On opening night, I headed to the theater an hour early for what the cast called “the long half-hour.” Which really meant that they had an entire hour to prepare for going out on stage. It was our way of making sure that no one was late, that no disasters occurred, and that everyone had enough time backstage to get over any pre-performance jitters.

When I got there, the play’s director, Doug, greeted me with a big hug.

He was one of my favorites. Flamboyant, energetic, and as gay as any guy I’d ever met, which had made me adore him from the moment we’d met two years ago.

“Congratulations again, Ari!” he said.

“For what?” I asked, confused as I pulled back. “It’s your opening night. I’m just the set designer.”

“On taking the Venezia over! I’m so excited to see what you do with the place.”

“Oh, that,” I replied, sweeping a hand through the air dismissively. I still hadn’t adjusted to being seen as the boss around here. “I should be congratulating you, Doug. This production is going to wow the critics.”

“Oh, God, I hope so. Anyhow, I’m so happy for you,” he said. “For all of us. I know you’ll do a great job. I’ve never met anyone so in love with theater as you are. You’re the only set designer in the world who shows up at such ungodly early hours, paints her own sets and doesn’t mind getting acrylic in all her nooks and crannies.”

I laughed. “I guess I’m just a morning person. Anyhow, I’ll need a lot of help to keep this place going,” I said. “So I’ll probably be asking a few people to get up early, at least for a few months until we’ve got our future sorted out.”

“You can count on me. On all of us.” Doug was beginning to look distracted by all the cast members racing around. “Listen, we’ve set you up with your own dressing room for tonight,” he said. “We thought maybe at the end of the show we could bring you out for a bow and introduce the savior of the Venezia, that dreamy Tristan man I’ve seen you with.”

I nodded and smiled. Figured that my director would want into Tristan’s pants as badly as I did. “Sure,” I said, “sounds good. Which room am I headed to in the meantime?”

“Number Two.”

“Okay.” I started to turn away and stopped. “By the way, could you do me a favor—if Tristan comes looking for me…”

“I’ll tell him where to find you,” Doug said, winking. “No problem.”

I strode over to my dressing room and walked in, setting my purse on the table after I’d closed the door behind me. Letting out a deep breath of relief to have made it to opening night unscathed, I sat down and stared at myself in the mirror. I’d dressed up in a dark green number that I thought Tristan would enjoy peeling off me later. It wasn’t as extravagant as the dress he’d lent me in Colorado, but it wasn’t half bad, either. Empire waist, luxurious-looking silk, thin straps, a flowing bodice. It was the sort of dress that made me feel like a princess, if not a queen.

Almost worthy of a shifter god.

I was dabbing on a little lipstick when a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” I chimed, excited to see if it was Mr. Wolfe coming to say hello before the big show.

But when door opened, Marcus stepped in. Not quite as exciting, maybe, but he wasn’t a bad second choice. I rose to my feet when I saw his reflection and ran over to give him a huge hug, nearly crushing the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

“You’re supposed to bring flowers to stuff like this, right?” he asked, laughing. “I don’t do opening nights.”

“Yes,” I said, pulling away and eyeing the massive, colorful bouquet of gerbera daisies. “Oh, wow, they’re amazing. Thank you, roomie. I’ll have to find a vase for them.” I peered around the room, searching for some kind of container.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m so happy for you, you know. In a lot of ways.” The way he said the words, I knew he was talking about more than just what was going on at the theater tonight.

“Me too,” I said. “Things are starting to look up.”

“They are. Though I have to admit, I’m going to miss living with you.”

I twisted around to look into his eyes. “Living with me? Wait—what? Are you evicting me or something?”

“No—I just assumed you’d be moving in with Tristan—”

“Whoa there, big fella,” I chuckled. “It’s a little soon for that, don’t you think?”

Marcus laid the flowers down on the table and leaned against a stray chair. “Ari, he’s a wolf shifter,” he said quietly enough that no one would hear. “If it were up to him, you’d be living together already. They don’t wait for their mates. They just know. I’ve seen it a thousand times.”

“Even if that’s the case, I’m a human woman, and I need to wait, at least a little,” I said. “I don’t want to ruin things by rushing our relationship. We’ve only known each other for a matter of days, really.”

“Well, then,” Marcus said, his face lighting up. “I’ll look forward to a little more time with you. Wolfe will want me to keep a close eye on you, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, he probably will. Are you okay with that?”

Marcus nodded. “Fine. Maybe eventually I can earn his full trust. Now that I’ve burned my bridges with Craster, I could use Tristan’s help.”

“Oh, God,” I said. “Right, yeah. You must be out of a job, right? All because of me.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugged. “I didn’t like the gig much anyhow, as you know. Craster is a grade-A tool.”

“I’ll talk to Tristan—I’m sure he’d hire you to do something in his mysterious business. He said he’d help.”

“I’m sure he would,” said Marcus, “but to be honest, that’s not my primary concern. Thing is, I don’t want to be a Lesser all my life.”

“You won’t be, I promise. Not if I can help it,” I said before giving him another hug. “Now, go find your seat in the audience. I’ll see you after, and I promise I’ll talk to Tristan tonight about you.”

When he’d left and shut the door behind him, I sat down again, giddy with excitement. I was looking forward to seeing the play in its full glory.

But more than that, I was looking forward to spending the night with Tristan afterwards.

Tonight, by all indications, was the night when we’d finally be together with no interruptions, no catastrophes. I was freshly waxed and ready to go. I’d even worn a pair of tiny silk panties under my dress, not to mention my favorite strapless bra. I’d be all too delighted later if Tristan ripped them off with his teeth.

As I stared into space, fantasizing about the aphrodisiac that was his mouth giving me a good dose of heaven, another knock sounded at the door.

“Couldn’t get enough of your housemate, huh?” I shouted, rising to my feet. It had to be Marcus again. He’d probably left something behind by accident.

As I moved towards the door and moved to open it, my eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out if his wallet was sitting on a table top.

So I didn’t immediately notice that the person standing on the other side of the door wasn’t my friend.

He was my worst enemy.