Moonlit Betrayal (Alpha Ascension

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MOONLIT BETRAYAL
ALPHA ASCENSION CHRONICLES
BOOK 1
MILLY TAIDEN
 CONTENTS

About the Book

Moonlit Betrayal

1. Kiera
2. Elijah
3. Kiera
4. Elijah
5. Kiera
6. Elijah
7. Kiera
8. Elijah
9. Kiera
10. Elijah
11. Kiera
12. Elijah
13. Kiera
14. Elijah
15. Kiera
16. Elijah
17. Kiera
18. Elijah
19. Kiera
20. Elijah
21. Kiera

About the Author

Also by Milly Taiden
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By
Latin Goddess Press
Winter Springs, FL 32708
http://millytaiden.com
Moonlit Betrayal
Copyright © 2023 by Milly Taiden

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Property of Milly Taiden
December 2023

Created with Vellum

 ABOUT THE BOOK

Private investigator Kiera Moore lives life as she wants and answers to no one. She left that behind long ago and now lived as
a lone wolf shifter … no pack, no alpha, no problem! That’s all great until an investigation brings her face-to-face with the
first man who could make her strong will shatter…her mate.
Elijah Winds, the new alpha of the Northern Winds pack, keeps finding the bodies of his murdered pack mates and doesn’t
have a clue why his people are being targeted. So when PI Kiera comes to investigate, he has an extra problem added to
the mix. She’s stunning, smart-mouthed, intelligent and he can’t keep his hands off her.
The killer is smart, leaving no evidence behind and quickly manipulating Kiera and Elijah, turning the pack against them. If
Elijah can’t get Kiera to open her heart to him, then the only happy ending will be for the rogue wolf wanting power
over the pack.
MOONLIT BETRAYAL
 ALPHA ASCENSION CHRONICLES 1

NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

MILLY TAIDEN
—For my readers. Enjoy a hot new series.

I love you all!

ONE
 KIERA

I swear, sometimes they make this too easy, Kiera thought smugly as she watched her suspect attempt to hide himself as he
snaked his way through the busy city bustle, wrongly assuming he was being inconspicuous. Quite the opposite. His
behavior made him even more obvious, which was exactly why Kiera was irritated with the lack of challenge.
Her wolf senses made it impossible for humans to hide from her. And the fact that this suspect was a complete moron made
it even less fun.
Kiera easily made her way through the people-filled streets. Everyone was popping up their umbrellas or rudely pushing
past one another to avoid the dampness of the rain. Kiera enjoyed the overcast day, however.
She stood without cover, letting her short red hair become matted to her angled face. She took a whiff of air. The musty
smell only made it easier for Kiera’s nose to pick up the individual scents. She pulled back a bit, letting her thief linger ahead.
“Let him think he’s safe. His surprise could be entertaining,” she muttered to herself.
Being a private investigator was more pleasure-filled work than anything else. She got to be her own boss and answer to
no alpha.
Kiera didn’t care that she wasn’t part of a pack. She learned a long time ago that she could only trust herself, and that’s the
way she intended to keep it. Though she had been heavily pursued by attempts at recruitment by big firms, she was only too
happy to turn them all down.
She was a damn good investigator. Sure, her shifter abilities gave her the upper hand, but that was her simply using her gifts
to help the less fortunate. Kiera also had a thirst to deliver justice to those who thought they were well above it. The city was
full of people being preyed upon. Kiera let a smile tug at her lips as she thought about the irony of the wolf protecting the
sheep.
She caught a whiff of panic and saw her target suddenly freeze.
“Don’t do it,” she breathed as she pretended to look at a newsstand, keeping her distance.
Kiera hadn’t given herself away. She had kept out of his sight most of the time. One deeper sniff of the air told her wolf
sense that paranoia had infected her target. The moment she smelled it, she knew he was going to do precisely what she wasn’t
in the mood for with this particular perpetrator. He was about to run.
Sure enough, the tall, newly-drenched human took a swift look around, tensed, and then took off.
“Shit,” Kiera mumbled as she pushed a love-struck couple who were sharing an umbrella out of her way to pursue her
target.
It wouldn’t have bothered her as much if she wasn’t in the city and had been able to shift. Chasing things in human form was
not nearly as fun or effective. Especially when countering the fear factor. That alone was worth the shift, but she resisted,
knowing the penalty for exposing herself, especially if doing it in front of so many humans.
The man looked behind him and saw Kiera in pursuit. He quickened his pace after giving a look of fresh horror.
Kiera continued to curse him as she wove through the crowds, hoping he was dumb enough to try to lose her through one of
the alleys.
Sure as shit, he was.
Her keen eyesight caught him bobbing quickly to the left before disappearing. She slowed her pace, took a deep inhale, and
found his scent had gone where she suspected.
So predictable. She rolled her eyes as she paused and listened to the pathetic man’s attempt to hold his breath and hide in
the shadows, not knowing his stench alone made him an easy target … at least for her.
She smiled. She knew exactly where he was. Another whiff told her no one else was in the alley with him besides maybe a
few rats.
I’m over this, she thought, deciding using a few abilities to quicken this up wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Kiera darted swiftly and effortlessly toward the unsuspecting dark figure. Before he knew what had happened, she had him
pinned against the building.
He was taller than her but your typical pathetic-petty-thief build. His struggle was nothing to her. The harder he tried, the
more she smiled while tightening her grip on his long throat.
The man clawed at her hand ineffectively.
“Hold still and cooperate, or this will get worse.”
“I don’t know what you think I did, but I didn’t do it.”
Kiera let out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, okay. First off, I never said I thought you did anything. How do you know I’m not out
collecting money?”
“Oh shit. Are you collecting for Tony? I’ll pay him.”
Another laugh from the shifter.
“I knew you had to be a gambler too if you fit every other stereotype. No, I’m actually here based on your first assumption.
Now, will you comply?”
He spit at her. “No woman is going to boss me around. Who do you think you are, you little bitch?”
Kiera slowly wiped his saliva off her before flinging it back onto him. “Just beautiful.”
In a blur of motion, Kiera had his arm bent behind him, slamming his face against the wall as she whipped out a rope she
had tucked away in her trench coat. She kept her body and elbow shoved into him while she hobbled him. Once done, she
dragged him through the back door of the vacant building.
He fell to the floor when she shoved him inside. Unable to get up, he squirmed on the musty concrete. It was rather comical
for Kiera. She watched his fruitless efforts for only a short time before she got bored.
She kicked him to get his attention. “Okay, that’s enough. Stop fidgeting.”
He froze.
“Now, if you tell me what I need to know, then you can run back to your pathetic life and hope we never cross paths again.
Would you like that?”
Afraid to be verbal, he nodded feverishly.
Wow, no backbone at all. “Okay. We’ll start with some simple questions just to make sure we’re on the same page.” She
stalked to his head so that she loomed over him as he stayed lying on his side. “Your name is Todd River?”
Another nod.
“What do you do for work, Todd?”
No answer, just a wide-eyed stare. Kiera made her boot encourage him to speak.
“I’m in between jobs.”
“Of course you are,” she mumbled. “So, what do you do for money?”
“Nothing.”
“Let me make this easier. Since you were running from me, maybe you should assume I already know the answer, so the
truth would be a good choice.”
“I do odd jobs,” came a whimper.
“Like a for-instance?”
He mumbled something that she couldn’t quite hear.
“What was that?”
“Dognapping.”
Kiera placed her food on his slender white throat, wishing it could be her jaw clamped around it instead. “And why the
fuck would you kidnap a dog to make money?”
She was more sensitive to this than she cared to be. She may have been a shifter, but that still made her wolf angry. She had
a hard time with people owning pets, let alone stealing them for profit.
“I don’t know. Ransom, I guess. We thought we could convince some rich person who loves their dog to pay a nice amount
for the dumb thing back.” Todd was spilling his guts without any fight. Still, Kiera couldn’t help but continue to press her foot
deeper into his throat until his confessions turned hoarse. She was finding it hard to pull up.
Finally finding the focus to stop, she lifted her foot. He clutched at his throat, gasping for air.
“My God, you’re dramatic,” she scoffed.
“You were on my throat!”
She rolled her eyes. “Where’s the dog you took?”
He held his throat and glared at her. “You have no proof of anything. I don’t know what dog you’re talking about.”
“Save it. I’m not in the mood. You’re gonna tell me what I need to know, and I need to know where the fuck the dog is, you
piece of shit.” Kiera was already irritated she was retrieving a dog for its owners. This clown was on her last nerve.
“There is no d…”
“Listen. I’m done asking.” She rolled him over roughly and dug his wallet out of his back pocket. “Bet you’re the type of
dumb ass to keep it at your place.”
She pulled his ID out and read his address. “Perfect. I know where this is at. Let’s go.” She grabbed his collar and yanked
him to his feet. There wasn’t much he could do but be led by her.
 The drive to his residence was filled with his protests about how she couldn’t do this and that the people who owned the
dog could easily afford to get it back, especially if they had the money to hire her.
“What am I gonna do for money? I need rent. I need …”
“Oh, shut up.” Kiera elbowed him in the head, causing him to hit it against the passenger window.
“Ow!”
“Do you know all the more important things I could be doing rather than wasting my time with you?” she snapped.
Todd said nothing, still tending to the growing bump on his head.
“I swear, this dog better be at your house, or else this is going to get a lot worse for you.”
“It is, it is. I promise,” he quaked, flinching away from her.
Kiera pulled up to a run-down brick building. She got out and pulled her captive with her to his door. She could smell
which apartment was his and saved time by not asking.
Once at the door, she heard yelping on the other side. Peeking through the torn screen, she saw a fluffy Pomeranian with a
diamond-studded collar yapping.
She let him open the door and took the dog with no fuss. She could tell he just wanted to forget the day and be rid of her.
Same, man. Same.
Fifteen minutes later, the dog was returned to its rightful home.
“Not a problem.” Kiera flashed her practiced you’re-welcome smile at the very put-together, well-dressed woman now
snuggling her award-winning dog. The guy wasn’t wrong. If he had been smart enough to ransom the dog sooner, he would
have easily made a chunk. Kiera made sure to keep that thought to herself, though.
She was sure that the woman was nice enough and took great care of the animal, but she couldn’t stand humans owning pets.
It bothered her to a whole other level.
It made her think about when her pack dabbled in selling off some of the pups to circuses or any freak show for profit,
making promises to the parents how it was what was best for the diversity of the pack. When Kiera’s dad left, causing her
mother to spiral into a deep depression, she left the pack, knowing it was only a matter of time before she reached the same fate
with no parent to speak up for her.
This was why Kiera had stayed a lone wolf. She didn’t need a pack for protection. Shifters were just as shady as humans in
her eyes. She looked out for herself, and that was the only way she knew she’d be safe.
“Thank you again! Really.” The blonde beamed, snapping her out of a not-so-great memory lane.
Kiera nodded politely as she backed off of the steps with a little wave. “Absolutely.” She turned and slid into her car.
She decided a nice bourbon would be good after today. But before she could put her keys in the ignition, her phone rang.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she groaned, pulling the vibrating contraption from her jeans. “Hello?”
“Kiera? You know that small town outside of the city? You should get here ASAP.”
Her heart dropped, already knowing what would come next. She asked anyway. “What is it, Ron?”
“There’s been another shifter attack.”
TWO
 ELIJAH

