CHAPTER 11
MATHIS
Mathis smiled reassuringly at Chloe, squeezing her fingers. When he turned his eyes back on Harper, he let his face settle into barely disguised disgust. Why bother hiding it now?
“You,” Mathis growled. How could he ever have thought Harper’s face was friendly and open? It was all a mask, hiding his rotten soul. “You’ve made a huge mistake, Gerald Harper.”
“Really? From where I’m standing, everything seems to be going perfectly.” Harper’s smile became even brighter.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
This time, Harper laughed out loud. “What? Some drifter who gets his face bashed in on a nightly basis for a bit of under-the-table cash?”
Mathis gritted his teeth. He’d lived this lie for months—but it had outlived its usefulness. He’d have to explain to Chloe later. “I’m no drifter. And my name isn’t Matt Dell. It’s Mathis Delacourt. My pride owns half of New York City—”
“Sure you are, Matty.” Harper’s voice was condescending, but his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Ask Grayson Masters.” It was all Mathis could do not to stand up and shake Harper until his teeth rattled. He took a deep breath. “My father was good friends with his brother, the old alpha of the Masters pride. If I can just talk to Grayson—”
“Grayson isn’t here.” Harper’s voice was clipped. “He left earlier this morning on unexpected business. Probably more trouble with his nephew. Or...” He chuckled. “Who knows, maybe he did recognize you.”
Mathis stomach felt hollow. He can’t mean…? He shook himself. He’s just trying to unnerve you. Like in a fight—if he ever fought his own, instead of paying others to do it for his entertainment. He’s lying. No lion would abandon another like that.
But if Grayson isn’t here to vouch for me…
“Call my pride,” he said confidently. “Any one of them will confirm my identity.”
Harper’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Mathis… Delacourt,” he murmured, barely audible. He rolled the name around in his mouth, like a piece of unwanted gristle. “Ah.”
Mathis took a deep breath and squeezed Chloe’s fingers. Now he gets it.
“Tell you what,” Mathis said, grinning through the itch of blood drying on his face, “You throw me the keys to your boat and we’ll say no more about it. How does that sound?”
Chloe was squeezing his hand so hard her knuckles were turning white. Mathis brushed his thumb over them, and Chloe winced apologetically.
It’s all right, Mathis wanted to say, but he wouldn’t say it out loud, not in front of Harper. We’ll get off this ridiculous island, and Harper will see what happens to shifters who prey on each other like this.
Harper tutted quietly.
“That’s a generous offer, Mr.… Delacourt,” Harper said, drawing out Mathis’ surname. “But I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”
“What?”
Mathis couldn’t believe his ears. He stood up, sending his chair clattering across the hardwood floor.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chloe pull her hand back, but his full attention was on Harper. The man sat back in his chair, regarding Mathis with a look of amused tolerance.
“I believe I was quite clear, Mr. Delacourt. If that is who you are. Your offer is appreciated, but not required. I am quite happy to continue according to our previous plans.” His lips thinned in a smile that revealed only a sliver of grey-white teeth.
“You’re joking.” Mathis resisted the urge to shout out the cliché he’d always hated so much: Don’t you know who I am? “My pride—”
“—Don’t appear to realize you have even gone missing, let alone show any signs of wanting to find you,” Harper continued smoothly. “Private as you lions tend to be, I’m sure I would have heard if an American pride had lost its golden boy. Would I be right in assuming you have, in fact, misled them about your activities the last few months, while you’ve been play-acting as Matt Dell? No need to answer—I can tell from the look on your face that I’ve hit the mark.” He took another leisurely sip of champagne. “Really, what with the false identities and lying to your so-called loved ones, you and Ms. Kent are made for one another.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Mathis regretted them. Chloe’s sharp intake of breath cut into him.
Harper chuckled. “Are you sure you’re a Delacourt, Matty? No wonder your pride isn’t bothered about bringing you back into the fold, if you’re too blind to see the parasite you’ll bring with you.”
Mathis squared his shoulders. Protective rage was boiling through him, fizzing in his veins. “How dare you speak about her like that?”
“I’m only trying to open your eyes to the truth, Matty,” Harper sneered. “You may think I’m a monster—but how long did it take you to spill our people’s secrets to a human journalist?”
Mathis’ heart constricted. He spun around to Chloe, ready to urge her to tell Harper he’d got it wrong, but the words died on his lips.
Chloe had gone so pale he worried she was about to faint. She opened her mouth and licked her lips, but couldn’t speak. Her hand trembled so much her champagne flute chinked against the table.
She didn’t meet his eye. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone,” she whispered through white lips.
“Of course not,” Harper sneered. His lips peeled back from his teeth. “You were just going to keep it to yourself, weren’t you? Your little secret. Well, it’ll damned well stay a secret now.”
Mathis’ heart sank. Deep inside him, his lion growled, disbelieving. His mate would never betray him. Chloe couldn’t have lied to him.
But she seemed very keen to leave the island as soon as you told her about shifters, a treacherous voice inside him said. His lion hissed at it.
Mathis stared at Chloe, willing her to look at him, to tell him Harper was lying. But she wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Aha,” said Harper happily as the doors behind them opened again, “Dinner is served. Be seated, please, Mr. Delacourt.”
Mathis retrieved his chair from across the room and sat down heavily. His lion roared at him to fight back, that he should be ashamed of himself for capitulating so easily to Gerald Harper’s demands—but his human mind was too dazed to think of fighting back.
