at its paw. It would have been almost funny if Chloe wasn’t so terrified.

  And then it turned away, fumbled at the latch with one massive paw, and left.

  The door swung shut behind it, and Chloe collapsed like a puppet whose strings had all been cut.

  It didn’t see me. She gulped in a ragged breath. And it was too stupid to figure out I was here. Thank God.

  And my phone…

  Chloe’s gasping breaths dissolved into desperate giggles. Her phone was still buzzing. In her terror, she hadn’t even noticed it.

  And neither had the polar bear shifter.

  “Fucking hell, Harper,” she choked out between giggles. “You run your own fucking death island, and you have an unsecured Wi-Fi network in your villain’s lair?”

  She pulled out her phone. It had automatically connected to the network the moment the door opened—there must be some sort of dampener in the outer walls of the tower. And now hundreds and hundreds of notifications were pouring in. Months’ worth of them.

  So many that Chloe could barely do anything on the phone without one popping up. She swiped them away, hissing with irritation and trying not to read them.

  Friends. Family. Names flashed by but she couldn’t let herself pause long enough to read them. She had to focus.

  Then maybe she’d see them again one day.

  She blinked until her eyes cleared enough for her to navigate to her email app. She typed in the address Mathis had given her—his sister’s—and the short message they’d agreed on.

  Coordinates. Names. A secret phrase that meant Francine would know just how serious things were.

  Mathis had told her his sister must know something was wrong. They had a special connection, being twins and shifters. They could always tell when the other one was in danger.

  Well, her Spidey-sense must have been going haywire for the last month, Chloe thought. I hope she’s ready and waiting to hit “go” on a rescue mission…

  Fingers crossed, Chloe hit Send.

  Sending. Sending… gone.

  Chloe was about to leave when her phone buzzed again. Another new email.

  An out-of-office.

  From Mathis’ sister.

  Chloe read it, hardly able to believe what her eyes were seeing. Francine Delacourt was on indefinite leave. Urgent messages to be sent to the acting CEO. This email is being monitored but please allow forty-eight hours for…

  Chloe’s fingers clenched around the phone. She didn’t have forty-eight hours. Neither did Mathis. And they sure as hell didn’t have forty-eight hours for some assistant to flick over the email and probably pass it off as spam or a phishing scam.

  Why didn’t I ask him for more addresses? Chloe’s hand was shaking. Their plan had relied on workaholic Francine, whom Mathis had assured her was constantly glued to her phone, receiving the message. Email only. Apparently billionaire heiresses didn’t do phone calls from unknown numbers.

  And now it turned out she was on freaking vacation.

  “What the hell am I meant to do now?” Chloe asked the empty room, her voice cracking.

  Whatever you can.

  Chloe blinked. The voice was hers, but also… not hers. She shivered, then steadied herself.

  All right, voice inside my head. You have a good point.

  Do whatever she could? She could only think of one thing. And it was sure as hell not going to make Mathis happy.

  Chloe opened another app and started to upload the video of the fight between Mathis and the wolf shifter. It was slow. Too slow.

  She checked the Wi-Fi connection. It had picked up the notifications okay, but it wasn’t strong enough for the plan slowly taking form inside her head.

  She needed to get closer to the source. The router.

  It must be upstairs.

  Chloe took the steps two at a time, balancing with one hand against the wall. She thought she would feel light-headed, but instead her head was clear as glass.

  The upload bar sped up. She was getting closer. Time to start drafting. Mathis wasn’t going to like it—hell, she didn’t like it—but it was what she did best, after all.

  She started typing. Hashtags. Keywords. Tagging in influencers. SEO, optimized for a very specific search engine, one she was certain must exist from everything Mathis had said about his shifter friends.

  Five drafts. Ten. One of them must go viral. Especially with the footage she was attaching to them. She selected all the distribution channels she had accounts for, and paused with her finger over the send button.

  Please don’t hate me, Mathis, she prayed, and hit Send.

  “Shit.” Of course. Nothing was instant, even on the internet. The Pending icon blinked, maddeningly slow.

  She had to stay here until it was done. It could take minutes, and maybe she didn’t have minutes. But she had to risk it.

  And while she was here…

  Chloe tore her eyes away from the blinking icon. A watched Tweet never twits, she thought, and there’s plenty else to look at here. Hell. Heaps plenty.

  She hadn’t looked around when she sprinted up the stairs. Her eyes had been glued to the phone.

  The upstairs room was an Aladdin’s cave of crazy shit.

  Chloe dropped her phone to her side as she stared around, and her mouth fell open. The entrance-level room had been glitzier than Glinda the Good Witch’s underwear, but this was something else. It was still garish enough to make Chloe wince, but it was organized.