“T heir“That’s
fences are on our side. It’s infringing on my property!”
not where your land starts, and you know it,” snapped the defendant.
“Enough,” growled their alpha. The two older pack members bit their tongues, but Elijah could tell they only took his threat
half-heartedly.
He looked around the pack hall where the debate was being held. Unfortunately, a crowd had gathered in the usually empty
benches wanting to see how the new alpha handled his shit. This was a test, and Elijah was well aware of it. He could feel the
pressure but would not let it make him waiver. He knew what kind of alpha he was.
“Edmund, I may be the new alpha, but I’m not naïve to your antics. I know you know exactly where your boundary is, and
the only reason you’re pushing this is because you don’t like his boy with your daughter.” Elijah watched the bigger man let a
look of surprise wash over his face before catching it.
“That’s got nothing to do with it.”
“Sure. Listen, I’ve already had the land surveyed on top of pulling the land documentation dating back to the original
settlement.” Elijah slid the copies he had made to both parties seated across from each other. He could feel the watching pack
members lean in as if doing so would allow them to read the documents.
A smile formed on Ralph’s lips as Edmund grimaced.
“See? It’s right here.” He pointed at the land map just in case his opponent had missed it.
“These aren’t right. I don’t care. You don’t need a fence anyway. Why put one up is the real question?”
“You’re only against this because you wander around my land to hunt or whatnot!” Ralph stood as he shouted, causing
Edmund to do the same. Elijah remained seated. He took note that the on-watching pack was divided between those who were
concerned and those eager for a brawl. All kept darting their eyes back to their alpha.
“Sit down,” Elijah spoke in a low but demanding voice. So far, no one had challenged him, but Elijah was ready at any
moment, knowing many of the pack still were wary of him.
The two men were smart enough to obey, unable to meet their alpha’s eye.
“This argument has multiple layers as to why it’s happening, but there’s only one thing that matters in the end. What I say.
Then, after that, this matter is dropped and won’t be brought up again, and there won’t be any fence-cutting or other shit-brain
ideas on either end to make this more difficult for the other. Because, honestly, I have much better things to do than settle a
backyard dispute.”
Elijah looked at them both until they nodded in understanding. Edmund looked as if he wanted to argue, but Elijah’s look
backed him down immediately.
“Now, like the paperwork shows and what you all know, Ralph’s fence is right on his property line. In no way does it
infringe on Edmund’s. If he wants a fence, he can put up a fence. No matter the reason. As for both of you, your kids will be
kids and date whoever they want. Chances are, the more it makes you both mad, the closer you may bring them, but that’s just
my two cents; that’s not law.”
The two shifters kept their eyes down on their paperwork while they were being lectured for the children they were acting
like.
Elijah stood slowly, waiting for the other two to rise. “Pack agreement.”
The older men pursed their lips in distaste as they begrudgingly agreed to their alpha’s terms and shook on them.
With that, Elijah dismissed the meeting and sent everyone on their way. He didn’t allow himself to linger and snuck out the
back. He wasn’t lying when he had said he had more important business to attend to, but he also didn’t want any of the pack
members to approach him with their own opinions on the matter or, even worse, small talk.
Elijah made his way through the building, where his office lay tucked away in the back. He liked it that way and had no
intention of moving himself to become easily accessible to the rest of the pack. Too many would use it to come to him
personally about their issues. That’s what the chain of command was for, and he intended to have it be of use.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Elijah announced as he opened the door to his office to the awaiting party.
 The five very-built and serious-looking men stood at attention upon their alpha’s entrance. A tall, younger-looking man
nodded with respect as Elijah took his seat. Once he did, the others followed suit, the tall one sitting directly across from
Elijah.
“Catch me up to speed, Isaac.”
The tall man nodded again somberly. “I’m afraid it’s not good news.”
“I didn’t expect it would be. What have you found out?”
Isaac, his beta, looked over the legal pad in front of him before answering. “Not much, unfortunately. I’ve had the enforcers
out scouting the perimeter and going even as far outside our territory as we are permitted, given what the other packs have
allowed. Still, nothing.”
Elijah’s patience was already thin from earlier, but now it was starting to show in his voice. It wasn’t Isaac’s fault … but
nothing? “How can that be?” he finally asked, trying to level his demeanor.
“Sir, I don’t know. These rogue attacks appear to be random and scattered. Our shifters are growing more nervous by the
day, and every time another one happens, they grow more wary. And …”
“And what?”
Isaac didn’t meet Elijah’s storming gray eyes as he obviously was trying to piece together the best way to say the next part.
“Some are doubting you.”
“Well, that’s nothing new,” Elijah huffed.
“I mean, more than before. Some are starting to create a false narrative and causing others to believe you lack control of the
pack and the situation.”
The alpha bristled but took a slow breath to calm the rising restlessness.
Instead of addressing Isaac, Elijah looked at his number one enforcer. “Jordan. Tell me what you and your team have been
doing and what you’ve seen since being tasked with running patrol regularly and looking into other packs.”
One of the figures emerged from the shadows of the dimly lit office. He was more scarred than the others and had an aged
wisdom in his eyes that came from past pain. This man was as neutral as they came. He was dedicated to his pack, and that was
the type of man Elijah wanted front and center.
“We haven’t smelled any evident scents. My men and I have kept things low-key when going to other territories. We are
trying to be vague in our questions to see if any other areas are experiencing the same sort of … mishap we are. We’re
discreetly checking to see if they have had any troubles, even on the smallest scales, from rogues or cast-outs from their packs.
Nothing solid as of now.”
Elijah rubbed his forehead. It was less than he had hoped.
“But you know these rogues, sir. They’re crafty and secretive. That’s what keeps them alive. I know we will get the person
behind these attacks, and they will pay.”
The promise was also a threat. Elijah appreciated the unnecessary added comfort Jordan had tried to express. This small
group alone was the only one that Elijah could connect with. His nature was intense and protective. That’s what enforcers lived
by in a pack, so it made it naturally easy for him to bond with them.
Being so, it also meant that only the people, including his beta, in this room truly knew how deeply their newly appointed
alpha’s loyalty ran. They saw what he was doing behind the scenes to ensure answers and safety.
“I know they will. I don’t doubt you or your men. But the pack needs answers, and I don’t want to give them any half-ass
truth they could see through. If we don’t find something, some may be brash enough to take the task themselves, and I will not
have that.”
“I agree,” Isaac said, re-entering the conversation.
Elijah tapped his fingers on his desk, deep in thought. No one moved in the room as they waited for their leader. Finally, he
let out a snort and folded his hands together. “Well, if there’s nothing left to report, Jordan, you and your men are excused.”
“Yes, sir. We will return to our duties and check-in in the morning.” With that, he led the rest of the enforcers from the
office, shutting the door behind them, leaving only the alpha and his beta.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Isaac.” Elijah sighed as he opened his desk and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two
tumblers from the bottom drawer.
Isaac scooted closer to grab the upcoming offered glass. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. But then again, rogues usually
don’t.”
Elijah took a sip. “It’s honestly pretty ballsy for a rogue to do this. Attacking other shifters? I highly doubt he’s working
alone.”
“You think a group of rogues found each other?”
“I think it’s possible,” Elijah mused as he swirled the remaining alcohol. “What’s worse than not having any tangible
information is the fact that this shit show started shortly after I became alpha. Doesn’t look great.”
Isaac sucked in air through his teeth in a sort of hiss. “No. No, it doesn’t.” He downed his glass.
Elijah ran a distracted hand through his short blonde tousled hair before pulling at his stubble subconsciously. “I can tell
that the pack is divided. I just don’t know how to mend it, especially in this turmoil we are in. It worries me that this could turn
into chaos if I don’t keep a firm grip. Even more so until we find the rogue and put an end to the fear. They have to know I can
protect them.” The last part of his speech came out in an irritated growl, more at himself than anything.
Silence hung in the air while Elijah tried to rein in his agitated wolf. He slammed back the rest of his drink to help take the
edge off.
“They know you’re a good alpha. There are just a few who have to think they’re better than the rest and test the authority as
if they have something to prove. No one has been suicidal enough to challenge you though, and that says something in itself.”
“Still.”
“I know. We have to find out where the attacks are coming from.”
“I think you and I are gonna have to go in. Maybe sit down with other alphas to see if any of us can form a pattern together
if it is happening to other packs also. And if not, why just ours?” Elijah stood and began pacing as his mind raced.
Isaac stood as well and headed to the door. “I think you may be right. We can formulate a plan in the morning and pitch it,
then let the enforcers know.”
Before Elijah could agree, his pants vibrated. Isaac’s rang as well.
They both stared at each other for a moment before hastily grabbing for their devices.
“Hello?”
“Sir? This is Marcus. I have Tommy calling Isaac now, so he will be up to speed. We have a situation. You’ll need to come
down to the coordinates I’m sending you ASAP. There’s another one, sir.” Static. “Another shifter attack.”
Elijah hung up. “Motherfucker.” His growl rumbled heavily as Isaac ended his call as well.
Snagging his coat off of the rack harshly, Elijah threw the door open. “We’ll ride together,” he told Isaac, who was on his
heels.
Elijah was tired of seeing dead bodies, especially his own pack members. This had to be taken care of and soon.
THREE
 KIERA

“I don’tKiera
know. It all seemed to have happened so fast.”
tried not to roll her eyes at the typical response. It was the one she received on the rare times she was lucky
enough to even get a witness. Now she had three, and all of them seemed to be at a loss for words.
“I heard a gasp. The most horrifying part was how it just sort of … cut off,” the young woman murmured. Her face was
pale, and her eyes were distant.
Kiera knew exactly what noise the runner had been referring to. She felt bad the fragile human had to hear it.
“Was there anything else, anything at all that stood out to you before it happened? Like, did you see somebody on your
run?”
Kiera turned to the older gentleman. “Did anything interrupt your book reading before you heard this woman’s scream?”
The old, slouched man shook his head. “No. I settled in and never looked up, not knowingly, anyway.”
“Same,” the blonde added. “If I passed anyone or saw anything, I couldn’t tell you. I was in the zone until ...” Her stare
became distant again.
Kiera should comfort the girl somehow. Any other person would. But it never came naturally for her. What should have
been a maternal instinct had been taken over by awkwardness and sarcasm. She stopped herself from making a comment and
just offered a sad nod. Safer not to say anything and make it worse.
“If you remember anything, please call the number on the card I’ve given you.” Kiera pointed to a burly man sporting a
thick mustache. “That man, Ron, he will take your statements, and then you’ll be free to go. Again, I’m sorry your evenings had
to conclude like this.”
The three witnesses nodded gravely, taking this as their cue to leave. Kiera watched them make their way to the flashing
lights before heading down to where the body had been found.
The body had been covered by the police and left for the local pack to claim. Only law enforcement dealt with shifters, but
it was on a hush-hush note. They didn’t really like having to share certain information, or any, with shifters … except for Ron.
“Well, they weren’t very helpful,” the gruff voice came behind her.
“Never are.” Kiera chuckled as she knelt beside the body.
Ron had always worked personally with Kiera. He was the only one she allowed herself to count on for accurate
information that sometimes helped with the inside track of finding her client’s wrongdoers. But lately, it had been all about
these rogue attacks.
Kiera pulled back the bloody sheet to look at the ripped-up body. “I can’t believe another attack already. It has to be a
shifter. A rogue. But what’s the goal? Why so vengeful?”
“I was hoping you’d know. That’s more your area anyway.” Ron looked back over his shoulder and then whispered to
Kiera. “And it doesn’t bode well for you.”
She pulled the cover back over the body. Sighing, she stood and dusted herself off. “I know. That’s one of my main
motivators here. That, and to stop this damn killing spree.” She looked around the area, trying to sniff out any specific scents
that stood out from the team and the deceased.
She caught a whiff of a strong lingering smell that went beyond the canvased area. Kiera dropped to the ground and took a
deep pull.
“I’m gonna let you do your thing. I’ve got stuff to pack up and reports to make.”
Kiera waved behind her as she continued to scan under the bushes. “Sounds good. Thanks, Ron.”
The ground was slightly damp but hidden by the thick greenery of the trails and forestry. It made it harder for her to catch a
specific scent as well, given that so many animals and humans seemed to pass through here.
“There has to be something left behind. One new thing to focus on, that’s all I need.” She kept her nose low and trained a
flashlight on the ground to catch any indentures in the ground.
Suddenly, an imprint caught her eye. Wolf tracks.
“Fuck, yes,” she murmured victoriously as she pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of it next to a dime. Depending on
the size of the foot, it could possibly help her eliminate certain shifters that she came into contact with. A large print meant a
large shifter, ergo, a large human.
Looking at it, it appeared rather average, but Kiera stayed optimistic because it was all she had.
The tracks led farther into the forest, away from roads and into the mountains. She followed them cautiously, making sure to
keep her ears open and nose focused.
Then, as suddenly as the tracks appeared, they were gone, only about a hundred yards or so from the first one. What was
interesting was that they had turned from the upcoming isolation of the wilderness and looked as if they were heading back
toward town. To mask their scent, sneaky fuckers, she mused.
Kiera sniffed. Nothing specific stood out. She sniffed the trail, thankful for the privacy of the dense trees. She knew how
strange her human form looked when using her senses without her wolf skin.
She had hoped a familiar scent would be noticeable. Maybe it would be the rogues. But there proved to be too many scents
that mingled together to be sure which one was the rogue.
Kiera tried to take a moment to clear her snout … nose … before trying again.
“Damn it!” she spat, still unable to distinguish any one scent that could be traced from the crime scene. This rogue was
covering his tracks well. It was pissing Kiera off.
That’s the problem with tracking one of your own. Then she thought about what Ron had said, and he was right. Soon,
everyone would start suspecting all rogues as if they weren’t already wary of them to begin with.
Kiera gave up her search for further evidence and headed back to the scene, triple-checking for any other clues.
This was the downside of choosing to be rogue. It usually didn’t matter if it was by choice, like herself, or from being
outcasted. All that mattered was that you were on your own and, therefore, suspect to all loyal packs when things became hairy.
I can’t think about this right now, she badgered herself. She needed to focus on finding the rogue and stopping these
attacks. Her ass didn’t matter. Not at this moment, anyway.
Kiera broke through the last of the thick bushes before arriving back at the scene. And froze in her tracks. An eerie feeling
pricked at her skin, causing her inner wolf’s hackles to stand at attention.
A part of her almost wanted to snarl, but she didn’t know what she would have been snarling about. She brushed it off as
paranoia. She just wasn’t sure what she was being paranoid about.
She shook off the feeling and continued toward the body.
“There has to be something …”
“Excuse me?”
Kiera yelped with a jump. “Holy shit!”
She turned, snarling at the person who had gotten the jump on her. It was uncommon, and now she was angrier.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people. I mean, what were …” Kiera choked on her words as her blue eyes locked on the steel
gray ones looking back at her.
The man was tall, strong, and had light hair that seemed to sharpen his image, making him slightly more intimidating. And
hot. So damn hot. But that wasn’t what had caused Kiera to go mute. The feeling from moments before was back and in full
force. This time, she knew exactly what was causing it … him.
The pull was immediate and strong. Kiera thought for a moment that she was drifting toward him. Clearing her head, she
realized she was still rooted in her spot, and her head was just spinning. Her body grew hot and cold all at once. A future
flashed through her mind quickly enough to see her and this man but no other details. Kiera’s gut clenched as she couldn’t deny
the sensations and bond from the approach of this man. This stranger was her fated mate.
Damn it all to hell, she cursed to herself. This was something she didn’t need. Or want. Not right now. The man stared at
her. She forced herself to shake off his daze. “Can I help you?” she barked, throwing a hand on her hip.
To her annoyance, the sex-god of a shifter smirked at her comment, making her even more attracted to him and angrier at
herself. She raised her brow, waiting impatiently.
“I’m … I’m sorry. I, what’s your name?”
“Kiera.”
“Kiera. I like that. I’m Elijah.” He took a step closer.
Kiera instinctively stepped back.
“Really. I just … You know what we are to each other, right? You felt that?” His smile never faltered, his confidence in
what was happening between them sickening.
Her lip curled in a snarl. “Yes,” she hissed.
“Why are you so upset about that? Don’t you know what it means?”
“Yes.”
He started to say something else, but Kiera cut him off. “Listen, I’m busy. I don’t know who you really are. I’m here to
figure out who is behind these rogue attacks. Unless you’re here to do the same, I really don’t have time to …”
“I am.”
 “You are what?”
“I’m here to go over this scene. This is my pack’s territory. My enforcers were the first ones on the scene.”
Kiera’s stomach flipped as she choked on her realization. “Your territory?”
His smile widened. “Yes.”
“Ugh. Of course, you’d be an alpha.”
He looked taken aback at that. Good.
“So, you’re here to help?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s focus on this.” Kiera wasn’t about to let some alpha distract her, mate or not. She valued her independence too
much to sacrifice it just for a so-called fated bond. “You missed all of the witnesses, by the way. But I can tell you what they
told me, which wasn’t much.”
She caught a glimpse of how seriously he was taking this matter as he looked over the body. She had to remind herself that
he was just another douche like so many other alphas. Or men in general. He stood, and she had to catch her breath from their
eyes locking. This bond may be harder to ignore than she had thought.
“I found tracks at this sight.”
“You’ve seen the others?”
“Oh yeah. There’s been quite a few around here, but some in other areas as well. I think those are to distract us from the
pattern the rogue is making.”
He gave her an amused look. “That’s your theory?”
“For your information, I’m good at my job.”
“Which is?”
“Private investigator.” She was growing sick of his little flirtatious efforts. Kiera pushed past him, heading toward the paw
print she’d discovered.
“I found this track. It goes into the trees.”
The man walked up, closer than he needed to be, and looked at the tracks in silence. Kiera was very aware of how close he
was. She felt the electricity vibrating between them and knew he felt the same thing. Especially based on the way that he kept
looking at her.
He stood back from the print, and their skin touched. They both sucked in a breath at the sudden wildfire that shot through
both of them, assuring them they were indeed mates.
“How are you ignoring this?” he asked, gesturing between the two of them and looking mildly amused.
Kiera couldn’t answer that because she wasn’t sure herself, but she was damn sure going to do her best to keep it up.
FOUR
 ELIJAH

