CHAPTER 10
CHLOE
Shit. Shit-fuck-shit. He knows why I’m here?
Chloe was so shocked by Harper’s revelation that it took her a moment to understand the implications of what he had just said. When she did, it felt like someone had thumped her in the stomach.
She was a hostage.
If it wasn’t for Mathis’ arms around her, she would have collapsed. This wasn’t meant to happen. She was meant to get some incriminating pics, fake sudden illness, and get shipped back to the mainland to work on her exposé from the comfort of her office-slash-bed.
Not discover a secret society of people who could turn into animals. Not have her world be turned upside down by a man whose lion shone through in his addictive smile.
Not be fucking kidnapped, and almost murdered by a fucking polar bear.
“Shit,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry,” Mathis breathed in her ear. “I’m going to get us out of this.”
Chloe wished she could believe him. Mathis seemed like a sweet guy, but he was as helpless here as she was. She gulped. Sure, he could turn into a lion—but was that really an advantage on an island where everyone else could transform into some huge animal, too?
Her mind was tripping over itself. Lions. Bears. Was there a tiger here somewhere, too?
Shit. A hostage? This is really happening? What am I going to do now?
She barely registered the sound of a door opening behind her. Only when Mathis tugged at her arm did she realize they were being escorted out.
I’ve got to figure out a way to get out of here. But her mind was fuzzy with shock. The restless, reckless energy that usually kept her going was weak, as though it was hiding deep inside her.
Mathis was holding her around the waist, and right now, he felt like the only solid thing in the world. She leaned her cheek against him, and it came away sticky.
Every muscle in her back clenched. She didn’t need to wipe her face to know what it was. She could smell it. Blood.
Mathis’ blood. From his fight. And he’d have to fight more, now, with her as collateral.
She had to get out of here. Had to get them both out of here. She just needed time to get her head straight—figure out what options she had…
Kidnapped. On an island. With a bunch of were…. Were-everythings.
And my phone isn’t working.
Shit.
Whatever her options were, there weren’t many of them. In fact, she couldn’t think of any.
“Ah. Ms. Kent.”
Chloe jumped as Gerald Harper seemed to dissolve out of the shadows. Mathis was in front of her at once, shielding her with his body.
Gerald tutted. “Now now, Mr. Dell. Don’t be so rude. I was only going to invite your lovely mate to dinner. And yourself as well, of course.”
Chloe found her voice. “We’re not interested,” she said, as evenly as she could manage. She needed to talk to Mathis alone. She wasn’t sure whether he’d understood Harper’s sly remark about her—but she needed to come clean with him all the same. She couldn’t lie to him, especially not in these circumstances.
She felt sick. Especially not if Harper was expecting Mathis to fight for her safety. He deserved to know who he was fighting for.
Harper was still talking. “I’m afraid you’ll be joining me regardless, Ms. Kent. Hostages don’t get many options when it comes to meal arrangements. I’m sure you understand.”
Harper was smiling benignly. He made a beckoning motion and walked off. For a split second, Chloe thought he was leaving them to their own devices—but of course he wasn’t.
Mathis took her arm as the polar bear shifter loomed forward from where he had been standing behind Harper. The scarred man jerked his head towards Harper, and motioned for them to follow him.
Chloe glued herself to Mathis as they walked down the corridor, keeping so close she almost tripped over his feet.
“It’s going to be all right,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
She wished she could believe him.
***
Harper’s mood improved even more when they reached the dining room. It was as gaudy as the rest of the residence, the far wall a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window that cast sickly patches of color onto the gold-and-marble finishings.
Julian was waiting for them, standing in front of the garish window. His face set in grim resignation as he saw Chloe and Mathis follow his boss in.
“Mr. Harper—” he began, and Harper cut him off with an impatient wave.
“No need to congratulate me, Julian. Thank yourself for being proof of concept.”
Julian’s expression went completely blank. Chloe glared at him, but she didn’t have enough space in her mind to wonder what the hell his problem was. She had enough of her own.
Harper corralled her as she tried to sit down next to Mathis. “Uh-uh, Ms. Kent,” he chided her, smiling happily. “Come, sit next to me.”
Chloe’s skin crawled as she took the seat next to Harper at the head of the table. Then she looked across at Mathis and her heart twisted.
He was trying to hide it, but the fight with the polar bear had been hard on him. Chloe winced in sympathy, watching the careful way he steadied himself with one hand on the table as he lowered himself onto the seat.
She wanted to reach out to him, support him and show him how grateful she was for his protection. More than that, she wanted to make sure he wasn’t quietly bleeding to death on the other side of the table.
Her throat closed over. He healed quickly, she’d seen that last night—but the fight with the polar bear had been so vicious. What if he was more wounded than he was letting on?
“Mr. Harper,” she said, as politely as she could manage. “Do you think Mathis and I could be excused for a few minutes? He needs some first aid, and—”
“Certainly not,” said Harper promptly.
“But I—”
“Now, now, Ms. Kent. Look around! What an opportunity we all have now, to really get to know each other.” He snapped his fingers and the doors opened, letting in a stream of stony-faced waitstaff. “Such as you, Ms. Kent. I am very interested to find out more about you. And I’m sure Matty here is, too.”
Chloe’s terror must have been clear on her face, because Harper laughed gleefully. “What an exciting day this is turning out to be for all of us. And now some drinks, I think. Julian?”
As Harper looked away, Mathis stretched out his hand across the table. Chloe took it without thinking.
“It’s all right,” Mathis told her, his eyes locked on to hers. “I’m going to get this sorted out.”
How? Chloe didn’t dare to say it aloud, but doubt must have been clear on her face. Mathis squeezed her hand. She tried not to notice the drying blood that flaked off onto the table.
Julian returned to the table with a bucket of champagne and glasses. He poured, and Harper raised his glass, beaming.
“A toast,” he declared, and then paused. “Pick up your glasses. Please.”
His eyes landed on Chloe and Mathis’ hands, clasped across the table. Chloe fought a sudden urge to pull her hand away and hide it behind her back.
She picked up her flute with her other hand, fingers trembling. Mathis did the same.
Harper sniffed. “How romantic. A toast, then—to the ties that bind us all together.”
Mathis met Chloe’s eyes as he raised his own glass. “To new connections.”
Chloe mumbled something, incoherent even to herself, and took a too-large mouthful of champagne. She blinked furiously as the bubbles made her eyes water, almost missing Mathis turn towards Harper.
“All right, Gerald,” Mathis said calmly, and it took Chloe another second to remember that Harper’s first name was Gerald. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but Chloe and I are going to leave. Now.”
Harper sat back, his eyes glittering. He took another sip of champagne, and Chloe’s skin crawled. Excitement seemed to simmer under Harper’s skin like the bubbles fizzing from their glasses.
“Is that so?” he said at last.
“Yeah.” Mathis squeezed Chloe’s hand and she looked back at him. He mouthed something: she thought he was saying, I’m sorry.
Chloe frowned. What did he have to be sorry about? If he had some way of getting them out of here, she would forgive him anything.