CHAPTER 12
CHLOE
The door shut behind them. It didn’t slam, or rattle in its hinges—just swung closed and clicked with quiet finality, shutting them both in Mathis’ bedroom.
Chloe’s breath hitched in her throat. She rubbed her face, not sure whether the empty quaking sensation inside her was going to turn into sobs or terrified laughter.
She could feel Mathis beside her, and then a cold feeling of absence as he moved away to the other side of the room.
He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t spoken to her since Harper told her she was his mate. And everything else.
Chloe gulped. Her mind was rattling like gravel in a tin can, crashing over and over the conversation from the dinner table.
Mathis had lied to her. She’d been right about that. Just not the extent of it.
And now he knew she’d lied, as well.
Shit.
She ran her fingers through her hair, shoulder muscles twanging. If they’d both lied—maybe that put them on an even footing.
Yeah, and I bet the stupidly rich guy who can turn into an apex predator will see it that way, too.
Chloe winced. The little voice inside her head could be an asshole, but this time, she had a sinking suspicion it was right.
She lowered her hands. Mathis was standing across the room, silhouetted against the window. He had his hands on the windowsill, his forehead resting wearily against the glass. He wasn’t looking at her. He hadn’t looked at her since they were finally allowed to leave the dining room.
Yeah, I really don’t see this working out.
Chloe was surprised by the hollow ache that opened up inside her at the thought. Of all the terrifying things that had happened to her in the last few hours, this was the one that made her heart hurt? Not the fact that she was probably going to die out here, but the possibility that her one-night stand might not like her?
She must be in shock, because that was just ridiculous.
It was all ridiculous.
“So, what’s the deal here, then?” she blurted out, nerves making her voice gritty and unpleasant. “Harper says all that shit to make us turn on each other, and still wants to use me as bait to keep you on good behavior? How good a hostage am I going to be if you hate my guts?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Mathis’ voice was flat. Empty.
“What doesn’t matter?” Chloe shot back before his emotionless tones could make her heart twist any more.
“Whether I actually like you, or not. Harper knows that. I would die for you, even if I hated you.” Mathis raised his head, staring out into the afternoon sunlight. “Keeping us together will ensure that.” He snorted. “Maybe you can add that to your tell-all.”
“My what?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here? To do research on shifters, so you can reveal our secrets to the rest of the world?” His shoulders tightened. “That’s why you were looking for phone signal last night, wasn’t it? You were trying to report back. You must have thought you hit the jackpot when I turned up.”
Chloe’s stomach twisted. “Well, I’m a pretty shitty journalist if so, right? Looks like I targeted the one guy with enough money to make anything I tried to publish disappear!”
She clenched her fists and slammed one back into the wall, so angry she could hardly think straight. Angry and afraid. Either way, her blood was boiling.
“And so what if I was trying to get a message out? Maybe if more people knew about what was going on here, we both wouldn’t be the prisoners of some psycho on his fucking death island!” She flung one arm out. “And what about all the other staff who were brought in to watch that bear guy rip me to pieces? You think they knew what they were getting into? And all the guests who come here to see people fight—what is wrong with you people?”
“We’re not all like Harper.” Mathis half-turned, but his profile was silhouetted by the fading light outside. “Most shifters are normal people, just trying to get on with their lives. You can’t judge us all based on—”
“Based on what? Based on one bad apple? Because there were at least twenty bad apples watching you beat on that wolf guy last night—and scaring the shit out of Thandie when she was on duty.” Another wave of rage poured through Chloe. “I talked to her this morning, by the way. She thought Harper and his guests had killed me. She was terrified.”
And so am I! she wanted to scream. She gulped in breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. When she opened her mouth again, she couldn’t keep her voice from wobbling.
“Last night, when you told me about shifters… I thought it sounded magical. But it’s not, is it? It’s a nightmare.” And I can’t wake up.
And I can’t stop hurting, every minute you don’t look at me.
Mathis stood like a statue at the window and she watched, transfixed, as a purple-grey bruise on his shoulder blade faded before her eyes. Last night, when she watched Mathis’ scratches heal, it had been like watching a miracle. But this just made her feel ill. She couldn’t forget how he’d got the wounds.
How many more will he get, while Harper uses me as bait? she thought, and swallowed hard.
Mathis looked up. For half a heartbeat, he looked lost—and then his eyes shuttered, locking away whatever it was he was feeling.
Chloe wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. For a moment, she’d felt so ill she thought she would throw up. But she could control it. She had to.
Just like she had to control this sad, pathetic crush on a man who clearly wanted nothing more to do with her, mate-bond or not.
“So what happens now?” she said weakly, all her rage burnt out.
“We escape.”
Chloe turned her sob into a snort. “That easy, is it?”
“I’m not going to let Harper keep you here. The longer we spend together, the stronger the mate bond will become. And from where I’m standing, it sounds like that would be playing right into his hands.”
There was steel in Mathis’ voice, but it was tempered with resignation. His shoulders slumped, then he seemed to pull himself together. He glanced out the window.
“How long do you think we have until it’s dark?”
Chloe leaned back against the wall. “A few hours, maybe. Twilight lingers on a bit here. It was—” She gulped, and hurried on, “It didn’t get properly dark until quite late last night, remember.”
“Yes.” Mathis hesitated. Chloe wished he could see his face, but he had turned away again. “How much sneaking around the island did you do before I got here?”
Chloe pushed down an angry response. “Not a lot. But some.”
She looked past Mathis, out the window. How long until it gets dark…?
Her mind caught onto that thought and followed it out of the rattling tin-can of terror she’d been trapped in. Mathis opened his mouth but she got in first, her voice low.
“There aren’t any security guards, that’s the first thing I noticed. There are floodlights and everything along the paths, but apart from that the whole island basically shuts down overnight.” She brought up a picture of the schedule Nora had made them memorize in her mind, and ticked off each point on her fingers. “The final cleaning shift ends at one. Gardening crew gets up at four to make sure the paths and pools are clear before sunrise, before any guests get up. Kitchens at five.” She bit her lip. “At least, according to our training. We’ve only had one night live, and I was… well. I wasn’t there for most of it.”
Mathis’ gaze was like a flash-fire, leaving her breathless in the split second he looked at her. Then he turned away, again, his fists clenched at his sides.
“That gives us a window of a few hours, at least,” he muttered.
He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and this time, his gaze didn’t scald her. Mathis’ pale gold eyes were intense, but the expression in them was grim determination.
“I swear I will get you off this island, Chloe. Tonight.”
Looking into his eyes, Chloe couldn’t help but believe him. He outlined his plan, and slowly she pulled herself away from the edge of panic.
They could do this. Escape. Get off this nightmare island. And after that…
Chloe waited until Mathis was in the shower to squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth. After that—God knows what would happen after that.
Mathis had said that the more time they spent together, the stronger the mate bond would become. Maybe that meant if they escaped tonight, and separated, it would—weaken? Dissolve?
Maybe she could leave all of this behind her, not just the island. Lock the door and throw away the key on this particular experience. Forget Mathis. Never see him again.
Maybe she could even convince herself that was what she wanted.