Chloe lied to me.
His mind skittered back over every moment they’d spent together. Somehow, he was surprised to realize just how little time that was. He’d seen her in the viewing window—and had fallen head over heels, so hard he hadn’t even questioned why she was trying to find a Wi-Fi signal so far away from the inhabited parts of the island.
Now he knew. She’d been trying to get the news out about shifters.
It was like taking a blow straight to the chest. Everything hurt, and his heart most of all.
His mouth went dry. This isn’t how it’s meant to be. Everyone knew that. When you found your mate, everything fell into place. Like it had last night, when everything seemed so simple.
Still not wanting to believe that what Harper was saying was true, he reached out to Chloe telepathically. He hadn’t expected her to feel it, let alone respond—but her sudden flinch sent knives into his heart.
You should have known something would go wrong. The thought scraped at his insides, leaving him hollow. His skin itched as a hundred small wounds healed. He closed his eyes and waited for the hollow space inside him to crack open again. You should have known it wouldn’t last. Nothing lasts.
For a moment, blackness overtook him. He was empty and hollow, and there was a gaping hole inside him where his lion should be.
Mathis fell into the void, scrambling at emptiness. There was nothing. No warm animal self, no answering roar to his silent cry for help.
Pain shafted through him, pulling him back into the world. Mathis opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Chloe staring across the table at him, her eyes wide.
His arm hurt. He glanced sideways in time to see Julian pull his hand away from his wrist, sharp claws shimmering out of existence.
Julian reached out again a moment later, depositing cutlery in perfect alignment around Mathis’ place setting. There was nothing but the sting in Mathis’ wrist to suggest anything had happened.
And the empty space inside him, waiting for him to fall again.
Across the table, Chloe swallowed. Mathis watched her warily and tensed as she cleared her throat.
Chloe seemed to share his caution. Mathis saw her mouth work as she searched for words.
“Mr. Harper,” she said at last, her voice shaking. “Thank you for having us for dinner, but how long is this going to take? Mathis doesn’t look good.” She swallowed again. “I’m sure you don’t want him to keel over in the middle of the first course…”
“Oh, there’s no danger of that, Ms. Kent. He may look a little under the weather now, but a good square meal will take care of that.” Harper gestured with his fork, outlining Mathis’ body. “Look at—look at him, Ms. Kent. I insist.”
Mathis stared at Chloe. Her eyes were locked on the table between them.
Of course she doesn’t want to look at me, he thought, feeling sick. I’m just a story to her. She wanted to find out our secrets, and leave—not stick around to deal with the consequences.
“Ms. Kent.” Harper’s voice was venomous.
Slowly, Chloe’s gaze rose from the table. Under Harper’s acid commands, she looked across at Mathis.
Her anguish struck him harder than any of the polar bear’s blows.
“Now, pay attention, my dear. After all, you’re still planning to escape, aren’t you? You’ll want to be specific when you report on our secrets, won’t you.”
“I…” Chloe’s voice broke off and her eyes slid sideways, as though she couldn’t bear to look at him. Mathis’ insides twisted. Chloe’s lips were tight, twisted down at the corners in what looked like disgust.
“Look at him, Ms. Kent. After all, he can’t stop looking at you. Do you know why that is?”
Harper’s voice hissed in Mathis’ ear.
“Is this really necessary, Harper?” Mathis clenched his fists, fighting back an urge to shout at the other man to shut up.
Harper raised his eyebrows. “Of course! I want to make sure we’re all on the same page, Matty. Just trying to help out. After all, if Ms. Kent here is going to be your good-behavior guarantee, she deserves to know why, doesn’t she? What do you think, Ms. Kent?”
Mathis’ mouth went dry. Chloe wouldn’t meet his eyes; she looked at the table, and then stared at Harper, her eyes hard.
“Tell me,” she said quietly, her lips a thin, tense line.
“Chloe, I—”
“Now now, Matty, she didn’t ask you.” Harper grinned toothily. “If you wanted to spill the beans, you had plenty of time last night.” He sat back, carefully replacing his fork on the table. His grin turned Mathis’ stomach.
“You and Matty here made a very special connection last night, didn’t you, Ms. Kent? More special than you realized, I’m afraid. What were you after? A bit of rough? An exclusive scoop?”
Chloe didn’t reply. Mathis’ stomach turned.
Harper laughed. “Well, you’ve got more than that! Look at him: the hopeless expression, that hang-dog look in his eyes—he’s in love.”
Mathis’ heart twisted. “How dare you—”
Harper raised one hand, and the polar bear shifter stepped closer to Chloe. Mathis shut his mouth, trembling with rage.
“You’re right, Matty, that’s not really accurate, is it? Love. Hah! Congratulations, Ms. Kent. You’re Mathis Delacourt’s mate. He would do anything for you—he can’t help it. Fight for you. Die for you.” Harper’s eyes glinted. “Even now that he knows who you really are.”
All the color drained out of Chloe’s face. She stared across at Mathis.
“Is—is this true?”
Mathis looked away.
It was true. Everything Harper said was true.
Mathis would do anything for Chloe. He couldn’t let her be hurt; it would destroy him more than any physical fight ever could. It would tear his soul apart.
Even if she had always meant to betray him.
“Aha,” said Harper cheerily as the doors opened again. “Here’s the food. I hope you’re both hungry!”