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

  Harper met his gaze. His hand moved to the intercom button set into the window.

  “Mr. Dell,” he announced, his voice tainted with a smug superiority that made Mathis’ insides crawl.

  “What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Harper?” Mathis yelled, sheltering Chloe in his arms.

  Harper smiled. “I told you I’d get your request sorted by dinner, didn’t I?” He made a show of checking the time on his watch. “Just on time. I’m so glad you weren’t late.”

  Chloe wriggled in Mathis’ arms, turning to face Harper and the silent figures standing behind him. “What is this—some sort of sick trust exercise?” she gasped.

  “Ah. The interloper speaks at last,” Harper sneered. “Did you really think I hadn’t noticed what you were up to, Ms. Kent?”

  Chloe’s spine stiffened against Mathis. He squeezed her reassuringly, glaring up at Harper.

  Harper grinned. The change in his appearance was striking. He looked as open and friendly as he had when Mathis first met him.

  It was all fake, Mathis thought grimly.

  “I’m so glad I left dealing with you until today, Ms. Kent. What luck that you and Matty here have such a special connection.”

  “What?” Chloe muttered.

  Harper kept smiling, but his eyes were hard. “I hope you both understand what this little demonstration was in aid of. Sorry, Matt, but you’re prime meat—I can’t just let you leave! You’ll stay here, and fight for me and my guests… or your mate will pay the price.”

  CHAPTER 10

  CHLOE

  Shit. Shit-fuck-shit. He knows why I’m here?

  Chloe was so shocked by Harper’s revelation that it took her a moment to understand the implications of what he had just said. When she did, it felt like someone had thumped her in the stomach.

  She was a hostage.

  If it wasn’t for Mathis’ arms around her, she would have collapsed. This wasn’t meant to happen. She was meant to get some incriminating pics, fake sudden illness, and get shipped back to the mainland to work on her exposé from the comfort of her office-slash-bed.

  Not discover a secret society of people who could turn into animals. Not have her world be turned upside down by a man whose lion shone through in his addictive smile.

  Not be fucking kidnapped, and almost murdered by a fucking polar bear.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  “Don’t worry,” Mathis breathed in her ear. “I’m going to get us out of this.”

  Chloe wished she could believe him. Mathis seemed like a sweet guy, but he was as helpless here as she was. She gulped. Sure, he could turn into a lion—but was that really an advantage on an island where everyone else could transform into some huge animal, too?

  Her mind was tripping over itself. Lions. Bears. Was there a tiger here somewhere, too?

  Shit. A hostage? This is really happening? What am I going to do now?

  She barely registered the sound of a door opening behind her. Only when Mathis tugged at her arm did she realize they were being escorted out.

  I’ve got to figure out a way to get out of here. But her mind was fuzzy with shock. The restless, reckless energy that usually kept her going was weak, as though it was hiding deep inside her.

  Mathis was holding her around the waist, and right now, he felt like the only solid thing in the world. She leaned her cheek against him, and it came away sticky.

  Every muscle in her back clenched. She didn’t need to wipe her face to know what it was. She could smell it. Blood.

  Mathis’ blood. From his fight. And he’d have to fight more, now, with her as collateral.

  She had to get out of here. Had to get them both out of here. She just needed time to get her head straight—figure out what options she had…

  Kidnapped. On an island. With a bunch of were…. Were-everythings.

  And my phone isn’t working.

  Shit.

  Whatever her options were, there weren’t many of them. In fact, she couldn’t think of any.

  “Ah. Ms. Kent.”

  Chloe jumped as Gerald Harper seemed to dissolve out of the shadows. Mathis was in front of her at once, shielding her with his body.

  Gerald tutted. “Now now, Mr. Dell. Don’t be so rude. I was only going to invite your lovely mate to dinner. And yourself as well, of course.”

  Chloe found her voice. “We’re not interested,” she said, as evenly as she could manage. She needed to talk to Mathis alone. She wasn’t sure whether he’d understood Harper’s sly remark about her—but she needed to come clean with him all the same. She couldn’t lie to him, especially not in these circumstances.

