“Well now. Aren’t you two simply the cutest!”

I lifted my head, my attention landing on the woman standing behind the counter. Clad in a bright blue t-shirt trimmed with yellow, she stood next to a register with a beaming grin and a nametag that read Stacy. Surely she had to be talking about someone else. But her gaze locked with mine, reaffirming that she’d spoken to me.

Jerrik stood next to me, his hands tucked in his pockets. With a half-cocked grin, he shot me a wink, then rocked back onto his heels and stared up at the menu.

“Did you just get married?” Stacy asked in a squeaky voice.

Did we just…? I shot her a glance, wondering if I was allowed to respond sarcastically to such a stupid question. Jerrik wore faded jeans and his brown leather jacket. What groom wore that for his wedding? But my mother had always been a firm believer in manners. Amalie Saint-George would have slapped the smirk off my face had she been alive to see it.

“Uh, no,” I said as I stepped up to the counter. “He’s my…” Shit, I had no idea how to explain this.

“Chauffeur,” Jerrik suggested. “Gotta get this beautiful blushing bride to the church, don’t I? But you know how it is.” He leaned against the counter and tossed Stacy a saucy wink. “When the bride says she’s hungry, it’s best to pull over and get her something to eat, you know? Especially on her wedding day. Security policy, so she doesn’t eat me.”

Stacy laughed, color flushing her cheeks as Jerrik held her attention.

Oddly enough, his story held some truth. After ducking through the woods, I’d suggested we stop for a bite to eat. My last meal had been last night’s cock-cake, which definitely wasn’t cutting it after our rather amorous evening, and I couldn’t think on an empty stomach.

“What can I get for you, then?” Stacy’s gaze cut to mine for a brief second before darting back to Jerrik.

I almost laughed. Here I stood, decked out in a beautiful gown and my face polished until it shone, but her eyes were all for him. I wasn’t complaining, though. He was purposely keeping the attention off me. The last thing we needed was for someone to recognize me.

“Why don’t you surprise me, sweetheart,” Jerrik said in a seductive voice.

Stacy simpered and dropped her attention to the register. She punched in a few codes and rang up two different meals. Extra fries and ice cream on the side, of course.

My mouth quirked, though I felt bad for the human…a little. The way she preened for him—tucking her hair back and moistening her lips. As though she believed she stood a chance in hell with someone like him.

He dropped a few bills onto the counter and took the tray from her with a flirtatious grin. I grabbed a table in the back and gestured toward it. When we sat, the grin slipped from his face and he cast another vigilant glance around the restaurant. For a Saturday, it seemed quiet. A few elderly couples sat in their booths, nursing their cups of coffee while talking about the good ol’ days. No one paid us any mind.

“We need to find you some clothes,” Jerrik commented as he surveyed the restaurant.

“Hmm.” I grabbed a fry and popped it into my mouth. “And here I thought you liked my dress.”

His stare cut to me, gold rolling over his eyes. “Darlin’, I would tear that thing off you in a heartbeat if I could. But it might scandalize the civilians.”

“And poor Stacy,” I teased.

He groaned and leaned back in his seat, one arm slung over the booth. I couldn’t help but appreciate the view. His leather jacket slipped open, revealing a snug black t-shirt, clearly the brother to the white one he’d worn last night. But it didn’t matter what he wore, I knew what lay beneath. The peaks and valleys, the hard definition of his lickable abs, the swell of his arms as he moved above me…oh yes, I knew them well.

On the upside, at least I hadn’t married Benjamin today. And knowing what I now knew, I no longer felt the slightest bit of guilt for sleeping with Jerrik.

I lifted what looked like a chicken wrap and downed it in three bites.

Jerrik watched in amusement, his brow lifted. “Guess you weren’t lying when you said you were hungry.”

“Starved, actually,” I said after swallowing. “Chocolate cake doesn’t go very far.”

Desire lit up his eyes. “Did for me.”

The strangeness of this moment wasn’t lost on me. This morning before leaving Jerrik’s house, I might have given anything for this moment. But I’d never imagined it while on the lam from my own fiancé.

“All right,” I murmured. “Out with it.”

The gold dimmed in his eyes. “Out with what?”

“Everything.”

“Reagan, I’ve told you everything.”

No, he hadn’t. Not by a long shot. I still had so many questions.

He pulled in his arm and leaned against the table. “Is this really the right time?”

I gestured toward our surroundings. “As good a time as any, wouldn’t you agree? No one’s recognized us. Stacy is too busy imagining her own wedding, so long as you’re the groom—”

He grimaced.