T he new alpha had been struck by lightning. Well, at least, he assumed that the feeling of meeting his fated mate was akin
to such an elemental anomaly.
Kiera stood with her arms folded, an obvious gesture of defense, looking at him through the narrow slits of her eyes.
He could barely see the twinkle of her sapphire jewels, but they were still there. It was quite difficult to hide their radiance in
the same way that it was difficult to hide the attraction that flicked on in him like a lightbulb.
“What?”
He had lost himself, staring at her as she crouched to assess the paw prints that trailed out past the scene of the rogue
attack. His entire sense of self had been shaken when he’d come across her. Not to mention the fact that she was blindingly
gorgeous with hair the shade of cascading embers and long and lean calves that glided up to firm, thick thighs. He had seen his
fair share of capable, strong, wolf-shifter women in his life. Sure, they had all been alluring, one way or another.
But this was different. His very bones vibrated.
“I think we should talk about this,” Elijah said, rubbing at the stubble above his upper lip to conceal his grin. “This is
something that could really benefit us, the pack, everyone involved.”
Kiera scoffed at him, turning her attention back to the paw prints embodied in the soil.
“It looks like these lead out of the forest and into town. We should look there and canvas the area. Maybe someone saw
something …”
“Did you not hear me?”
Kiera snapped her head in his direction. His tone was not aggressive but rather jovial and in jest. The scowl she flashed at
him could have killed an entire horde of caribou.
“I’m focusing on the case in front of us. Believe it or not, I’m pretty good at this shit. Or are you not used to a woman
leading?”
There was a snarl in the last word. With that, she rose to her feet, following the series of paw prints in the opposite
direction.
She was prickly, to say the very least. Elijah found it to be rather amusing, but there was another part of him that was
confused. He could tell that she felt it also. There was a peculiar scent that wafted from her body when she stood close to him,
a kind of pheromone secretion that only a fated mate could detect. So, it felt strange to him that she was so very much inclined
to move away from him rather than toward him.
Nevertheless, Elijah was a persistent man.
He followed behind her, informing his enforcers that he would be back and for them to gather as much evidence as they
could for Kiera to examine. Her scent was potent in the air, like honeysuckle, and he pursued her through the charming bouquet
that danced in the frosty air.
She wasn’t too far ahead of him when he emerged from the forest area, having traveled down the road.
Elijah jogged up to her. “Can you hear me out for a second?”
“You’re still here?” she muttered. “I’m trying to focus.”
He hurried to stand beside her, pushing his hands into his pockets. Her aroma smothered him. He hadn’t ever picked up
anything quite so appealing.
“You’ve got your skills, and I’ve got mine,” he began, breath billowing into the cold. “I’m a newly appointed alpha, and
you have your keen investigative mind. And on top of all of that, there’s this connection.”
He knew she was desperately trying not to listen. His tone was playful, but he meant every word.
“Please,” she hissed. “I need quiet.”
The ground crunched under their feet in that odd limbo temperature that thrived between autumn and winter. Elijah left
Kiera to concentrate, as difficult as it was for him to not continue to hound her. Her derision was clear and concise, yet the
alpha was physically and cosmically unable to keep himself too far away.
They walked in silence with nothing but the grinding of their boots against the frozen ground between them. They followed
the desolate spaces of the forest back into town, only a few miles outside Northern Winds pack community grounds.
“They end here,” Kiera said abruptly.
She went to her knees just before a roadway began. Elijah stuck his hands in his pockets again, unsure what to do with the
restless feeling boiling inside. She then went onto all fours and brought her pointed nose to the dirt. It wasn’t an abnormal sight
in a wolf-shifter environment. But gazing down at Kiera in her sleek, taut black slacks and leather jacket made Elijah feel
salacious.
Thoughts ran wild through his mind. The majority of them settled on her satisfaction as he took in the slopes and ridges of
her body. It was vastly inappropriate, but Elijah could barely control it.
“What are you getting?” he asked, derailing his own thoughts.
She gazed up at him like his obscene considerations were as plain as day. She tried to give him the impression that he was
repellant to her, infinitely annoying, and intrusive. But her scent said otherwise.
“Nothing abnormal. What are you getting?”
Elijah widened his eyes and then brought a hand to his chest. He spoke with thick layers of sarcasm with an impish smile.
“Oh, you’re asking my opinion now? How thoughtful.”
Kiera’s eyes went wide, and she climbed back to her feet. She growled at him before making a snide remark.
“Hilarious. Really helpful.”
Elijah chuckled, and for the first time since they’d met, her eyes lingered on him. Briefly, her vexation left her face. He felt
something there, some kind of wound, something raw and recent.
It wasn’t about him.
Kiera then raised her brows and pursed her lips, breaking the brief moment of peace between them.
“Well? What do you have?”
Elijah’s eyes darted down to the last set of paw prints, then cocked a brow, meeting her glare brazenly. For a flicker of a
moment, Kiera appeared flustered. He liked it.
“I’m getting a scent, but it’s not my pack. It’s not something I recognize.”
She balled her fists together, then looked out toward the horizon and into town.
He wanted to tell her there was something he was picking up, and it was her, her enchanting musk floating like a fog over
everything else within close proximity. But he felt like he had toyed with her enough for one day. As much as he wanted to, the
alpha managed to resist.
Kiera spoke into the air, away from him. “I’m going to talk to the shifters in town. See if they saw anything.”
“There’s a bar called Howl Shack. Usually, a lot of the townsfolk gather there,” Elijah said.
“Then I will go there first.”
“I will accompany you.”
“I don’t need that,” she snarked. “I’m the private investigator, remember?”
“Look, these are my people, Kiera,” he said, standing in front of her before she was able to take a step. “Who do you think
they are more likely to listen to? A stranger or their alpha?”
She blinked rapidly, those dagger eyes cold and icy as ever. But Elijah stood his ground.
“Fine. But please, don’t talk about anything else. Let me do my work.”
“Deal.”
They strolled into town, which was starting to bustle as the storefronts opened their doors to the lunch crowd. It was a cozy
time of year that Northerners were used to, taking advantage of hot drinks and wearing warm coats. Nearly all of the store
owners were part of the Northern Winds pack, so when they wandered through, Elijah stood out, their king coming for a visit.
They smiled and waved, as did the new alpha. He maintained his friendliness but felt the need to keep everyone at arm’s
length. He thought that was the way to gain respect.
“It’s over here,” Elijah said, motioning toward the vintage, saloon-style pub.
Kiera pushed through the batwing doors, which were more for nostalgia than practicality. Another door preceding it was
sealed shut and hid the patrons from the growing cold. When they went inside, a flurry of laughter, loud voices, clinking
glasses, and country music greeted their ears.
It was just past noon, but it wasn’t uncommon for the Howl Shack to be packed from open to close. It wasn’t just a place
where shifters came to drink. It served delicious meals as well and acted as a hub of discussion more times than not. Elijah
himself had spent many nights chattering about pack politics and taking a stab at flirting with the local tail.
As a leader, it was different now. He had to be mature and behave better than any of the men he had once socialized with.
And even more so, since his fated mate was watching his every move.
Even if she couldn’t admit it yet.
“Spread out,” she said curtly. “We’ll talk after.”
She weaved through the crowd, starting on one side of the bar while Elijah went to the other. He spoke to as many people
as he could, including the barkeep, about any weird occurrences the night before.
 Very few had anything of relevance to say. Most of them were fixated on him being the new alpha and the fact that he had
come into the establishment with an attractive woman. He blew them off politely, as much as he could, before feeling a hard tap
on his shoulder.
When he spun around, he was delighted to see Kiera and her bright eyes. A few strands of her hair had escaped her
ponytail, hanging over her stare. He stifled the urge to push them behind her ear.
“I got something. I don’t know what it is,” she said, her tone clipped.
She turned without waiting for a response, and Elijah quickly followed. She led him into the back room, then into one of the
restrooms. She strode through the male-designated door without a sliver of hesitation.
“What am I looking at here?”
They stood before the mirror, reflecting inconsistently lit bulbs like an ancient vanity table. Kiera elbowed him and pointed
to the ceiling.
“Up there. Look.”
At first, the alpha couldn’t believe she had touched him, but the elation of that quickly faded as he read what was carved
into the ceiling. His blood ran cold.
It read, in capitalized, raggedy writing: THE NORTHERN WINDS WILL BE ANNIHILATED. JOIN THE CAUSE OR FIND
ONLY DEATH.
A solemn silence fell between them as they soaked in the meaning of the words, as well as the effort it took to write
something so spiteful and horrifying in the bathroom of the community’s most beloved watering hole. Elijah’s mind spun.
“Who would do that?” Kiera asked.
He shook his head, his eyes running over the deeply carved words obsessively. “I have no idea.”
“We’re going to find out,” Kiera grunted, then slipped out of the bathroom. She had just agreed to help him with the fewest
words she could say. He was satisfied with that, at least for the moment.
FIVE
 KIERA

T o say that Kiera was frazzled was an understatement.

After agreeing to help Elijah investigate the rogue attacks and then the subsequent threat against his pack they found
carved onto the bathroom ceiling, she jetted out of his presence as fast as she knew how.
As she drove, Kiera could feel the battle going on between what her body knew and her brain refused to accept. She had
been out of a pack mentality for so long that her response to it felt like trauma. She had worked hard to fight those protective
urges, even sufficing to bury them deep inside her private investigative work.
She would never admit to anyone that it was all a part of the plan. Hiding was far easier than dealing with the monsters that
lurked in the shadowy hallways of her mind.
Well, there was one person she felt she could admit nearly anything to, and that was the person she drove to immediately
after leaving Elijah and the Northern Winds Pack.
Since she was ten years old, Kiera had known Nora. The woman was ten years her senior and acted as a perfect fusion of a
mother figure and a loving, blunt friend. It was her compassion and candid nature that drew a young, disturbed Kiera.
There was nothing flowery about how Nora worded things, but there was still care instilled in the words. Kiera preferred
it that way. There wasn’t any space left in her life for ornate euphemisms. She’d had enough of that as a child.
The air was crisp and frigid by the time Kiera got to Nora’s place, which wasn’t far from her office. She had texted her
beforehand, though she knew Nora was the type who always welcomed her. It was like visiting home, a place Kiera had never
found.
“Darling,” Nora said, standing at the doorway as Kiera climbed out of the car. “God, I have missed you.”
Nora had long and impossibly shiny black hair. She managed to keep it straight at all times, leaving it to hang around her
chest like an attractive witch. Her eyes were a soft hazel that brightened with her smile, which she was giving twofold to Kiera
as they embraced.
“I’m sorry it’s so late,” Kiera muttered into her friend’s shoulder. “I knew I wouldn’t sleep. I’ve got to talk to you about
something. Are the kids asleep? Where’s Chris?”
Nora waved her off, distorting her naturally pretty face.
“Don’t worry about them. I’m here for you. Come inside, sweetheart.”
Kiera did as Nora asked and made herself at home in the living room. The house was the definition of middle class, large
enough for little pups to roam around but not dramatically sterile the way many alpha’s homes were. There was warmth, a
hominess that Kiera liked, though she rarely allowed herself to completely settle into it. That word felt thorny when it rose in
her throat, even still.
Nora had met her fated mate, Chris, when Kiera was fifteen. Kiera was pretty sure he did engineer work for their pack, but
if she was being frank with herself, that detail had evaporated from her mind.
“What’s going on, honey?”
Nora came back into the living room, the fire in the hearth crackling gently, with two steaming cups of tea. The citrus scent
of lemongrass mingled with chamomile. It brought back memories of her youth with brute force.
“How are the kids doing? What are they? Six, eight years old now?”
Nora wore a baggy dress shirt that hung to her knees like a dress and was walking barefoot around the homestead. She held
the tea in her hands as she tucked her feet beneath her on the couch next to Kiera, frowning with a bemused smile.
“That’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?” Nora said, biting her lip. “We can talk about the kids after. I can tell
something is on your mind, babe. Drink up.”
Kiera did as she was asked. It was rare because any form of speech that even slightly resembled an order usually felt like a
lash against her flesh. But not with Nora. Nora knew her inside and out.
Well, as much as she was willing to expose, anyway.
The tea was fragrant and comforting. She swallowed down the faint lemon flavor, then averted her gaze to the roaring fire.
She watched the flames sway as she spoke.
 “I had a case today near Northern Winds. A rogue attack was called in. It all seemed like the usual shit until I met the new
alpha.”
Nora did not waver. The steam floated up from her mug and curled up along her severe jawline.
“And?” Nora asked.
“I felt something, Nora. Something new. I think I … I felt the bond.”
Nora wasn’t the bubbly type, and neither was Kiera. But a part of her expected her friend and mother figure to leap up onto
the couch and begin a happy dance. Instead, though, Nora grinned sneakily.
“What?”
“Is that a bad thing?” Nora whispered, still smiling. “The fact that you rushed over here tells me that you aren’t fond of this
development.”
Kiera sighed, then took another large gulp of her tea. Nora sat still and listened. It was another one of her many benevolent
qualities.
“He’s an alpha, Nora. If I accept my bond with him and we mate, that means I would have to be the Alpha Mate. And help
lead the whole fucking pack.”
“I’m aware of the details that concern a wolf pack, honey. What I want to know is why this bothers you so much.”
Nora had a counselor’s energy to her with the edge of a private trainer. She wanted Kiera to announce what the two of them
already knew to be true. That her past was coming back to haunt her and that confronting it was the only way forward.
And that truth pissed her off.
“You know why,” Kiera said, placing the mug on the side table and letting her face fall into her hands. “I don’t want to lead
anyone. I want to be on my own, where no one else is concerned. Ever.”
Kiera felt Nora change positions on the couch, placing a hand on her lower back. It was a tender gesture that she rarely, if
ever, allowed anyone to initiate. She’d had her fair share of one-night stands when a good fuck released excess energy that
made her feel like she was going to burst out of her skin. But it was pragmatic, like letting the air out of a balloon before it
popped.
Nora’s voice was husky and serene when she spoke.
“How long did you really think this lone wolf thing was going to go on? Did you think you were not ever going to find this?
To finally meet your match in someone who was designed in the stars just for you?”
Kiera shook her head, pressing her fingers lightly into her eye sockets.
“I don’t want this, Nora. You know I don’t. He could just leave. Why wouldn’t he?”
Nora did not let the quiet hang. She grabbed Kiera by the wrists and pulled her in her direction so that their eyes were at
the same level.
“Kiera, your father was an asshole. You know that as much as I do. I don’t know if your parents were fated mates or not,
but either way, we know that he wasn’t a good man. And your mother was heartbroken. You know this already.”
Memories flooded the space inside Kiera’s mind reserved for housing for the most terrifying moments of her life. She
thought she had buried them, suffocated them with her stubbornness, but really, they had just been locked away.
“I know,” she said, teary-eyed. “I do know. But that doesn’t mean I can be a leader. I’m not made for it.”
Nora grinned again, and it lit up her face. “That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard this entire week. And I have two
children.”
She brought Kiera’s hands down to her lap and caressed them softly. Kiera was thankful for the pleasing sensation.
“You weren’t going to be able to run away from all this forever, Kiera. You are too strong, too smart, too gorgeous. You
have to trust that the universe is working in your favor. There’s a reason you are made to connect with this alpha. It means
being vulnerable. I know that isn’t your specialty.”
Kiera shook her head, trying to blink away the tears to prevent them from streaming down her cheeks.
“It really isn’t,” she said with a laugh.
“I know it’s not easy to open up. And I know you have been through a lot. But this is exciting to me, Kiera. You deserve
someone who will treat you like a damn queen. You never know, right?”
Kiera wasn’t completely convinced, but the natural pull she felt toward Elijah and the trust she had in Nora was enough to
make her want to try. It scared her, though, more than she was willing to admit.
“What’s this handsome lad’s name?” Nora said, brushing Kiera’s stray hair out of her face.
“Elijah,” she said, gazing back into the fire.
“Ooh, he sounds sexy,” Nora purred.
Kiera laughed a good, nourishing belly laugh. The subject changed quickly to the case she had been working on and then to
how Nora and Chris were coping with raising shifters. But Elijah was always there in the back of her mind, poking and
prodding her to open her heart.
It was nearly midnight when Kiera left, apologizing for the late hour.
“Never apologize. I always want to hear from you, darling. Come over anytime you want, okay?”
 Kiera knew she meant every word. She promised that she would visit more often and even babysit the kids when she and
Chris needed a break.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” Nora said with a wink.
They embraced at the door for a long time. Kiera felt the urge to hold on longer, to take in the perfume of her welcoming
spirit, to remember the good times that came after the bad when she was just a kid herself. Nora must have sensed it because
she kissed Kiera on the cheek and murmured into her ear.
“I believe in you. And I believe in the universe. Try to trust it, and only good will come.”
Kiera went to her car, her thoughts far quieter than they were on the drive over. She drove off, initially aiming for home,
then took a detour into the woods near the local school grounds. She shifted into her wolf form and ran, howled, mourning with
her song, along with her body that held too much awfulness to contain.
She ran until her paws were numb, then finally called it quits. She went back home and sank into a hot bath. The run had
helped tire her out, but Elijah remained. She couldn’t hold it off anymore. She wanted him with every bone in her body.
She fell into a restless slumber that night, trying desperately to forget all about him … but failing horrendously.
SIX
 ELIJAH