  She felt sick. Especially not if Harper was expecting Mathis to fight for her safety. He deserved to know who he was fighting for.

  Harper was still talking. “I’m afraid you’ll be joining me regardless, Ms. Kent. Hostages don’t get many options when it comes to meal arrangements. I’m sure you understand.”

  Harper was smiling benignly. He made a beckoning motion and walked off. For a split second, Chloe thought he was leaving them to their own devices—but of course he wasn’t.

  Mathis took her arm as the polar bear shifter loomed forward from where he had been standing behind Harper. The scarred man jerked his head towards Harper, and motioned for them to follow him.

  Chloe glued herself to Mathis as they walked down the corridor, keeping so close she almost tripped over his feet.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

  She wished she could believe him.

  ***

  Harper’s mood improved even more when they reached the dining room. It was as gaudy as the rest of the residence, the far wall a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window that cast sickly patches of color onto the gold-and-marble finishings.

  Julian was waiting for them, standing in front of the garish window. His face set in grim resignation as he saw Chloe and Mathis follow his boss in.

  “Mr. Harper—” he began, and Harper cut him off with an impatient wave.

  “No need to congratulate me, Julian. Thank yourself for being proof of concept.”

  Julian’s expression went completely blank. Chloe glared at him, but she didn’t have enough space in her mind to wonder what the hell his problem was. She had enough of her own.

  Harper corralled her as she tried to sit down next to Mathis. “Uh-uh, Ms. Kent,” he chided her, smiling happily. “Come, sit next to me.”

  Chloe’s skin crawled as she took the seat next to Harper at the head of the table. Then she looked across at Mathis and her heart twisted.

  He was trying to hide it, but the fight with the polar bear had been hard on him. Chloe winced in sympathy, watching the careful way he steadied himself with one hand on the table as he lowered himself onto the seat.

  She wanted to reach out to him, support him and show him how grateful she was for his protection. More than that, she wanted to make sure he wasn’t quietly bleeding to death on the other side of the table.

  Her throat closed over. He healed quickly, she’d seen that last night—but the fight with the polar bear had been so vicious. What if he was more wounded than he was letting on?

  “Mr. Harper,” she said, as politely as she could manage. “Do you think Mathis and I could be excused for a few minutes? He needs some first aid, and—”

  “Certainly not,” said Harper promptly.

  “But I—”

  “Now, now, Ms. Kent. Look around! What an opportunity we all have now, to really get to know each other.” He snapped his fingers and the doors opened, letting in a stream of stony-faced waitstaff. “Such as you, Ms. Kent. I am very interested to find out more about you. And I’m sure Matty here is, too.”

  Chloe’s terror must have been clear on her face, because Harper laughed gleefully. “What an exciting day this is turning out to be for all of us. And now some drinks, I think. Julian?”

  As Harper looked away, Ma
this stretched out his hand across the table. Chloe took it without thinking.

  “It’s all right,” Mathis told her, his eyes locked on to hers. “I’m going to get this sorted out.”

  How? Chloe didn’t dare to say it aloud, but doubt must have been clear on her face. Mathis squeezed her hand. She tried not to notice the drying blood that flaked off onto the table.

  Julian returned to the table with a bucket of champagne and glasses. He poured, and Harper raised his glass, beaming.

  “A toast,” he declared, and then paused. “Pick up your glasses. Please.”

  His eyes landed on Chloe and Mathis’ hands, clasped across the table. Chloe fought a sudden urge to pull her hand away and hide it behind her back.

  She picked up her flute with her other hand, fingers trembling. Mathis did the same.

  Harper sniffed. “How romantic. A toast, then—to the ties that bind us all together.”

  Mathis met Chloe’s eyes as he raised his own glass. “To new connections.”

  Chloe mumbled something, incoherent even to herself, and took a too-large mouthful of champagne. She blinked furiously as the bubbles made her eyes water, almost missing Mathis turn towards Harper.