“—and I’m fed. Which means, I’m ready for the full truth.”

“Reagan.”

I leaned closer and dropped my voice. “Look. I know you didn’t tell me everything. I’m not some wilting little flower that you need to protect. So, how about you drop the over-protective act and speak to me, alpha to alpha.”

He sighed, then sat back and raked a hand through his hair. After a moment’s silence, he met my gaze. “It’s not an act, you know.”

“What’s not?”

He waved between us. “This. And I know you’re not a wilting flower. Hell, Gabriel raised you. From what I know about him, I’m guessing you could drop everyone in this restaurant without breaking a sweat, me being the exception.”

“I don’t know, I dropped you hard last night,” I said, hoping to inspire a little levity. He wasn’t the only one who could tease.

Astonishment widened his eyes.

I grinned, then reached for another fry. “So, if this isn’t an act, then what is it?”

“It’s who I am,” he said. “I’m old. And very much set in my ways. And—”

“How old?”

He froze, his tirade dying on his lips.

“Don’t tell me you can’t even answer that simple question.”

“It’s not so simple,” he countered.

“Actually, it is. See, if someone asked me how old I was, I would respond with a hundred and two.” I gestured toward him. “Your turn.”

“I don’t remember the exact year,” he commented.

I raised my brows. Who didn’t remember the year they were born?

“But if I had to guess, I’d say a thousand and some change.”

This time, I froze, a fry dangling halfway to my mouth. A thousand and some change? I stared at him, too stunned to formulate a response. And here I’d thought my father was old.

My father had insisted my mother homeschool me, so I knew all about our history. I knew that the pack had emigrated from Europe in the early fifteen hundreds. If what Jerrik had said was true, he would have already been old at that point.

“Wow,” I whispered, completely unsure of what else to say. His earlier words about my father echoed in my head. It all made sense now. “You said you and Gabriel had met before. That he challenged you.”

“And lost,” Jerrik filled in. “But that was a long, long time ago. After he led the pack here.”

I held up a hand. “Wait, after he led the pack here? You’re saying you were here first?”

His head bobbed.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. “How long have you been in America?”

“A long time,” was all he said.

“Yeah, but how long? When did you first come here?”

His jaw tightened and he turned away as a darkness rippled across his face. “Shouldn’t we focus on the problem at hand?”

Right. The problem at hand. My fiancé wanted me dead. A pretty big problem. But damn. Hard to focus on something like that when the man sitting before me was literally a part of North American history. Had lived and breathed it. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but something else came to mind. Pieces of stories my father had told me throughout my life.

I cocked my head as I recalled them. I’d never given the stories much consideration—I’d always believed they were nothing more than tales my father had concocted to amuse his daughter. But he’d always warned me about the shadow wolf, as he’d called him. The wolf older than time itself, who had refused to join the pack, who had chosen isolation…

Who hated his own kind and killed them for profit. An assassin.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, my lungs deflating. “You’re him.”

Gabriel had never spoken that wolf’s name before. But I knew it now, didn’t I? Jerrik, the shadow wolf. What did I know about him? So much. Too much.

“What? Who?”

“Oh, my God,” I repeated. I ran a hand down my face, my heart squeezing into a painful knot. Maybe I was naïve, and a bit of a fool, but I could put the puzzle together once I had all the pieces. And every last one of them sat before me. Even the illusive center.

“Reagan.” Jerrik reached across the table.

I wrenched my hand back before we made contact. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed.

He blinked, startled by my sudden reaction.

My thoughts strayed to the dagger strapped to my thigh. If not for this stupid dress, I might have been able to reach it. But that would require fishing beneath yards of fabric. Not exactly discreet.

“Listen to me—”

My laughter cut him off. “Listen to you? An assassin?”

He froze, then released a long breath as he leaned back in the booth.

Yeah, that’s right. I figured you out. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I’m done. Hear me?” I cursed under my breath. “How much of this was even true? Was this all part of your plan? Get me alone, seduce me, tell me my fiancé wanted me dead… Then what? What’s your end goal here? God, I’m so stupid!”

“Reagan…”

Bitter laughter slipped past my lips. “My father told me about you. Told me about the Viking wolf turned mercenary. The assassin. So, that’s all this was to you? A game?”

“Listen to me. I’m not playing around here. Benjamin wants you dead.”

“Yeah, and he paid you to do it.”