E lijah returned from Howl Shack that night, stirred in bed, and decided to sit out on his porch instead. It was cold, but he
didn’t mind it. It kept his mind sharp.
The lake, aptly named Howl Lake, was bathed in moonlight, its glittering essence at the core of every pack decision
made. The battle for the alpha role had taken place just outside the waters on the night of the full moon. It was his place of
history, where an entirely new path had been carved for him.
They were his people, and in a way, they had always been his people. But it was different after the fight for the alpha
position. Everyone looked to him, not only for advice but for answers. He was like a king, and everything would go the way he
said it would. That was unless someone challenged him for the title.
The challenge he had taken on hadn’t been too difficult. He faced an aging alpha who wasn’t a fan of progress. It was
simple enough to defeat him.
There wasn’t anyone in the foreseeable future that Elijah could see having the balls to do such a thing. So then, it was just
him, and he wasn’t exactly a reluctant leader. But he was a king who went back and forth on ruling, unsure where to place the
people he had known for a lifetime on the hierarchy of importance.
Of course, then there came Kiera, thrown into the mess to make it even more complicated. He mused on it with two fingers
of whiskey, an assured sleeping aid for the rare nights when insomnia crept in.
“Having a nightcap?”
Elijah, lost in a trance, hadn’t noticed his beta, Isaac, come up behind him.
He was far more the carefree type than Elijah could ever be. His wavy, sandy blonde hair and devil-may-care expression
were all anyone needed to decipher the difference between the men who had known each other since they were pups.
“Shit,” Elijah said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“That’s okay. It makes me feel stealthy,” Isaac responded with a smirk.
“Care for any?” Elijah raised his glass.
Isaac placed a foot on one of the steps and then peered over to the lake. It was eerily silent, a chilly fog floating over the
water.
“I may, but I wanted to talk to you about something first. The guys at Howl Shack told me you met someone today. A
woman.”
Elijah swirled his glass, the amber liquid glowing in the dim. The only light was that of the moon, along with a tiny lantern
that sat next to him.
“Are you telling me that I’ve been alpha for all of five minutes, and you three bastards are already talking shit about me?”
Elijah barked at his beta.
Isaac shook his head slowly.
“That isn’t what happened at all. Hear me out. They know she’s your mate. I know she is. You know how shifters are.”
Isaac was Elijah’s beta for a reason. Alphas were known as hot-headed, often beastly creatures who were quick to
violence. Though Elijah resented that, it was partly true. Which was why betas were assigned to balance out the decision-
making process. Their cooler heads normally prevailed.
So the alpha did his best to level out his moody response, shooting back the rest of the whiskey and getting to his feet, but
not without a snarky remark.
“I do know how they are. They like to think they know everything.”
He went inside but didn’t hold the screen door for Isaac. It was growing colder as the black of night grew deeper, so he let
his beta inside, albeit reluctantly.
“I want to tell you that she is bad news, Elijah. Kiera. She is one of those lone wolf types.”
Elijah was already intertwined with Kiera, so any negative judgments on her character were likely to get him fuming. He
managed to keep it together, though, flicking on the kitchen light and grabbing the whiskey bottle by the throat.
“Lone wolf types?”
 Isaac came into the kitchen and leaned against the marble countertop. He stared directly at his friend, his Alpha. He did not
flinch when he spoke, which made Elijah respect him even more profoundly.
“Yeah. She hasn’t seen a community in years, apparently. Since she was a kid. That doesn’t bode well for us.”
“In what way?”
Elijah had poured himself another glass, then offered an empty one to his beta. Isaac eyed it, then shook his head. It was
probably a good decision while the conversation was heating.
“Lone wolves are stubborn,” Isaac began. “They don’t like being told what to do because they weren’t raised with the
hierarchy in mind. When we move, we move together as one. A lone wolf only knows how to move as a singular.”
The alpha sipped at his drink. He agreed with some of what Isaac was saying but really didn’t want to be the one to admit
it.
“What makes you think she can’t change?” Elijah asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Who do we think we are as a community if
we can’t take in a lost soul? Is that really what we are about, rejecting the outcasts?”
Isaac sighed, and then that grin returned. It irked the alpha that time.
“What is that smug look?” he snapped.
“It’s not smug, Elijah. It’s a realization. Of course, you can’t hear what I’m saying. She’s your mate.”
Stillness stretched between them like the tranquil waters of Howl Lake, except there was nothing tranquil about how Elijah
felt.
He reminded himself that Isaac was his friend, his beta who knew him to the very depths of his soul. He brought a hand
behind him to the marble countertop, ready to snap it in half as if it were a twig.
“You have felt the bond, haven’t you?” Elijah said, his voice trembling slightly. “With Madison. You know how it feels. It
is exactly like gravity, except we know even less about it.”
The smirk disappeared off Isaac’s face like it had been slapped off. He was thinking about the woman he had met years
before, a sweet, loquacious girl he had swept off her feet. There was no way that either of them could have ever denied the
feelings that took them away from the very idea of logic.
“Elijah, I’m sorry I said that.” Isaac swallowed. “But I don’t mean it like that. I know she is your mate, but there’s more to
the story.”
“I’m waiting.”
Isaac slid his jaw back and forth, then went for the bottle of whiskey Elijah had placed on the island between them. He
poured out a waterfall of golden delight, then shot it back. He cringed briefly, refilled the glass, and then settled back into his
spot opposite the alpha.
“Madison wasn’t a lone wolf. Kiera is. It’s that kind of attitude that I think could get our pack into trouble. It’ll change the
dynamics.”
“Why are you questioning me like this, Isaac? The last time I checked, you weren’t the alpha, right?” Elijah waited for him
to back down. He knew when to blow the whistle on any and every disagreement that could likely turn volatile.
But he didn’t back down. A part of Elijah was impressed.
“No, I’m not,” he said, taking another step forward to pour another drink. “My job is that of your helper. The one that hears
the whispers and stories and makes his recommendations, right?”
Isaac didn’t raise his voice but was firm. He really didn’t want to have the conversation anymore.
“I am hearing your recommendations, and I am rejecting them. I am sensing Kiera’s potential as not only my mate but as a
vital member of this community. She was working to resolve the rogue attacks when I met her. You are going to have to trust me
on this.”
Isaac sipped at his drink, eyes wavering away from his alpha.
“What was she doing at the scene?”
“She’s a private investigator,” Elijah said calmly. “I’m surprised the guys didn’t update you.”
Isaac smiled. It was a genuine, happy-go-lucky one. But Elijah could taste something sour in his mouth.
“They have never been great on details,” Isaac said, drinking the rest of his booze and placing it on the counter behind him.
“I am glad we had this talk, Elijah. I really am.”
That awkward quiet morphed between them again, leaving the alpha with a bitter feeling. He had argued with his beta many
times before, but they were usually able to patch up sufficiently. Though Isaac seemed to be waving the white flag, Elijah knew
him better than that. It was a ploy to keep him from blowing up.
“Good. Let’s get to sleep then. We will need our rest to patrol the community tomorrow.”
Isaac nodded politely, then shuffled back onto the porch. The night air was frigid, autumn having been swallowed whole by
a grim winter.
“I really meant what I said, you know?” Isaac said, standing at the foot of the porch. “I trust you, and I know you trust me,
but I don’t trust a lone wolf. I hope you will consider my words and know that I have your best interest at heart.”
Elijah knew that was true. But he didn’t want to get into it again, out in the harsh, cold black. So he nodded and stuck his
hand out to shake.
They clapped their hands together, and the alpha tried to force his own smile.
“All is heard, Isaac. You can meet her soon, and you will see what I mean. I promise.”
“Yes, sir.”
Isaac continued the path to his home, where Madison was likely waiting for him. His beta had something he didn’t realize
he had been craving. It wasn’t just companionship. It was a pure union, a blending of selves. He felt a desire for Kiera unlike
any he had ever experienced.
Elijah finally called it a night and returned inside. He had one more drink to wash away the poison of the disagreement,
showered to get warm, and climbed into bed.
It was one of the first times that he had felt lonely. Not since he had been an only child had the feeling rushed over him like
a tidal wave. The space next to him felt empty, even though Kiera had yet to join him in it. He tried to ignore the feeling and
instead thought about what had to be done next, struggling to get into a deep slumber.
When he did, though, he dreamed of Kiera. She was waiting for him at the other side of Howl Lake, waving her arms in the
air. He went to her in the dream in wolf form, somehow galloping over the water like it was made of ice. When he got to her,
she was even farther away. This continued until the morning sun rose, peeking through the curtains.
He was groggy when he finally got up but told himself that he was ready for a new day. Kiera had never left him, not even
in the landscape of his dreams.
SEVEN
 KIERA