  “All right, Gerald,” Mathis said calmly, and it took Chloe another second to remember that Harper’s first name was Gerald. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but Chloe and I are going to leave. Now.”

  Harper sat back, his eyes glittering. He took another sip of champagne, and Chloe’s skin crawled. Excitement seemed to simmer under Harper’s skin like the bubbles fizzing from their glasses.

  “Is that so?” he said at last.

  “Yeah.” Mathis squeezed Chloe’s hand and she looked back at him. He mouthed something: she thought he was saying, I’m sorry.

  Chloe frowned. What did he have to be sorry about? If he had some way of getting them out of here, she would forgive him anything.

  CHAPTER 11

  MATHIS

  Mathis smiled reassuringly at Chloe, squeezing her fingers. When he turned his eyes back on Harper, he let his face settle into barely disguised disgust. Why bother hiding it now?

  “You,” Mathis growled. How could he ever have thought Harper’s face was friendly and open? It was all a mask, hiding his rotten soul. “You’ve made a huge mistake, Gerald Harper.”

  “Really? From where I’m standing, everything seems to be going perfectly.” Harper’s smile became even brighter.

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

  This time, Harper laughed out loud. “What? Some drifter who gets his face bashed in on a nightly basis for a bit of under-the-table cash?”

  Mathis gritted his teeth. He’d lived this lie for months—but it had outlived its usefulness. He’d have to explain to Chloe later. “I’m no drifter. And my name isn’t Matt Dell. It’s Mathis Delacourt. My pride owns half of New York City—”

  “Sure you are, Matty.” Harper’s voice was condescending, but his eyes narrowed to slits.

  “Ask Grayson Masters.” It was all Mathis could do not to stand up and shake Harper until his teeth rattled. He took a deep breath. “My father was good friends with his brother, the old alpha of the Masters pride. If I can just talk to Grayson—”

  “Grayson isn’t here.” Harper’s voice was clipped. “He left earlier this morning on unexpected business. Probably more trouble with his nephew. Or...” He chuckled. “Who knows, maybe he did recognize you.”

  Mathis stomach felt hollow. He can’t mean…? He shook himself. He’s just trying to unnerve you. Like in a fight—if he ever fought his own, instead of paying others to do it for his entertainment. He’s lying. No lion would abandon another like that.

  But if Grayson isn’t here to vouch for me…

  “Call my pride,” he said confidently. “Any one of them will confirm my identity.”

  Harper’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Mathis… Delacourt,” he murmured, barely audible. He rolled the name around in his mouth, like a piece of unwanted gristle. “Ah.”

  Mathis took a deep breath and squeezed Chloe’s fingers. Now he gets it.

  “Tell you what,” Mathis said, grinning through the itch of blood drying on his face, “You throw me the keys to your boat and we’ll say no more about it. How does that sound?”

  Chloe was squeezing his hand so hard her knuckles were turning white. Mathis brushed his thumb over them, and Chloe winced apologetically.

  It’s all right, Mathis wanted to say, but he wouldn’t say it out loud, not in front of Harper. We’ll get off this ridiculous island, and Harper will see what happens to shifters who prey on each other like this.

  Harper tutted quietly.

  “That’s a generous offer, Mr.… Delacourt,” Harper said, drawing out Mathis’ surname. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

  “What?”

  Mathis couldn’t believe his ears. He stood up, sending his chair clattering across the hardwood floor.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chloe pull her hand back, but his full attention was on Harper. The man sat back in his chair, regarding Mathis with a look of amused tolerance.

  “I believe I was quite clear, Mr. Delacourt. If that is who you are. Your offer is appreciated, but not required. I am quite happy to continue according to our previous plans.” His lips thinned in a smile that revealed only a sliver of grey-white teeth.