Jerrik fell silent, his mouth parted in shock, as though he hadn’t expected me to put it all together. A math expert I was not, but I knew two plus two equaled four.

“That’s why you were at the club last night. Scoping me out? Planning your move? Then you thought, hey, maybe I can score a quick piece of ass before killing her?”

“That’s not—”

“Save it,” I growled. I scoffed under my breath and surged to my feet, which took effort thanks to the friggin’ dress. “I can’t believe I fell for it. You know, last night I wondered why you’d be interested in me. If it was some bet. But I’d never imagined this.”

He stood and shot a glance around the restaurant. “If I wanted you dead, don’t you think I would have done it by now? Yes, Benjamin hired me, but I decided not to follow through with the contract.”

“Oh, how magnanimous of you,” I snapped.

“Would you stop? Listen to me. You’re in danger, I can protect you—”

“That’s not the way I see it. I’m heading back to the church to find my father, like I initially wanted.”

Jerrik stepped in front of me. “It isn’t safe out there, and you aren’t armed right now.”

So angry with myself, with Jerrik, and with the world, I scooped up the hem of my dress, lifted it up to my hips and extracted the blade. Before my skirt even hit the ground, I had it pressed against his side, hidden from everyone else’s sights.

This close to him, my body hummed with awareness. I shoved those feelings down deep and met his stare. “I don’t go anywhere unarmed. Trust me when I say this is silver and will drop you.”

A hint of a smile curved the corners of his mouth. “A woman after my own heart. Damn, I would have loved to have met you when I was human. You would have made a wonderful Viking.”

His words struck a chord within me. The majority of us were born werewolves. Only a few were ever bitten and changed. Jerrik’s words…had someone bitten him? But before my curiosity distracted me, I shoved that thought aside and pushed the tip of my blade into his jacket, cutting through the beautiful material. “I’m going to walk out the door, and you’re going to let me.”

Jerrik lifted a dark brow. “Am I now? You know who I am, so why not just kill me?”

“Goodbye, Jerrik.”

I removed the knife from his side and hid it in the folds of my dress. Wouldn’t do to upset the locals. I braved a step back, unsurprised when Jerrik followed me. “I’m leaving.”

“What a coincidence, so am I.”

“Without you,” I said through gritted teeth.

He clasped his hands together behind his back and matched my second step. “Sorry. But no.”

Annoyance knotted my brow. He moved with a fluidness that contradicted his watchful eye. I cursed under my breath and repositioned my grip around the dagger’s hilt. I really didn’t want to attack him in public, but if he forced my hand, at least I had good reason.

“What’s the matter?” he taunted. “Thought you were ready to drop me?”

He knew I wouldn’t unless he pushed me too far. Generally speaking, stabbing someone in front of witnesses never ended well.

“Stop following me.”

“Can’t,” he said with a shrug. “I promised myself I’d protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection,” I snapped. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

I backed into the door, my heel catching on the edge of my dress, and stumbled. First chance I got, I’d burn this blasted thing. I never wanted to lay eyes on it again.

“Watch your step,” Jerrik called to me, his blue eyes shining with amusement.

Bastard. Of course he’d find this funny.

“Might help if you look where you’re going.”

I staggered out into the parking lot. Things were about to become complicated. I couldn’t keep watching him while walking, but I didn’t want him following me either. And much like the idiot I’d already proven myself to be, I’d left my cellphone and wallet back at the church.

See, that’s what happens when you follow a stranger out a window…

“Reagan, this is silly,” Jerrik commented once we stood in the parking lot. “Obviously, I’m not going to hurt you. But you’re going to get hurt if you keep walking around like this. People can see us, you know. And you’re not exactly blending in.”

“So, leave,” I snapped. “Let me go back to the church.”

“I thought you were this big bad warrior?” He canted his head, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. “You want me to leave? Make me.”

I didn’t quite know how to respond to that. A part of me wanted to attack, but the disadvantages were overwhelming. My one blade against whatever he was packing. Not to mention his pants versus my dress. He had the upper hand in every way. And he knew it.

“How do I know you’re even telling the truth?” I finally asked. “You’re asking me to take the word of an assassin. Someone who took a contract to kill me!”

“And then didn’t! Doesn’t that win me any brownie points?”

I laughed. “You’re kidding, right? You’re asking me to thank you for not killing me?”

Alarm flashed in Jerrik’s eyes. But before I could respond, a firm hand gripped my throat and wrenched me back.

“If you won’t thank him,” a gruff voice rasped in my ear. “I will.”