  Like the world’s trashiest museum, Chloe thought.

  She’d expected, somewhat nauseously, that this would be the bedroom. Instead, a grid of glass-covered cabinets filled the floor. There wasn’t a speck of dust on any of them; Nora had been very thorough.

  As for what she’d been dusting…

  Chloe frowned as she made her way down the
aisle between two rows of display cases. It was just… stuff. Shoes. Some hair doodads. A few cellphones. Earrings, but not expensive looking.

  Wallets. Photos. Chloe started to feel sick.

  These weren’t museum cases. They were trophy cabinets. And she thought she could guess what a man like Harper kept trophies of.

  People like her and Mathis.

  Chloe gulped and averted her eyes. Her gaze fell on a larger cabinet at the end of the room. There was something different about this one. It was set apart from the others, with a leather-cushioned sofa in front of it. As though Harper liked to lounge in front of it and look at his treasure.

  She stepped closer. The case was different to the others. More complex. There were clear tubes running along the inside of the glass, filled with some sort of swirling black smoke. There was a strange lock on the clasp that held the glass lid on. Chloe leaned closer. It almost looked as though it was set up for the glass tubes to break if someone forced the case open—but what purpose would that serve? Covering the objects inside with glass shards and smoke?

  The objects inside the case gleamed, lit from below by soft display lights. It was too dark for her to see them clearly from here. Chloe had an impression of swirling blues and purples, like the colors made by spilled gas on concrete. Smooth curves.

  Chloe gasped. They looked like eggs—but not any sort of eggs she’d seen before. Each one was as big as her head, with a dimpled surface that made them seem to change color in the soft white light. Green. Blue. Purple. Black.

  There was a sound behind her. Footsteps? Chloe ignored them. No one could see her, after all. And she had to wait until her messages were sent. She leaned over with her hands on her thighs, staring at the eggs.

  What sort of creature laid eggs like that?

  Take a photo. Chloe’s fingers itched, but she didn’t touch the camera app on her phone. Getting evidence of Harper’s insanity out there was one thing, but these eggs must be one of Harper’s pieces of leverage. And Chloe had a pretty good idea who he was using them to control.

  “Feeling better, Ms. Kent?”

  Julian Rouse. Speak of the devil.

  Chloe’s mouth went dry. She spun around, trying to slip her phone back into her pocket, but Julian’s hand darted out and grabbed her wrist.

  “How did you get in here?” Julian’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got one of my scales on you. Where?”

  Chloe’s hand flew automatically to where it was hidden. “Uh… basically, my cleavage…”

  Julian snatched his hand away. “Ah,” he said. His mouth made shapes, as though he was looking for more words and completely failing to find them.

  “If you want it back…”

  Julian stepped back, his face becoming absolutely expressionless. “That won’t be necessary. Though you should be thankful Harper sent me to fetch you, instead of one of the staff. If anyone else had found your bedroom empty the whole island would be on high alert by now.”

  “Sent to fetch me? What are you talking about? And how did you find me here, anyway?”

  Julian waved her question away. “I can tell when people are using pieces of my power. But that’s not important right now. You need to come with me.” His eyes went dark. “It’s Mathis.”

  CHAPTER 21

  MATHIS

  The world had disappeared. Mathis was only aware of himself, and that only barely. He didn’t all seem to be there. Bits were missing. Floating away.

  There was a constant low buzzing in the back of his mind, like a badly tuned television. White noise from a badly tuned brain. Food would help. Or Chloe, though he wished that wasn’t true. Wished she’d never come here, that she was far away, safe from it all. Safe from Harper. Safe from him.

  He had failed her. Chloe deserved better than to be tied to a fool who’d fallen so easily for Harper’s trap.

  At least it won’t be for long.

  The thought tasted bitter in his mind. He knew it was coming. Harper had forced him to fight to the end of his body’s strength, and he’d pushed himself further. For the plan.

  For Chloe.

  At least he could be sure his body was going to give out before his mind. He wouldn’t end up like that poor ibex shifter, her human mind lost and her animal self crazed with fear.

  Mathis drifted for a while, his mind floating above the white noise, above the deep ache of wounds that weren’t healing properly. That would never heal properly.

  It didn’t matter. Mathis felt like it should, somehow. The end of him. Shouldn’t it hurt? Shouldn’t he be afraid?

  Nothing. He floated through endless gray fog, and nothing touched him.

  Nothing from the outside, at least. No teeth. No claws. And he had one thought inside him, keeping his heart warm.

  Chloe’s safe. He can’t hurt her now. She’ll stay hidden…

  “What happened to him? What did Harper do?”

  Chloe’s voice seemed to come from a long way away. Someone replied to her, their voice a muddy blur. Mathis didn’t try to listen. He was focused on his mate, icy horror pouring through his body.