  “You’re joking.” Mathis resisted the urge to shout out the cliché he’d always hated so much: Don’t you know who I am? “My pride—”

  “—Don’t appear to realize you have even gone missing, let alone show any signs of wanting to find you,” Harper continued smoothly. “Private as you lions tend to be, I’m sure I would have heard if an American pride had lost its golden boy. Would I be right in assuming you have, in fact, misled them about your activities the last few months, while you’ve been play-acting as Matt Dell? No need to answer—I can tell from the look on your face that I’ve hit the mark.” He took another leisurely sip of champagne. “Really, what with the false identities and lying to your so-called loved ones, you and Ms. Kent are made for one another.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Mathis regretted them. Chloe’s sharp intake of breath cut into him.

  Harper chuckled. “Are you sure you’re a Delacourt, Matty? No wonder your pride isn’t bothered about bringing you back into the fold, if you’re too blind to see the parasite you’ll bring with you.”

  Mathis squared his shoulders. Protective rage was boiling through him, fizzing in his veins. “How dare you speak about her like that?”

  “I’m only trying to open your eyes to the truth, Matty,” Harper sneered. “You may think I’m a monster—but how long did it take you to spill our people’s secrets to a human journalist?”

  Mathis’ heart constricted. He spun around to Chloe, ready to urge her to tell Harper he’d got it wrong, but the words died on his lips.

  Chloe had gone so pale he worried she was about to faint. She opened her mouth and licked her lips, but couldn’t speak. Her hand trembled so much her champagne flute chinked against the table.

  She didn’t meet his eye. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” she whispered through white lips.

  “Of course not,” Harper sneered. His lips peeled back from his teeth. “You were just going to keep it to yourself, weren’t you? Your little secret. Well, it’ll damned well stay a secret now.”

  Mathis’ heart sank. Deep inside him, his lion growled, disbelieving. His mate would never betray him. Chloe couldn’t have lied to him.

  But she seemed very keen to leave the island as soon as you told her about shifters, a treacherous voice inside him said. His lion hissed at it.

  Mathis stared at Chloe, willing her to look at him, to tell him Harper was lying. But she wouldn’t meet his eye.

  “Aha,” said Harper happily as the doors behind them opened again, “Dinner is served. Be seated, please, Mr. Delacourt.”<
br />
  Mathis retrieved his chair from across the room and sat down heavily. His lion roared at him to fight back, that he should be ashamed of himself for capitulating so easily to Gerald Harper’s demands—but his human mind was too dazed to think of fighting back.

  Chloe lied to me.

  His mind skittered back over every moment they’d spent together. Somehow, he was surprised to realize just how little time that was. He’d seen her in the viewing window—and had fallen head over heels, so hard he hadn’t even questioned why she was trying to find a Wi-Fi signal so far away from the inhabited parts of the island.

  Now he knew. She’d been trying to get the news out about shifters.

  It was like taking a blow straight to the chest. Everything hurt, and his heart most of all.

  His mouth went dry. This isn’t how it’s meant to be. Everyone knew that. When you found your mate, everything fell into place. Like it had last night, when everything seemed so simple.

  Still not wanting to believe that what Harper was saying was true, he reached out to Chloe telepathically. He hadn’t expected her to feel it, let alone respond—but her sudden flinch sent knives into his heart.

  You should have known something would go wrong. The thought scraped at his insides, leaving him hollow. His skin itched as a hundred small wounds healed. He closed his eyes and waited for the hollow space inside him to crack open again. You should have known it wouldn’t last. Nothing lasts.

  For a moment, blackness overtook him. He was empty and hollow, and there was a gaping hole inside him where his lion should be.

  Mathis fell into the void, scrambling at emptiness. There was nothing. No warm animal self, no answering roar to his silent cry for help.

  Pain shafted through him, pulling him back into the world. Mathis opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Chloe staring across the table at him, her eyes wide.

  His arm hurt. He glanced sideways in time to see Julian pull his hand away from his wrist, sharp claws shimmering out of existence.

  Julian reached out again a moment later, depositing cutlery in perfect alignment around Mathis’ place setting. There was nothing but the sting in Mathis’ wrist to suggest anything had happened.