S he rubbed at her forehead, feeling a headache forming. She’d been staring at the pictures for a good two hours, not seeing
anything new, and it was pissing her off.
She sighed, lifting her coffee and taking a deep sip. Just as she did, the hair on her neck rose, and her eyes snapped up
to the glass wall that led out into the open space. Her office was private, but she had all her curtains up to allow sunlight in,
mostly because she liked to know who was in the office if she had any questions to ask.
Her eyes found him right away as he stood across the building, just entering. He had a smile on his face, and his shoulders
were back. He looked proud and a little cocky. She rolled her eyes, wondering why he had to be here.
One of the girls working in the main area pointed at her office, and his eyes found hers. She ground her teeth together. She
really didn’t have time to waste.
He strode across the space, and she was half tempted to get up and lock her door. She was even more tempted to shut her
curtains. That would be a clear sign she didn’t want to talk, right?
But she didn’t, and before she knew it, he was knocking on her door. Elijah opened the door, not waiting for her to let him
enter, giving her an even bigger grin than before. “Hello. Lovely morning outside.”
She rolled her eyes, flipping another page over. “Get out.”
“Oh, come on, I hardly said anything.”
“Your voice is a buzzing in my ear that I don’t have time for.”
He swung into a chair across from her desk, and she narrowed her eyes on him, disliking how he made himself comfortable
so quickly in her space.
“I understand you are a very busy person, and I respect that. I’m very busy myself, but from the look on your face, you could
use a break.”
She tilted her head down, allowing her eyes to scan the papers once more. “Is that your way of saying I look tired? You
really know how to compliment a woman.”
“I was simply saying you look like you could use a break. There was no insult in it.”
She groaned, pulling her eyes back up to him. “Elijah, I’m very busy, and I don’t have time to boost your ego. Which, by the
way, seems to already be plenty large enough as you welcomed yourself not only into my work but my office without so much
as a warning.”
He smiled, still proud of himself. “I came here to ask you to lunch, which it seems you could use right about now. You look
like you need it.”
“No,” she said. “Now, please leave.”
He crossed his arms. “What time did you even get here?”
“It’s none of your business what time I got here.”
“I’ll say five because you wanted to be first, and you had a cup of coffee, which from here I see no steam, so it’s cold. You
likely didn’t eat, as you possibly didn’t even think about it and …” He looked down at his watch. “It’s a little past one, so you
are probably hungry but too focused on the paper in front of you to even notice.”
She sighed heavily and shut the file, looking at him. “Look at you playing detective. What would you like as a prize for
being so smart?” she asked sarcastically.
He smiled smugly. “I’m just saying you could use a break. Come join me for lunch.”
She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “Just because you’re a bossy alpha doesn’t mean I have to listen to you.
You aren’t my leader.”
“No, but I am your mate,” he stated matter of factly. She hated how the word alone stirred her wolf. “And I feel we owe it
to each other to at least try to get to know the other. So, why not be civil?”
She didn’t answer, and Elijah leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees. “Please. It’s just lunch. I’m not asking you to
strip down and dance for me.”
She sighed, seeing no need to argue with him. She was hungry, and she needed a break from her office. And why not make
him give her a free meal? What was the harm?
She pulled herself up from her desk and grabbed her purse. “Fine, but you’re paying, and I get dessert.”
Elijah broke out in a smile, swinging from his chair and following her out. She held the door and glared at him. “And if you
ever walk into my office without me saying come in, I’ll break your nose.” It was a warning, and she fully planned to do it next
time.
They went to a small cafe down the street. It was busy, but they managed to find a booth in the back corner. Elijah ordered
them water while they got comfortable.
“So, how long have you been an investigator?” he asked as he looked through the menu.
She tilted her head, thinking, then smirked, leaving the question unanswered. She didn’t see a need for them to get to know
each other. After this investigation was closed, they didn’t need to see each other.
“It’s just a simple question,” he stated as he gave her a look.
“But it’s a personal simple question that’s going to lead to even more personal questions such as what are your parents like
and what are your hobbies?”
He leaned onto the table. “Would that be so bad for me to ask what your hobbies are?”
Then she leaned onto the table, her face close to his, and she could smell his toothpaste and aftershave. She had to admit it
was a little intoxicating.
“You want to know what my hobbies are?” she asked, a small smirk pulling at her lips.
He nodded.
She chuckled and decided she might as well entertain him. “I love sex. I love going to bars and picking up different men
and taking them back to my place. And then when I’m tired of them, I throw them into the street buck-ass naked and have them
dance for me.”
He frowned.
“And I love when cocky men enter into my life demanding to know about me.”
He leaned back. “Fine, too personal? How about something simple? What kind of coffee do you drink?”
“How about I ask the questions? Do you know anything new about the investigation you’d like to share with me?”
He sat quietly for a moment before he shook his head. “Same as what you know. Haven’t heard anything new. We didn’t
find out anything about the tracks.”
She frowned, wishing he had. Because she had nothing. They were at a standstill, and she hated it.
He leaned forward again, dropping his voice into a whisper. “So, what bar are you hitting up? I should probably check
them out. Maybe that’s how I’ll catch your attention.”
She snorted, leaning back. “You never give up, do you?”
“People find it charming,” he said.
“Or annoying,” she countered as the waiter came over to take their order.
The banter continued, and she tried hard to give him as little as she could, but Elijah seemed interested in knowing about
her, so she gave him little things. She told him her favorite flower was a daisy, and she had a heater in her office because she
often got cold.
Elijah told her about himself. He stated he loved his position but wanted people to follow his rules. The more he talked, the
more she remembered how much she didn’t want to live that life.
She took a fry, popping it into her mouth. Elijah tilted his head, watching her. “Now that I shared, how about you?”
“I did share,” she stated, crossing her arms.
“You gave me a heater and a daisy. I gave you my life story.”
“That was your decision,” she said, shrugging.
He was about to say something when his phone rang, and he glanced down at it. He pulled it up, scowling as he answered.
“You have shit for timing, Isaac.”
She grabbed another fry, stuffing it into her mouth. She scanned the cafe, a habit she had since getting her job. After taking
the space in, she looked back at Elijah, noting his face had fallen.
She frowned, knowing right away something was wrong. “What’s up?”
His jaw clenched, and he nodded. “I’m on my way,” he said before he ended the call.
“What happened?” she asked as he pulled out his wallet, throwing money down.
“There was another accident,” he said.
They both headed for the door. She didn’t even care that Elijah grabbed her arm, steering her toward his car. They got in,
and he drove, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. She frowned, realizing that while Elijah was new to his role, he
was still hurt about what happened. He clearly cared about the people he led, and she wanted to help.
They arrived at the scene, which was just outside the pack house. Just beyond the door, several people stood around. She
entered the scene first as Elijah parked his car. A woman turned to her and yelled. “It was you!”
Her eyes widened, and she stopped moving, unsure what to say.
 “What’s going on?” she asked.
Some of the pack members moved to the side, allowing her to see the scene. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight. Her
scent filled the air, and next to her body was one of her monogrammed bracelets. It wasn’t anything special, but she knew her
items, and that was hers.
Isaac crossed his arms. “It looks like you have some explaining to do.”
She didn’t know what to say. But she could hear Elijah’s footsteps behind her as he came up the steps and entered. He
instantly froze, seeing the body and then looking at everyone.
“Are the police on the way?” Elijah asked, shaking his head.
Isaac nodded. “Yeah, and you should really step away from her.”
She swallowed. She hadn’t done this, but it was evident why they thought she had. The scent, plus her bracelet, was pretty
damning proof. She suddenly wondered if someone had broken into her place. It was the only explanation she could think of.
“You can’t be serious,” Elijah said. “She’s an investigator.”
“Yeah, more reason that she could get away with murder.”
She scowled, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut. “I didn’t murder anyone.”
“You expect us to just believe you,” a woman said, growling at her. “You aren’t one of us, and we don’t believe you.”
She frowned, knowing they had no reason to believe her. If she wasn’t with Elijah, none of them would believe her.
She looked at Elijah, who frowned at all of them. “She was with me. We were just out eating lunch, so she couldn’t have
done it.”
“Don’t lie for her,” Isaac growled. “I understand she is important to you, but don’t go down with her, man.”
Elijah growled at Isaac, pissed. “I wouldn’t lie! And it’s insulting that you would think so.”
The room fell quiet for a moment before she waved her hands. “Okay, please. We need to focus here. We need to block off
the space and start collecting evidence.”
“You aren’t collecting shit,” another woman growled. “You aren’t touching anything. We don’t need you to clean up the
evidence to ensure you aren’t caught.”
“I’m not the murderer,” she snapped, starting to get pissed. “And I won’t touch anything. Just call someone to collect it.”
“Why, so one of your friends can hide it?”
“Enough!” Elijah yelled. Everyone stiffened up for a moment. “It wasn’t her.”
While no one spoke, it was clear none of them believed him.
EIGHT
 ELIJAH

E lijah’s wolf raged within him for release. That someone dared attack one of his own this close to their territory had the
beast on edge. Seeing the results and smelling the blood stretched his control near the breaking point, but that wasn’t
what had his inner wolf ready to strike.
Isaac, the pack beta, glared at Kiera with teeth bared. The pack enforcers towering behind Elijah’s second-in-command
followed Isaac’s lead. They stood ready in oversized sweats to shift at a moment’s notice.
It didn’t take someone with Kiera’s investigative skills to see the evidence pointed toward her. Everyone saw it, and
everyone but Elijah wanted to act on it.
Kiera matched Isaac’s challenge, meeting his eyes with lips pressed closed. Defiant but unwilling to make the first move to
violence. Elijah expected as much from the little time he’d spent with his mate. She’d take on the whole world if it stood
against her, whatever the odds.
“She had nothing to do with this, Isaac.” Elijah stepped in front of Kiera, meeting his beta’s eyes. “She was with me when I
got the call. You can smell how fresh this blood is. It couldn’t have been her.”
The moment Elijah stood in front of her, Kiera moved to the side. Her eyes bored into Isaac’s until Elijah focused his
attention on her, earning a dose of that defiance himself. It oddly settled his wolf. The beast demanded obedience, even from its
mate, but as in any hunt, the victory tasted sweetest against the strongest prey.
That brief glance had Elijah’s men even more on edge. The pack’s beta and enforcers almost demanded more deference for
their newly risen alpha than he did himself. That went double with a lone wolf like her and multiplied again, given their mate
bond.
“With all due respect, the evidence is clear, sir,” Isaac said, then lowered his eyes. “Could you be mistaken?”
“Could you be a bigger fool?” Kiera sneered at Isaac, finally baring her teeth.
“Quiet!” Elijah snapped.
Kiera’s eyes widened, almost bulging. Her arm slipped behind her back. He wondered if she was armed, not that she
needed a weapon to be deadly. Thankfully, she controlled her inner wolf enough, though the challenge remained.
“Whoever did this wanted it to look like I was responsible,” she said, switching her attention back to the scene of the
attack. “I was investigating the last rogue attack. Maybe this one is connected to it, and whoever’s behind them wants to get me
off their trail. Your men wouldn’t have a chance at finding the perpetrator without me.”
“Not helping,” Elijah growled. “And you’re leaving out another obvious motive. The mate bond. Someone wants to not
only divide my pack but to divide us. Turning a pack alpha against his alpha mate can doom a pack.”
Isaac nodded at that. The pack enforcers behind him relaxed but stayed at the ready. They might have realized Kiera wasn’t
a threat, but whoever or whatever attacked a pack member on their territory might still be nearby.
The standoff between Kiera and his men had distracted Elijah. His eyes swept the trees around them. Fresh blood covered
the scents of nature around them, but even without shifting, his nose pierced that metallic tang but found nothing out of place.
“It’s too quiet,” Kiera said as her hand slid behind her back again.
“Most prey flee from the scent of blood.” Isaac dismissed her concern, but his eyes darted around. Then he looked to the
sky through the treetops and frowned. “Scavengers, though, flock to the scent. There should be a few ravens waiting for their
chance at a free meal.”
Elijah sniffed deeply, beyond the tang of fresh blood, beyond his anxious but ready men to Kiera’s scent, his mate’s scent.
His inner wolf howled as it refused to leave his nose.
The underbrush behind Kiera rustled. Elijah reached to pull her behind him. His hand found only air. She twisted and
dropped to the ground.
A wolf burst into the yard. Had Kiera not moved, it would have slammed right into her back. Elijah jerked his arm away
before the wolf’s jaw slammed shut. It reared a paw, ready to strike Isaac.
The wolf yelped. It swatted back, spinning in the air. It bowled Isaac over, then rolled to face Kiera. Blood pulsed from its
hind leg. The tang sizzled in Elijah’s nose. He jumped in front of his prone mate to protect her for whatever good that did.
 Kiera rolled to her feet and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Elijah. Try as she had to deny their bond, when the battle
came, she would stand beside her mate ready to meet the enemy together. She’d drawn blood. It speckled her face in crimson
drops and matted her shirt.
With its injured hind leg tucked close, the wolf readied to pounce. It shirked back when Kiera lifted her hand. She held a
short knife. A silver filigree glittered along the blood-spattered matte-gray blade.
Elijah would have hesitated in the rogue’s position. Any shifter with an iota of control of their inner animal would. He’d
only felt the bite of that accursed metal by touch. It burned his finger like he’d touched the sun.
In the standoff, Isaac scrambled to his feet and backed away. The pack enforcers tore off their oversized sweats. Both of
them twisted in the dance of the shifter. Seconds later, the injured rogue faced not only silver but a pair of angry wolves.
Wolves alone were deadly animals. With the mind of a shifter, they became even more dangerous. Injured and cornered,
any animal was at its most lethal. The rogue snapped its jaws at the other wolves, then jerked its head back to snap at Kiera. It
flinched when she slashed the air.
“Let my men handle it,” Elijah said.
He ripped at his clothes, tossing his shirt away before moving to his pants. Behind the enforcers, Isaac did the same.
Shifting while clothed left the wolf vulnerable, half trapped in the cloth. Elijah would have done anything to protect his mate at
that moment, even sacrificing himself if needed.
Kiera cackled, sneering at the injured rogue. She licked a drop of its blood from her upper lip and raised her knife. Elijah’s
inner wolf howled its excitement. She was a worthy mate, he knew. As much as she rejected the bond and didn’t want his help,
he’d at least join her in battle.
His bones popped and crackled in the shift. It always hurts to shift. It hurt less than the first time they shifted, but the pain
never went away. The pack enforcers took several seconds to stand on all fours as wolves. With his power, Elijah rose,
growling furiously at the rogue.
The scents of battle hit his lupine nose, the smell of blood, silver, rage, fear, and death. He also caught the smell of his mate
but gritted his teeth, knowing he couldn’t let it distract him from the task at hand.
The rogue shirked away as Elijah growled. Its muzzle shook between him and Kiera. She advanced, cursed knife at the
ready. Behind the rogue, Isaac joined the enforcers on all fours. The three of them crept closer to the penned rogue.
“You don’t have to die today,” Kiera said. “You answer some questions, and you might live to see tomorrow. What do you
say? Shift and talk or be put down like a rabid dog. Curious as I am to hear your answers, I wouldn’t mind tasting more of your
blood.”
She held herself like a goddess of battle. Elijah marveled at the thought of her as his mate. Even in her human form, she was
an equal to his wolf, a true partner. He couldn’t wait to hunt with her and stalk through the forest with her under the full moon.
Those wonderful thoughts almost cost him everything.
The cornered wolf’s yellow eyes met Elijah’s, then darted past him. He missed it in his thoughts of his mate. In a single
moment, the hilt of her knife stuck out of the rogue’s neck, and Elijah found himself on his side.
Kiera’s scent filled his nose. Her warmth covered him. He could have stayed under her forever. Then he heard her pained
grunt and smelled her blood.
Another rogue had leaped from the undergrowth. It would have taken him unaware if Kiera hadn’t pushed him down. Now,
it held her forearm in its jaws. Even injured, his mate struck back. She jammed her thumb in the wolf’s eye.
The second rogue jerked away, letting go of her arm. Elijah pounced. The rogue’s paw missed him with a swipe of its
claws. He clamped onto its neck. Lifeblood filled his mouth as he shook his head back and forth. The dying wolf crumpled to
the ground when Elijah opened his jaws. Isaac and the enforcers dealt with another wolf he hadn’t even seen join the attack.
They had it well in hand. Even if they hadn’t, his mate would have stolen all his attention.
She stood in a crouch over the body of the first rogue to attack. The knife she’d thrown was back in her hand. She cradled
her injured arm close to her chest, circling around with eyes on the trees, ready for another attack.
Elijah almost felt her pulse within him. Even in his wolf form, his forearm throbbed from her injury. Her head darted to
face him, eyes wide as the moon. She felt it too. Nothing tested a bond like a battle. Not even she could deny that.
Still, she tried. Her face paled as her jaw dropped. No, she wasn’t scared. It took a lot more than that realization to faze his
mate. She teetered like a tree, just a gust away from falling in a storm.
The shift back to human always hurt worse. Elijah didn’t feel a thing. He rushed forward on two legs to catch Kiera before
she fell to the ground.
“We need to get her back to the compound,” Elijah said to his wolves. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”
Isaac yipped and rushed in front of Elijah. The two pack enforcers moved behind him, one’s muzzle covered in a rogue’s
blood. They nodded and followed.
“I’m fine, just a little woozy,” Kiera muttered. She tried to pull away from Elijah’s hold. “Not like I haven’t been bitten by
a wolf before.”
She giggled, and her head slumped against his shoulder. In another circumstance, he’d have reveled in that closeness. Now,
every second mattered. He wouldn’t let her bleed out. He couldn’t lose her. He hurried as fast as he could run. The wolves
could have lapped him.
“You saved my life back there,” he whispered.
“I saved you from a bite in the ass,” she replied. “I bled all over one of my favorite tops.”
“I’ll get you a new one, ten of them.”
“You bet …”
She slumped in his arms, going limp. He felt her pulse beating faintly as he ran faster than he ever had on two feet.
NINE
 KIERA