  She didn’t hide. She’s here.

  He won’t keep her alive after you’re gone.

  “No,” he cried out, except the word didn’t go anywhere. It bounced inside his head. Had he even said anything?

  *No!* he screamed, and felt someone throw up a telepathic barrier, the psychic equivalent of putting their hands over their ears. *Chloe!*

  He struggled out of the fog, coming back into his body. Back into the world. Into pain.

  He hurt. Everything hurt.

  What did I do?

  Chloe was somewhere out there, somewhere past the pain that lanced through him with every breath. He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to say, You have to run. Wanted to lie to her, tell her Everything’s fine, I’m fine—it was the polar bear shifter—Harper sent him in after I refused to calm down, but I beat him…

  Or had he? Mathis shook his head, trying to line up the snapshots of memory that had come up out of the fog with him. He remembered turning to fight the bear, but after that it got fuzzy.

  “Mathis? Mathis, can you hear me?” Chloe’s voice was like cool water on his thumping brain. He tried to reply, but his mouth wasn’t working properly.

  He felt small hands slide under his head, pulling it up to rest on a warm lap. Chloe. Her fingers brushed over his forehead and down his cheek. Soft skin against his sweat-matted fur.

  Fur? Mathis’ brain stirred. He was still in his lion shape. How could that be possible? He always shifted back after the fights. Even when he was hurt.

  Chloe stroked his forehead again. “God, Mathis, what happened?”

  This time he managed to make a noise, even if it wasn’t words. He was lying on something cool and hard. The floor? But not the concrete of the gym—it was smoother than that…

  “Give him this. He’ll need food.” A man. Julian? Mathis pulled up an image of the man in his mind. The dragon shifter. Harper’s lapdog… who kept trying to keep him and Chloe alive.

  Maybe Sven was right. Maybe the other prisoners here were as desperate to keep things from escalating as he was.

  Too late for that.

  “If he can even eat it in this condition…” Chloe. Something cool pressed against his lips, and then sweet liquid dripped into his mouth. Mathis swallowed. It was some sort of energy drink. Something to give his body the energy to heal enough to take in more nutrients…

  So he could fight again.

  He closed his mouth. He couldn’t do it anymore. Maybe if he stayed weak, Harper would give him time to recover. The mate bond couldn’t be strong enough yet for him to risk moving to step two, surely? He still had time. Chloe still had time. And even if he was like this, injured, more time with Chloe was sweeter than anything else he could think of.

  “Mathis, drink it. Please.” Chloe’s springy hair brushed against his forehead. She whispered in his ear. “It’s all done, Mathis. What we talked about. Please. Yo
u need to recover.”

  Mathis knew Julian could probably hear her whisper, but for this one moment he didn’t care. Let him wonder what she meant and whether he should report it to the man who held his leash.

  He was with his mate. Nothing else mattered.

  He opened his eyes. Chloe’s face was inches above his, and when she saw him looking up at her, a smile dawned on her lips.

  “Hey,” she whispered. Then she took a deep breath, and her smile faded away.

  She looked up at a shadowy figure that must be Julian, and then back at Mathis, biting her bottom lip. “Just stay like this for now, okay? As a lion. I don’t know how much you remember, but you were in a pretty bad way after—after the fight.” Her voice dropped. “You still are. Julian carried you back here in his dragon shape.”

  Mathis raised his head, biting back a snarl as pain lanced through his skull. He couldn’t speak to her in this form—maybe Julian could pass on his telepathic messages, but right now Mathis didn’t want anything to do with the dragon shifter. He sighed heavily and, even though he knew it was useless, tried to whisper into Chloe’s mind: *Harper? Is he bored yet? Does he know our bond is becoming stronger?*

  Chloe didn’t hear him, of course. She ran her fingers through his mane, over and over, her gaze becoming unfocused. Mathis ached with the need to communicate with her. To pull her out of whatever thoughts were darkening her expression—or at least be able to ask her to share them.

  After a few minutes, Chloe gave a shaky laugh. “I have no idea what’s going to happen now.” Her voice was low, pitched for only him to hear. “Harper... Harper seemed entertained. I guess. He was glad I got back in time to watch the, the rest of the fight.” She swallowed. “But you’re okay. You’re okay.”

  Mathis knew from the way she said it how close he’d been to not being okay.

  After a while, the energy drinks started to take effect. He gathered enough strength to push himself up until he was sitting Sphinx-pose, if the Sphinx had to lean against a wall to stay upright. Chloe moved with him, keeping close against his side. Julian slipped out as Chloe buried her face in Mathis’ mane and stifled a sniff.

  Everything that Mathis was ached with longing.