Page 33 of Pretty Little Shadow
Luckily, some annoying stalker had taken a video of him through a crack in the window coverings at the boutique the entire time he was in the store, so I could see that he left an appropriate amount of space between him and woman who seemed to be helping him pick out clothes.
All of the clothes he chose were black.
I didn't see him touch any thongs, either.
Someone took a picture of the number on the checkout screen before he paid. When they posted an enhanced version of the photo that cleared the blurriness, I nearly threw up at the total amount he'd just casually spent on clothes I might not even like.
Pictures of him stopping in front of an expensive hotel appeared on the website, but the hotel's security was so insane that no one saw what he did when he was inside.
He wasn't carrying any bags when he left on his Ducati, headed back toward Fae Row (to Callum & Kat Frost's house, in particular).
My car parked about two minutes after he drove away, and I swore inwardly when I looked up and realized I'd spent the entire drive tracking his location obsessively.
Something really was wrong with me.
Could a fated mate bond be considered an illness?
God, I hoped so.
The guy who'd driven my car escorted me to the door politely, even after I tried to turn him down multiple times. The escort ended up being useful, because there were still a few of the Scorchies (Dare's fanclub, which I refused to consider myself a part of) hanging around the hotel. They were going to lose their minds when they saw me there after seeing me leave the brewery with him the night before.
I wasn't sure where to feel smug or panicked about that, and couldn't decide, so I went with both.
Smug, and panicked.
Messy combination, not recommended.
One of the hotel's workers was waiting just inside the doors. They greeted me with a smile, then walked to the elevator with me and my chauffeur.
During the walk and the ride up to the top floor, they gave me two keycards and a quick rundown of the hotel's amenities.
I was overwhelmed long before they finished saying, "We're so glad to have you here."
It took me three tries to get the room's card reader to work because my hands were shaking so much.
As soon as I had the door open, I shut it tightly and pressed my back against it. My gaze flicked across the luxurious space, my eyes widening.
Darius hadn't been joking when he said it was a suite.
The living area was in front of me, with two large couches that faced each other, and a gigantic TV off to the side of them in the spacious room. Everything was bright and airy with hints of nature around us, clearly designed to the werewolves' tastes.
I should've hated it, but I didn't.
A glance through a massive doorway revealed a monstrous bed, and the edge of an even more monstrous bathroom.
My gaze went back to the coffee table between the two couches. The things I'd asked Darius for were sitting right there.
Plus a bag of Thai food.
My stomach rumbled, though I had no business being hungry already. I'd never needed to eat like this before, and I still didn't want to admit to myself that it was blood I needed.
I'd just have to try to satisfy my bloodthirst with whatever he'd bought for me.
Perching on the edge of the couch, I pulled out both boxes of Thai food. There were pictures of Darius on the lids of both.
He was grinning in one, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
He was posing in the other one, sprawled out across a couch. During my obsessive streak, I'd learned that he modeled for a few years. No one knew why.