T he harsh stink of antiseptic pulled Kiera fully back to consciousness. Without even opening her eyes, she knew Elijah
was close. Her head rolled toward him before she shook it. Her arm burned, but she could ignore the pain.
“Don’t move. The healer is on her way,” Elijah’s voice said from exactly where she knew he was. “You’ve lost a lot
of blood.”
“I don’t need any healing,” Kiera replied, trying to push herself up. “A quick shift to the wolf and back, and my arm will be
fine. There’s a nice bloody steak in my fridge back home waiting for me.”
A large hand dropped to her chest just below her neck. Elijah didn’t push her down, but she couldn’t lift herself any further.
Even worse, his touch felt deliciously warm. Defeated, she fell back and finally opened her eyes.
Elijah’s gray eyes, as warm as his hand with concern, stared down at her. He was shirtless, which she found incredibly
distracting, but she attempted to ignore him completely. He flashed a lopsided grin as if he could read her mind.
The bond.
She’d tried to ignore it, push it away. But just like his hand keeping her on the bed, there was no way out of it. It didn’t
offer access to each other’s every thought but made it easier to sense each other. At least, that was how she understood it. It
was something she never thought she’d have to worry about so it wasn’t like she researched it.
Kiera looked every way except at Elijah. He’d taken her to a large bedroom. The walls were bare logs, darkly stained.
Thick beams stood out along the ceiling. The furnishings were spartan, with a wide dresser and desk made of the same dark
wood. Late afternoon sun peeked through the trees beyond the windows.
Large as the room and bed were, they felt tiny and confining to Kiera. Her breath sped, nearing panic. She’d run free almost
her entire life. She wouldn’t be confined. She’d die first.
“Calm down,” Elijah said.
His voice was firm and hard as granite. He’d given a command. As alpha, it would have hit any member of his pack like a
tranquilizer dart. Nobody gave her a command. She was nobody’s pet. Never would be.
She pushed herself up with her uninjured arm. Elijah’s hand returned to her chest. Try as she might, she didn’t have the
strength to shove it off. This time, he pushed her down to the bed.
“You are staying put until the healer gets here if I have to tie you to the bed.” His hand remained against her chest even after
she stopped resisting.
Kiera tried to argue again. This hadn’t been her first bite. It probably wasn’t her worst. The shift would heal her just fine.
Elijah wouldn’t have it. That only made her dig in her heels more. A knock on the door ended the futile argument. Elijah
said they were waiting for the healer. That had Kiera expecting a grizzled old medicine man or an ancient-woods witch with
leaves and flowers tangled in her unkempt nest of hair and a wart the size of a walnut on her nose.
Instead, a dark-haired woman wearing blue scrubs hurried to the side of the bed. She carried a large black duffle bag with
a red cross on it. It thudded to the floor when she set it down, sending a confusing cloud of harsh medicinal and earthy herbal
scents along with that of another wolf. One of her brows rose when Kiera glared at her.
“Isaac briefed me, sir,” she said, flashing a smile at Elijah.
An unwanted rush of jealousy shot through Kiera. She slammed the door on that, though one side of Elijah’s mouth ticked
upward. Had he sensed it? Smelled it? Damn her traitorous body, and damn that bond.
“Good. After you are done with her, I want you to check on him and the others.”
Elijah’s commanding tone held a warmth, one absent from the alpha of her mother’s pack and her memories of her father. A
part of her clung to even such a small difference, arguing for her to accept him. With a twist of her injured arm, pain laced
through her, sending such thoughts to oblivion.
The move hadn’t gone unnoticed. Elijah sucked in a breath and leaned closer, only to hesitate and back away. The other
woman shook her head slightly, sending her dark ponytail dancing, and unzipped her medical bag.
“Kiera, right? I’m Mel.” She gave a perfunctory bedside manner grin before her eyes fell on Kiera’s swaddled injured arm.
“Isaac said you got mauled pretty bad. Shifting can heal most wounds …”
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voulez pas voir de belles femmes, comment ferez-vous ce soir aux
Italiens? Une famille anglaise qui repart pour Londres m’a cédé le
reste de son abonnement, et vous avez une belle loge. Oh! une loge
superbe, aux premières.
Tombé dans une profonde rêverie, Raphaël n’écoutait plus.
Voyez-vous cette fastueuse voiture, ce coupé simple en dehors,
de couleur brune, mais sur les panneaux duquel brille l’écusson
d’une antique et noble famille? Quand ce coupé passe rapidement,
les grisettes l’admirent, en convoitent le satin jaune, le tapis de la
Savonnerie, la passementerie fraîche comme une paille de riz, les
moelleux coussins, et les glaces muettes. Deux laquais en livrée se
tiennent derrière cette voiture aristocratique; mais au fond, sur la
soie, gît une tête brûlante aux yeux cernés, la tête de Raphaël, triste
et pensif. Fatale image de la richesse! Il court à travers Paris comme
une fusée, arrive au péristyle du théâtre Favart, le marchepied se
déploie, ses deux valets le soutiennent, une foule envieuse le
regarde.
—Qu’a-t-il fait celui-là pour être si riche? dit un pauvre étudiant
en droit, qui, faute d’un écu, ne pouvait entendre les magiques
accords de Rossini.
Raphaël marchait lentement dans les corridors de la salle; il ne
se promettait aucune jouissance de ces plaisirs si fort enviés jadis.
En attendant le second acte de la Semiramide, il se promenait au
foyer, errait à travers les galeries, insouciant de sa loge dans
laquelle il n’était pas encore entré. Le sentiment de la propriété
n’existait déjà plus au fond de son cœur. Semblable à tous les
malades, il ne songeait qu’à son mal. Appuyé sur le manteau de la
cheminée, autour de laquelle abondaient, au milieu du foyer, les
jeunes et vieux élégants, d’anciens et de nouveaux ministres, des
pairs sans pairie, et des pairies sans pair, telles que les a faites la
révolution de juillet, enfin tout un monde de spéculateurs et de
journalistes, Raphaël vit à quelques pas de lui, parmi toutes les
têtes, une figure étrange et surnaturelle. Il s’avança en clignant les
yeux fort insolemment vers cet être bizarre, afin de le contempler de
plus près. Quelle admirable peinture! se dit-il. Les sourcils, les
cheveux, la virgule à la Mazarin que montrait vaniteusement
l’inconnu, étaient teints en noir; mais, appliqué sur une chevelure
sans doute trop blanche, le cosmétique avait produit une couleur
violâtre et fausse dont les teintes changeaient suivant les reflets plus
ou moins vifs des lumières. Son visage étroit et plat, dont les rides
étaient comblées par d’épaisses couches de rouge et de blanc,
exprimait à la fois la ruse et l’inquiétude. Cette enluminure manquait
à quelques endroits de la face et faisait singulièrement ressortir sa
décrépitude et son teint plombé; aussi était-il impossible de ne pas
rire en voyant cette tête au menton pointu, au front proéminent,
assez semblable à ces grotesques figures de bois sculptées en
Allemagne par les bergers, pendant leurs loisirs. En examinant tour
à tour ce vieil Adonis et Raphaël, un observateur aurait cru
reconnaître dans le marquis les yeux d’un jeune homme sous le
masque d’un vieillard, et dans l’inconnu les yeux ternes d’un vieillard
sous le masque d’un jeune homme. Valentin cherchait à se rappeler
en quelle circonstance il avait vu ce petit vieux sec, bien cravaté,
botté en adulte, qui faisait sonner ses éperons et se croisait les bras
comme s’il avait toutes les forces d’une pétulante jeunesse à
dépenser. Sa démarche n’accusait rien de gêné, ni d’artificiel. Son
élégant habit, soigneusement boutonné, déguisait une antique et
forte charpente, en lui donnant la tournure d’un vieux fat qui suit
encore les modes. Cette espèce de poupée pleine de vie avait pour
Raphaël tous les charmes d’une apparition, et il le contemplait
comme un vieux Rembrandt enfumé, récemment restauré, verni, mis
dans un cadre neuf. Cette comparaison lui fit retrouver la trace de la
vérité dans ses confus souvenirs: il reconnut le marchand de
curiosités, l’homme auquel il devait son malheur. En ce moment, un
rire muet échappait à ce fantastique personnage, et se dessinait sur
ses lèvres froides, tendues par un faux râtelier. A ce rire, la vive
imagination de Raphaël lui montra dans cet homme de frappantes
ressemblances avec la tête idéale que les peintres ont donnée au
Méphistophélès de Goëthe. Mille superstitions s’emparèrent de
l’âme forte de Raphaël, il crut alors à la puissance du démon, à tous
les sortiléges rapportés dans les légendes du moyen âge et mises
en œuvre par les poètes. Se refusant avec horreur au sort de Faust,
il invoqua soudain le ciel, ayant, comme les mourants, une foi
fervente en Dieu, en la vierge Marie. Une radieuse et fraîche lumière
lui permit d’apercevoir le ciel de Michel-Ange et de Sanzio d’Urbin:
des nuages, un vieillard à barbe blanche, des têtes ailées, une belle
femme assise dans une auréole. Maintenant il comprenait, il adoptait
ces admirables créations dont les fantaisies presque humaines lui
expliquaient son aventure et lui permettaient encore un espoir. Mais
quand ses yeux retombèrent sur le foyer des Italiens, au lieu de la
Vierge, il vit une ravissante fille, la détestable Euphrasie, cette
danseuse au corps souple et léger, qui, vêtue d’une robe éclatante,
couverte de perles orientales, arrivait impatiente de son vieillard
impatient, et venait se montrer, insolente, le front hardi, les yeux
pétillants, à ce monde envieux et spéculateur pour témoigner de la
richesse sans bornes d’un marchand dont elle dissipait les trésors.
Raphaël se souvint du souhait goguenard par lequel il avait accueilli
le fatal présent du vieux homme, et savoura tous les plaisirs de la
vengeance en contemplant l’humiliation profonde de cette sagesse
sublime, dont naguère la chute semblait impossible. Le funèbre
sourire du centenaire s’adressait à Euphrasie qui répondit par un
mot d’amour; il lui offrit son bras desséché, fit deux ou trois fois le
tour du foyer, recueillit avec délices les regards de passion et les
compliments jetés par la foule à sa maîtresse, sans voir les rires
dédaigneux, sans entendre les railleries mordantes dont il était
l’objet.
—Dans quel cimetière cette jeune goule a-t-elle déterré ce
cadavre? s’écria le plus élégant de tous les romantiques.
Euphrasie se prit à sourire. Le railleur était un jeune homme aux
cheveux blonds, aux yeux bleus et brillants, svelte, portant
moustache, ayant un frac écourté, le chapeau sur l’oreille, la repartie
vive, tout le langage du genre.
—Combien de vieillards, se dit Raphaël en lui-même, couronnent
une vie de probité, de travail, de vertu, par une folie. Celui-ci a les
pieds froids et fait l’amour.
 —Hé bien! monsieur, s’écria Valentin en arrêtant le marchand et
lançant une œillade à Euphrasie, ne vous souvenez-vous plus des
sévères maximes de votre philosophie?
—Ah! répondit le marchand d’une voix déjà cassée, je suis
maintenant heureux comme un jeune homme. J’avais pris
l’existence au rebours. Il y a toute une vie dans une heure d’amour.
En ce moment, les spectateurs entendirent la sonnette de rappel
et quittèrent le foyer pour se rendre à leurs places. Le vieillard et
Raphaël se séparèrent. En entrant dans sa loge, le marquis aperçut
Fœdora, placée à l’autre côté de la salle précisément en face de lui.
Sans doute arrivée depuis peu, la comtesse rejetait son écharpe en
arrière, se découvrait le cou, faisait les petits mouvements
indescriptibles d’une coquette occupée à se poser: tous les regards
étaient concentrés sur elle. Un jeune pair de France l’accompagnait,
elle lui demanda la lorgnette qu’elle lui avait donnée à porter. A son
geste, à la manière dont elle regarda ce nouveau partenaire,
Raphaël devina la tyrannie à laquelle son successeur était soumis.
Fasciné sans doute comme il l’avait été jadis, dupé comme lui,
comme lui luttant avec toute la puissance d’un amour vrai contre les
froids calculs de cette femme, ce jeune homme devait souffrir les
tourments auxquels Valentin avait heureusement renoncé. Une joie
inexprimable anima la figure de Fœdora, quand, après avoir braqué
sa lorgnette sur toutes les loges, et rapidement examiné les toilettes,
elle eut la conscience d’écraser par sa parure et par sa beauté les
plus jolies, les plus élégantes femmes de Paris; elle se mit à rire
pour montrer ses dents blanches, agita sa tête ornée de fleurs pour
se faire admirer, son regard alla de loge en loge, se moquant d’un
béret gauchement posé sur le front d’une princesse russe, ou d’un
chapeau manqué qui coiffait horriblement mal la fille d’un banquier.
Tout à coup elle pâlit en rencontrant les yeux fixes de Raphaël; son
amant dédaigné la foudroya par un intolérable coup d’œil de mépris.
Quand aucun de ses amants bannit ne méconnaissait sa puissance,
Valentin, seul dans le monde, était à l’abri de ses séductions. Un
pouvoir impunément bravé touche à sa ruine. Cette maxime est
gravée plus profondément au cœur d’une femme qu’à la tête des
rois. Aussi, Fœdora voyait-elle en Raphaël la mort de ses prestiges
et de sa coquetterie. Un mot, dit par lui la veille à l’Opéra, était déjà
devenu célèbre dans les salons de Paris. Le tranchant de cette
terrible épigramme avait fait à la comtesse une blessure incurable.
En France, nous savons cautériser une plaie, mais nous n’y
connaissons pas encore de remède au mal que produit une phrase.
Au moment où toutes les femmes regardèrent alternativement le
marquis et la comtesse, Fœdora aurait voulu l’abîmer dans les
oubliettes de quelque Bastille, car malgré son talent pour la
dissimulation, ses rivales devinèrent sa souffrance. Enfin sa dernière
consolation lui échappa. Ces mots délicieux: je suis la plus belle!
cette phrase éternelle qui calmait tous les chagrins de sa vanité,
devint un mensonge. A l’ouverture du second acte, une femme vint
se placer près de Raphaël, dans une loge qui jusqu’alors était restée
vide. Le parterre entier laissa échapper un murmure d’admiration.
Cette mer de faces humaines agita ses lames intelligentes et tous
les yeux regardèrent l’inconnue. Jeunes et vieux firent un tumulte si
prolongé que, pendant le lever du rideau, les musiciens de
l’orchestre se tournèrent d’abord pour réclamer le silence; mais ils
s’unirent aux applaudissements et en accrurent les confuses
rumeurs. Des conversations animées s’établirent dans chaque loge.
Les femmes s’étaient toutes armées de leurs jumelles, les vieillards
rajeunis nettoyaient avec la peau de leurs gants le verre de leurs
lorgnettes. L’enthousiasme se calma par degrés, les chants
retentirent sur la scène, tout rentra dans l’ordre. La bonne
compagnie, honteuse d’avoir cédé à un mouvement naturel, reprit la
froideur aristocratique de ses manières polies. Les riches veulent ne
s’étonner de rien, ils doivent reconnaître au premier aspect d’une
belle œuvre le défaut qui les dispensera de l’admiration, sentiment
vulgaire. Cependant quelques hommes restèrent immobiles sans
écouter la musique, perdus dans un ravissement naïf, occupés à
contempler la voisine de Raphaël. Valentin aperçut dans une
baignoire, et près d’Aquilina, l’ignoble et sanglante figure de Taillefer,
qui lui adressait une grimace approbative. Puis il vit Émile, qui,
debout à l’orchestre, semblait lui dire:—Mais regarde donc la belle
créature qui est près de toi! Enfin Rastignac assis près d’une jeune
femme, une veuve sans doute, tortillait ses gants comme un homme
au désespoir d’être enchaîné là, sans pouvoir aller près de la divine
inconnue. La vie de Raphaël dépendait d’un pacte encore inviolé
qu’il avait fait avec lui-même, il s’était promis de ne jamais regarder
attentivement aucune femme, et pour se mettre à l’abri d’une
tentation, il portait un lorgnon dont le verre microscopique
artistement disposé, détruisait l’harmonie des plus beaux traits, en
leur donnant un hideux aspect. Encore en proie à la terreur qui
l’avait saisi le matin, quand, pour un simple vœu de politesse, le
talisman s’était si promptement resserré, Raphaël résolut fermement
de ne pas se retourner vers sa voisine. Assis comme une duchesse,
il présentait le dos au coin de sa loge, et dérobait avec impertinence
la moitié de la scène à l’inconnue, ayant l’air de la mépriser,
d’ignorer même qu’une jolie femme se trouvât derrière lui. La voisine
copiait avec exactitude la posture de Valentin. Elle avait appuyé son
coude sur le bord de la loge, et se mettait la tête de trois quarts, en
regardant les chanteurs, comme si elle se fût posée devant un
peintre. Ces deux personnes ressemblaient à deux amants brouillés
qui se boudent, se tournent le dos et vont s’embrasser au premier
mot d’amour. Par moments, les légers marabouts ou les cheveux de
l’inconnue effleuraient la tête de Raphaël et lui causaient une
sensation voluptueuse contre laquelle il luttait courageusement;
bientôt il sentit le doux contact des ruches de blonde qui garnissaient
le tour de la robe, la robe elle-même fit entendre le murmure
efféminé de ses plis, frissonnement plein de molles sorcelleries;
enfin le mouvement imperceptible imprimé par la respiration à la
poitrine, au dos, aux vêtements de cette jolie femme, toute sa vie
suave se communiqua soudain à Raphaël comme une étincelle
électrique; le tulle et la dentelle transmirent fidèlement à son épaule
chatouillée la délicieuse chaleur de ce dos blanc et nu. Par un
caprice de la nature, ces deux êtres désunis par le bon ton, séparés
par les abîmes de la mort, respirèrent ensemble et pensèrent peut-
être l’un à l’autre. Les pénétrants parfums de l’aloës achevèrent
d’enivrer Raphaël. Son imagination irritée par un obstacle, et que les
entraves rendaient encore plus fantasque, lui dessina rapidement
une femme en traits de feu. Il se retourna brusquement. Choquée
sans doute de se trouver en contact avec un étranger, l’inconnue fit
un mouvement semblable; leurs visages, animés par la même
pensée, restèrent en présence.
 —Pauline!
—Monsieur Raphaël!
Pétrifiés l’un et l’autre, ils se regardèrent un instant en silence.
Raphaël voyait Pauline dans une toilette simple et de bon goût. A
travers la gaze qui couvrait chastement son corsage, des yeux
habiles pouvaient apercevoir une blancheur de lis et deviner des
formes qu’une femme eût admirées. Puis c’était toujours sa
modestie virginale, sa céleste candeur, sa gracieuse attitude. L’étoffe
de sa manche accusait le tremblement qui faisait palpiter le corps
comme palpitait le cœur.
—Oh! venez demain, dit-elle, venez à l’hôtel Saint-Quentin, y
reprendre vos papiers. J’y serai à midi. Soyez exact.
Elle se leva précipitamment et disparut. Raphaël voulut suivre
Pauline, il craignit de la compromettre, resta, regarda Fœdora, la
trouva laide; mais ne pouvant comprendre une seule phrase de
musique, étouffant dans cette salle, le cœur plein, il sortit et revint
chez lui.
—Jonathas, dit-il à son vieux domestique au moment où il fut
dans son lit, donne-moi une demi-goutte de laudanum sur un
morceau de sucre, et demain ne me réveille qu’à midi moins vingt
minutes.
—Je veux être aimé de Pauline, s’écria-t-il le lendemain en
regardant le talisman avec une indéfinissable angoisse. La peau ne
fit aucun mouvement, elle semblait avoir perdu sa force contractile,
elle ne pouvait sans doute pas réaliser un désir accompli déjà.
—Ah! s’écria Raphaël en se sentant délivré comme d’un
manteau de plomb qu’il aurait porté depuis le jour où le talisman lui
avait été donné, tu mens, tu ne m’obéis pas, le pacte est rompu! Je
suis libre, je vivrai. C’était donc une mauvaise plaisanterie. En disant
ces paroles, il n’osait pas croire à sa propre pensée. Il se mit aussi
simplement qu’il l’était jadis, et voulut aller à pied à son ancienne
demeure, en essayant de se reporter en idée à ces jours heureux où
il se livrait sans danger à la furie de ses désirs, où il n’avait point
encore jugé toutes les jouissances humaines. Il marchait, voyant,
non plus la Pauline de l’hôtel Saint-Quentin, mais la Pauline de la
veille, cette maîtresse accomplie, si souvent rêvée, jeune fille
spirituelle, aimante, artiste, comprenant les poètes, comprenant la
poésie et vivant au sein du luxe; en un mot Fœdora douée d’une
belle âme, ou Pauline comtesse et deux fois millionnaire comme
l’était Fœdora. Quand il se trouva sur le seuil usé, sur la dalle
cassée de cette porte où, tant de fois, il avait eu des pensées de
désespoir, une vieille femme sortit de la salle et lui dit:—N’êtes-vous
pas monsieur Raphaël de Valentin?
—Oui, ma bonne mère, répondit-il.
—Vous connaissez votre ancien logement, reprit-elle, vous y êtes
attendu.
—Cet hôtel est-il toujours tenu par madame Gaudin? demanda-t-
il.
—Oh! non, monsieur. Maintenant madame Gaudin est baronne.
Elle est dans une belle maison à elle, de l’autre côté de l’eau. Son
mari est revenu. Dame! il a rapporté des mille et des cents. L’on dit
qu’elle pourrait acheter tout le quartier Saint-Jacques, si elle le
voulait. Elle m’a donné gratis son fonds et son restant de bail. Ah!
c’est une bonne femme tout de même! Elle n’est pas plus fière
aujourd’hui qu’elle ne l’était hier.
Raphaël monta lestement à sa mansarde, et quand il atteignit les
dernières marches de l’escalier, il entendit les sons du piano.
Pauline était là modestement vêtue d’une robe de percaline; mais la
façon de la robe, les gants, le chapeau, le châle, négligemment jetés
sur le lit, révélaient toute une fortune.
—Ah! vous voilà donc! s’écria Pauline en tournant la tête et se
levant par un naïf mouvement de joie.
Raphaël vint s’asseoir près d’elle, rougissant, honteux, heureux;
il la regarda sans rien dire.
—Pourquoi nous avez-vous donc quittées? reprit-elle en baissant
les yeux au moment où son visage s’empourpra. Qu’êtes-vous
devenu?
 —Ah! Pauline, j’ai été, je suis bien malheureux encore!
—Là! s’écria-t-elle tout attendrie. J’ai deviné votre sort hier en
vous voyant bien mis, riche en apparence, mais en réalité, hein!
monsieur Raphaël, est-ce toujours comme autrefois?
Valentin ne put retenir quelques larmes, elles roulèrent dans ses
yeux, il s’écria:—Pauline!... je... Il n’acheva pas, ses yeux
étincelèrent d’amour, et son cœur déborda dans son regard.
—Oh! il m’aime, il m’aime, s’écria Pauline.
Raphaël fit un signe de tête, car il se sentit hors d’état de
prononcer une seule parole. A ce geste, la jeune fille lui prit la main,
la serra, et lui dit tantôt riant, tantôt sanglotant:—Riches, riches,
heureux, riches, ta Pauline est riche. Mais moi, je devrais être bien
pauvre aujourd’hui. J’ai mille fois dit que je paierais ce mot: il
m’aime, de tous les trésors de la terre. O mon Raphaël! j’ai des
millions. Tu aimes le luxe, tu seras content; mais tu dois aimer mon
cœur aussi, il y a tant d’amour pour toi dans ce cœur! Tu ne sais
pas? mon père est revenu. Je suis une riche héritière. Ma mère et lui
me laissent entièrement maîtresse de mon sort; je suis libre,
comprends-tu?
En proie à une sorte de délire, Raphaël tenait les mains de
Pauline, et les baisait si ardemment, si avidement, que son baiser
semblait être une sorte de convulsion. Pauline se dégagea les
mains, les jeta sur les épaules de Raphaël et le saisit; ils se
comprirent, se serrèrent et s’embrassèrent avec cette sainte et
délicieuse ferveur, dégagée de toute arrière-pensée, dont se trouve
empreint un seul baiser, le premier baiser par lequel deux âmes
prennent possession d’elles-mêmes.
—Ah! s’écria Pauline en retombant sur la chaise, je ne veux plus
te quitter. Je ne sais d’où me vient tant de hardiesse! reprit-elle en
rougissant.
—De la hardiesse, ma Pauline? Oh! ne crains rien, c’est de
l’amour, de l’amour vrai, profond, éternel comme le mien, n’est-ce
pas?
 —Oh! parle, parle, parle, dit-elle. Ta bouche a été si longtemps
muette pour moi!
—Tu m’aimais donc?
—Oh! Dieu, si je t’aimais! combien de fois j’ai pleuré, là, tiens, en
faisant ta chambre, déplorant ta misère et la mienne. Je me serais
vendue au démon pour t’éviter un chagrin! Aujourd’hui, mon
Raphaël, car tu es bien à moi: à moi cette belle tête, à moi ton cœur!
Oh! oui, ton cœur, surtout, éternelle richesse! Eh! bien, où en suis-
je? reprit-elle après une pause. Ah! m’y voici: nous avons trois,
quatre, cinq millions, je crois. Si j’étais pauvre je tiendrais peut-être à
porter ton nom, à être nommée ta femme mais, en ce moment, je
voudrais te sacrifier le monde entier, je voudrais être encore et
toujours ta servante. Va, Raphaël, en t’offrant mon cœur, ma
personne, ma fortune, je ne te donnerai rien de plus aujourd’hui que
le jour où j’ai mis là, dit-elle en montrant le tiroir de la table, certaine
pièce de cent sous. Oh! comme alors ta joie m’a fait mal.
—Pourquoi es-tu riche, s’écria Raphaël, pourquoi n’as-tu pas de
vanité? je ne puis rien pour toi. Il se tordit les mains de bonheur, de
désespoir, d’amour. Quand tu seras madame la marquise de
Valentin, je te connais, âme céleste, ce titre et ma fortune ne
vaudront pas...
—Un seul de tes cheveux, s’écria-t-elle.
—Moi aussi, j’ai des millions; mais que sont maintenant les
richesses pour nous? Ah! j’ai ma vie, je puis te l’offrir, prends-la.
—Oh! ton amour, Raphaël, ton amour vaut le monde. Comment,
ta pensée est à moi? mais je suis la plus heureuse des heureuses.
—L’on va nous entendre, dit Raphaël.
—Hé! il n’y a personne, répondit-elle en laissant échapper un
geste mutin.
—Hé! bien, viens, s’écria Valentin en lui tendant les bras.
Elle sauta sur ses genoux et joignit ses mains autour du cou de
Raphaël:—Embrassez-moi, dit-elle, pour tous les chagrins que vous
m’avez donnés, pour effacer la peine que vos joies m’ont faite, pour
toutes les nuits que j’ai passées à peindre mes écrans.
—Tes écrans!
—Puisque nous sommes riches, mon trésor, je puis te dire tout.
Pauvre enfant! combien il est facile de tromper les hommes d’esprit!
Est-ce que tu pouvais avoir des gilets blancs et des chemises
propres deux fois par semaine, pour trois francs de blanchissage par
mois? Mais tu buvais deux fois plus de lait qu’il ne t’en revenait pour
ton argent. Je t’attrapais sur tout: le feu, l’huile, et l’argent donc? Oh!
mon Raphaël, ne me prends pas pour femme, dit-elle en riant, je
suis une personne trop astucieuse.
—Mais comment faisais-tu donc?
—Je travaillais jusqu’à deux heures du matin, répondit-elle, et je
donnais à ma mère une moitié du prix de mes écrans, à toi l’autre.
Ils se regardèrent pendant un moment, tous deux hébétés de joie
et d’amour.
—Oh! s’écria Raphaël, nous paierons sans doute, un jour, ce
bonheur par quelque effroyable chagrin.
—Serais-tu marié? cria Pauline. Ah! je ne veux te céder à aucune
femme.
—Je suis libre, ma chérie.
—Libre, répéta-t-elle. Libre, et à moi!
Elle se laissa glisser sur ses genoux, joignit les mains, et regarda
Raphaël avec une dévotieuse ardeur.
—J’ai peur de devenir folle. Combien tu es gentil! reprit-elle en
passant une main dans la blonde chevelure de son amant. Est-elle
bête, ta comtesse Fœdora! Quel plaisir j’ai ressenti hier en me
voyant saluée par tous ces hommes. Elle n’a jamais été applaudie,
elle! Dis, cher, quand mon dos a touché ton bras, j’ai entendu en moi
je ne sais quelle voix qui m’a crié: Il est là. Je me suis retournée, et
je t’ai vu. Oh! je me suis sauvée, je me sentais l’envie de te sauter
au cou devant tout le monde.
 —Tu es bien heureuse de pouvoir parler, s’écria Raphaël. Moi,
j’ai le cœur serré. Je voudrais pleurer, je ne puis. Ne me retire pas ta
main. Il me semble que je resterais, pendant toute ma vie, à te
regarder ainsi, heureux, content.
—Oh! répète-moi cela, mon amour!
—Et que sont les paroles, reprit Valentin en laissant tomber une
larme chaude sur les mains de Pauline. Plus tard, j’essaierai de te
dire mon amour, en ce moment je ne puis que le sentir...
—Oh! s’écria-t-elle, cette belle âme, ce beau génie, ce cœur que
je connais si bien, tout est à moi, comme je suis à toi.
—Pour toujours, ma douce créature, dit Raphaël d’une voix
émue. Tu seras ma femme, mon bon génie. Ta présence a toujours
dissipé mes chagrins et rafraîchi mon âme; en ce moment, ton
sourire angélique m’a pour ainsi dire purifié. Je crois commencer
une nouvelle vie. Le passé cruel et mes tristes folies me semblent
n’être plus que de mauvais songes. Je suis pur, près de toi. Je sens
l’air du bonheur. Oh! sois là toujours, ajouta-t-il en la pressant
saintement sur son cœur palpitant.
—Vienne la mort quand elle voudra, s’écria Pauline en extase,
j’ai vécu.
Heureux qui devinera leurs joies, il les aura connues!
—Oh! mon Raphaël, dit Pauline après quelques heures de
silence, je voudrais qu’à l’avenir personne n’entrât dans cette chère
mansarde.
—Il faut murer la porte, mettre une grille à la lucarne et acheter la
maison, répondit le marquis.
—C’est cela, dit-elle. Puis, après un moment de silence:—Nous
avons un peu oublié de chercher les manuscrits?
Ils se prirent à rire avec une douce innocence.
—Bah! je me moque de toutes les sciences, s’écria Raphaël.
—Ah! monsieur, et la gloire!
 —Tu es ma seule gloire.
—Tu étais bien malheureux en faisant ces petits pieds de
mouche, dit-elle en feuilletant les papiers.
—Ma Pauline...
—Oh! oui, je suis ta Pauline. Eh bien?
—Où demeures-tu donc?
—Rue Saint-Lazare. Et toi?
—Rue de Varennes.
—Comme nous serons loin l’un de l’autre, jusqu’à ce que... Elle
s’arrêta en regardant son ami d’un air coquet et malicieux.
—Mais, répondit Raphaël, nous avons tout au plus une quinzaine
de jours à rester séparés.
—Vrai! dans quinze jours nous serons mariés! Elle sauta comme
un enfant. Oh! je suis une fille dénaturée, reprit-elle, je ne pense plus
ni à père, ni à mère, ni à rien dans le monde! Tu ne sais pas, pauvre
chéri? mon père est bien malade. Il est revenu des Indes, bien
souffrant. Il a manqué mourir au Havre, où nous l’avons été
chercher. Ah! Dieu, s’écria-t-elle en regardant l’heure à sa montre,
déjà trois heures. Je dois me trouver à son réveil, à quatre heures.
Je suis la maîtresse au logis: ma mère fait toutes mes volontés, mon
père m’adore, mais je ne veux pas abuser de leur bonté, ce serait
mal! Le pauvre père, c’est lui qui m’a envoyée aux Italiens hier. Tu
viendras le voir demain, n’est-ce pas?
—Madame la marquise de Valentin veut-elle me faire l’honneur
d’accepter mon bras?
—Ah! je vais emporter la clef de cette chambre, reprit-elle. N’est-
ce pas un palais, notre trésor?
—Pauline, encore un baiser?
—Mille! Mon Dieu, dit-elle en regardant Raphaël, ce sera toujours
ainsi, je crois rêver.
 Ils descendirent lentement l’escalier; puis, bien unis, marchant du
même pas, tressaillant ensemble sous le poids du même bonheur,
se serrant comme deux colombes, ils arrivèrent sur la place de la
Sorbonne, où la voiture de Pauline attendait.
—Je veux aller chez toi, s’écria-t-elle. Je veux voir ta chambre,
ton cabinet, et m’asseoir à la table sur laquelle tu travailles. Ce sera
comme autrefois, ajouta-t-elle en rougissant.—Joseph, dit-elle à un
valet, je vais rue de Varennes avant de retourner à la maison. Il est
trois heures un quart, et je dois être revenue à quatre. Georges
pressera les chevaux.
Et les deux amants furent en peu d’instants menés à l’hôtel de
Valentin.
—Oh! que je suis contente d’avoir examiné tout cela, s’écria
Pauline en chiffonnant la soie des rideaux qui drapaient le lit de
Raphaël. Quand je m’endormirai, je serai là, en pensée. Je me
figurerai ta chère tête sur cet oreiller. Dis-moi, Raphaël, tu n’as pris
conseil de personne pour meubler ton hôtel?
—De personne.
—Bien vrai? Ce n’est pas une femme qui...
—Pauline!
—Oh! je me sens une affreuse jalousie. Tu as bon goût. Je veux
avoir demain un lit pareil au tien.
Raphaël, ivre de bonheur, saisit Pauline.
—Oh! mon père, mon père! dit-elle.
—Je vais donc te reconduire, car je veux te quitter le moins
possible, s’écria Valentin.
—Combien tu es aimant! je n’osais pas te le proposer...
—N’es-tu donc pas ma vie?
Il serait fastidieux de consigner fidèlement ces adorables
bavardages de l’amour auxquels l’accent, le regard, un geste
intraduisible donnent seuls du prix. Valentin reconduisit Pauline
jusque chez elle, et revint ayant au cœur autant de plaisir que
l’homme peut en ressentir et en porter ici-bas. Quand il fut assis
dans son fauteuil, près de son feu, pensant à la soudaine et
complète réalisation de toutes ses espérances, une idée froide lui
traversa l’âme comme l’acier d’un poignard perce une poitrine, il
regarda la Peau de chagrin, elle s’était légèrement rétrécie. Il
prononça le grand juron français, sans y mettre les jésuitiques
réticences de l’abbesse des Andouillettes, pencha la tête sur son
fauteuil et resta sans mouvement les yeux arrêtés sur une patère,
sans la voir. Grand Dieu! s’écria-t-il. Quoi! tous mes désirs, tous!
Pauvre Pauline! Il prit un compas, mesura ce que la matinée lui avait
coûté d’existence. Je n’en ai pas pour deux mois, dit-il. Une sueur
glacée sortit de ses pores, tout à coup il obéit à un inexprimable
mouvement de rage, et saisit la Peau de chagrin en s’écriant: Je suis
bien bête! il sortit, courut, traversa les jardins, et jeta le talisman au
fond d’un puits: Vogue la galère, dit-il. Au diable toutes ces sottises!
Raphaël se laissa donc aller au bonheur d’aimer, et vécut cœur à
cœur avec Pauline, qui ne conçut pas le refus en amour. Leur
mariage, retardé par des difficultés peu intéressantes à raconter,
devait se célébrer dans les premiers jours de mars. Ils s’étaient
éprouvés, ne doutaient point d’eux-mêmes, et le bonheur leur ayant
révélé toute la puissance de leur affection, jamais deux âmes, deux
caractères ne s’étaient aussi parfaitement unis qu’ils le furent par la
passion; en s’étudiant ils s’aimèrent davantage: de part et d’autre
même délicatesse, même pudeur, même volupté, la plus douce de
toutes les voluptés, celle des anges; point de nuages dans leur ciel;
tour à tour les désirs de l’un faisaient la loi de l’autre. Riches tous
deux, ils ne connaissaient point de caprices qu’ils ne pussent
satisfaire, et partant n’avaient point de caprices. Un goût exquis, le
sentiment du beau, une vraie poésie animait l’âme de l’épouse;
dédaignant les colifichets de la finance, un sourire de son ami lui
semblait plus beau que toutes les perles d’Ormus, la mousseline ou
les fleurs formaient ses plus riches parures. Pauline et Raphaël
fuyaient d’ailleurs le monde, la solitude leur était si belle, si féconde!
Les oisifs voyaient exactement tous les soirs ce joli ménage de
contrebande aux Italiens ou à l’Opéra. Si d’abord quelques
médisances égayèrent les salons, bientôt le torrent d’événements
qui passa sur Paris fit oublier deux amants inoffensifs; enfin, espèce
d’excuse auprès des prudes, leur mariage était annoncé, et par
hasard leurs gens se trouvaient discrets; donc, aucune méchanceté
trop vive ne les punit de leur bonheur.
Vers la fin du mois de février, époque à laquelle d’assez beaux
jours firent croire aux joies du printemps, un matin, Pauline et
Raphaël déjeunaient ensemble dans une petite serre, espèce de
salon rempli de fleurs, et de plain-pied avec le jardin. Le doux et pâle
soleil de l’hiver, dont les rayons se brisaient à travers des arbustes
rares, tiédissait alors la température. Les yeux étaient égayés par les
vigoureux contrastes des divers feuillages, par les couleurs des
touffes fleuries et par toutes les fantaisies de la lumière et de
l’ombre. Quand tout Paris se chauffait encore devant les tristes
foyers, les deux jeunes époux riaient sous un berceau de camélias,
de lilas, de bruyères. Leurs têtes joyeuses s’élevaient au-dessus des
narcisses, des muguets et des roses du Bengale. Dans cette serre
voluptueuse et riche, les pieds foulaient une natte africaine colorée
comme un tapis. Les parois tendues en coutil vert n’offraient pas la
moindre trace d’humidité. L’ameublement était de bois en apparence
grossier, mais dont l’écorce polie brillait de propreté. Un jeune chat
accroupi sur la table où l’avait attiré l’odeur du lait se laissait
barbouiller de café par Pauline; elle folâtrait avec lui, défendait la
crème qu’elle lui permettait à peine de flairer afin d’exercer sa
patience et d’entretenir le combat; elle éclatait de rire à chacune de
ses grimaces, et débitait mille plaisanteries pour empêcher Raphaël
de lire le journal, qui, dix fois déjà, lui était tombé des mains. Il
abondait dans cette scène matinale un bonheur inexprimable
comme tout ce qui est naturel et vrai. Raphaël feignait toujours de
lire sa feuille, et contemplait à la dérobée Pauline aux prises avec le
chat, sa Pauline enveloppée d’un long peignoir qui la lui voilait
imparfaitement, sa Pauline les cheveux en désordre et montrant un
petit pied blanc veiné de bleu dans une pantoufle de velours noir.
Charmante à voir en déshabillé, délicieuse comme les fantastiques
figures de Westhall, elle semblait être tout à la fois jeune fille et
femme; peut-être plus jeune fille que femme, elle jouissait d’une
félicité sans mélange, et ne connaissait de l’amour que ses
premières joies. Au moment où, tout à fait absorbé par sa douce
rêverie, Raphaël avait oublié son journal, Pauline le saisit, le
chiffonna, en fit une boule, le lança dans le jardin, et le chat courut
après la politique qui tournait comme toujours sur elle-même. Quand
Raphaël, distrait par cette scène enfantine, voulut continuer à lire et
fit le geste de lever la feuille qu’il n’avait plus, éclatèrent des rires
francs, joyeux, renaissant d’eux-mêmes comme les chants d’un
oiseau.
 IMP. S RAÇON

PAULINE.
Un jeune chat accroupi sur la table
se laissait barbouiller de café
par Pauline; elle folâtrait avec lui,
défendait la crème qu’elle lui permettait
à peine de flairer...

(LA PEAU DE CHAGRIN.)

—Je suis jalouse du journal, dit-elle en essuyant les larmes que

son rire d’enfant avait fait couler. N’est-ce pas une félonie, reprit-elle
redevenant femme tout à coup, que de lire des proclamations russes
en ma présence, et de préférer la prose de l’empereur Nicolas à des
paroles, à des regards d’amour?
—Je ne lisais pas, mon ange aimé, je te regardais.
En ce moment le pas lourd du jardinier dont les souliers ferrés
faisaient crier le sable des allées retentit près de la serre.
—Excusez, monsieur le marquis, si je vous interromps ainsi que
madame, mais je vous apporte une curiosité comme je n’en ai
jamais vu. En tirant tout à l’heure, sous votre respect, un seau d’eau,
j’ai amené cette singulière plante marine! La voilà! Faut, tout de
même, que ce soit bien accoutumé à l’eau, car ce n’était point
mouillé, ni humide. C’était sec comme du bois, et point gras du tout.
Comme monsieur le marquis est plus savant que moi certainement,
j’ai pensé qu’il fallait la lui apporter, et que ça l’intéresserait.
Et le jardinier montrait à Raphaël l’inexorable Peau de chagrin
qui n’avait pas six pouces carrés de superficie.
—Merci, Vanière, dit Raphaël. Cette chose est très-curieuse.
—Qu’as-tu, mon ange? tu pâlis! s’écria Pauline.
—Laissez-nous, Vanière.
—Ta voix m’effraie, reprit la jeune fille, elle est singulièrement
altérée. Qu’as-tu? Que te sens-tu? Où as-tu mal? Tu as mal! Un
médecin! cria-t-elle. Jonathas, au secours!
—Ma Pauline, tais-toi, répondit Raphaël qui recouvra son sang-
froid. Sortons. Il y a près de moi une fleur dont le parfum
m’incommode. Peut-être est-ce cette verveine?
Pauline s’élança sur l’innocent arbuste, le saisit par la tige et le
jeta dans le jardin.
—Oh! ange, s’écria-t-elle en serrant Raphaël par une étreinte
aussi forte que leur amour et en lui apportant avec une langoureuse
coquetterie ses lèvres vermeilles à baiser, en te voyant pâlir, j’ai
compris que je ne te survivrais pas: ta vie est ma vie. Mon Raphaël,
passe-moi ta main sur le dos? J’y sens encore la petite mort, j’y ai
froid. Tes lèvres sont brûlantes. Et ta main?... elle est glacée, ajouta-
t-elle.
—Folle! s’écria Raphaël.
—Pourquoi cette larme? dit-elle. Laisse-la-moi boire.
—Oh! Pauline, Pauline, tu m’aimes trop.
—Il se passe en toi quelque chose d’extraordinaire, Raphaël?
Sois vrai, je saurai bientôt ton secret. Donne-moi cela, dit-elle en
prenant la Peau de chagrin.
—Tu es mon bourreau, cria le jeune homme en jetant un regard
d’horreur sur le talisman.
—Quel changement de voix! répondit Pauline qui laissa tomber le
fatal symbole du destin.
—M’aimes-tu? reprit-il.
—Si je t’aime, est-ce une question?
—Eh bien, laisse-moi, va-t’en!
La pauvre petite sortit.
—Quoi! s’écria Raphaël quand il fut seul, dans un siècle de
lumières où nous avons appris que les diamants sont les cristaux du
carbone, à une époque où tout s’explique, où la police traduirait un
nouveau Messie devant les tribunaux et soumettrait ses miracles à
l’Académie des Sciences, dans un temps où nous ne croyons plus
qu’aux paraphes des notaires, je croirais, moi! à une espèce de
Mané, Thekel, Pharès? Non, de par Dieu! je ne penserai pas que
l’Être-Suprême puisse trouver du plaisir à tourmenter une honnête
créature. Allons voir les savants.
Il arriva bientôt, entre la Halle aux vins, immense recueil de
tonneaux, et la Salpétrière, immense séminaire d’ivrognerie, devant
une petite mare où s’ébaudissaient des canards remarquables par la
rareté des espèces et dont les ondoyantes couleurs, semblables aux
vitraux d’une cathédrale, pétillaient sous les rayons du soleil. Tous
les canards du monde étaient là, criant, barbotant, grouillant, et
formant une espèce de chambre canarde rassemblée contre son