Page 45 of Protecting The Gray Wolf
“I can’t.” Both options were abhorrent. He couldn’t harm a hair on her head. Nor could he let her go.
“Too bad. I’m done. I’ll take care of myself. I always do.” She spun away again and yanked on the metal gate on the elevator or tried to. He caught it, preventing it from opening. “Let me go, Kade.”
The knot in his stomach tripled in size. It wasn’t anger in her voice but defeat. “I can’t.”
She leaned her head against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself, hunching away from him.
“I’m sorry. You have no idea how much. I messed up. I admit that. I needed to be sure. You’re right. I’m too close to you, to the situation, but there’s more than my life at stake.”
“And you’re sure now?” The lackluster, emotionless tone made his heart ache. He’d done this. He’d killed the spark between them. Maybe for good.
Despair almost sent him to his knees, but somehow, he managed to answer. “I am.” He had to be. If she was a part of this and betrayed him, he might as well lie down and give up now. His wolf trusted her on an instinctual level. So did he, which was why he was so wary. It wasn’t in his nature to take people at face value. In his experience, everyone had an agenda. Hers had been to protect him. Now it was to get away from him.
“That makes one of us.” It was like a punch to the gut, but he deserved no less.
“I’m a mistrustful bastard. When I discovered the connection between Charles and the gallery, it shook me. I didn’t really believe you were a part of their plan.”
“You didn’t want to believe. That’s not the same thing. I get it. We’re practically strangers. I forgot that for a second, allowed the past, my lifelong love of the gray wolf, to overshadow the facts.”
For decades, he’d battled alone, compelled by a power beyond him to hunt, to serve the greater good. He’d fought to survive, to find purpose and meaning when the years bled together and loneliness threatened to crush him. Nothing in his past had prepared him for this.
The determination that had kept him alive when the odds had been against him, served him now. “Look at me, Luna.” When she shook her head, he gripped her shoulders and eased her around. Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. She was biting her bottom lip, valiantly fighting them back. “I’m so damn sorry.” When a single one spilled down her cheek, he caught it on his thumb.
Unable to bear her pain, pain he’d caused, he hugged her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was surprised when she didn’t struggle, didn’t fight him. “I allowed fear to cloud my judgment. They targeted you specifically. How did you get your job? How far back does their manipulation go?”
She stiffened and slowly raised her head. “Oh my God, you’re right. Chelsea introduced herself when I was at a weekend artist market. I used to sell sketches and small paintings, mostly wildlife and nature scenes. She took my card and emailed me a few days later.” She rubbed her forehead. “That doesn’t make sense. According to Chelsea, yesterday was the first time she and Solange had met.”
“Chelsea might not be aware of Charles’ involvement and, by proxy, hers. The investment in her gallery is through an investment fund. Or she might know him but not his connection to Solange.”
“It’s all so convoluted.”
“Not when you consider who’s behind it. It puts layers of protection between them and anyone who might poke around their business. I bet if you asked Chelsea, her silent investor probably mentioned she might want to look at your work and consider employing you.”
“It’s all a lie.” Her laugh was bitter. “My life is built on lies and manipulation.”
“Not all of it.” He ran his hand up and down her back, soothing not only her but also himself and his wolf. “Your talent in undeniable. I couldn’t look away from the painting from the moment I set eyes on it.”
“I was shocked she allowed me to hang one for the show.”
He hated to add another layer of doubt, but it was best to lay it all out there. “Again, she might have done it on her own or might have been prompted by her partner to do so.”
She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “What about the dreams? They go back to my childhood. Are they real or has someone else been pulling my strings since I was born?”
“I honestly don’t know.” It killed him not to be able to reassure her. “The players in this game are older than either of us. I have no idea what Solange is capable of, but I know someone who might have answers.”
She lowered her head, determination firing her eyes. “Who?”
“The white wolf.”
…
Naked, Solange stood in the darkened room. Incense perfumed the air.
Charles was busy using his network of spies and hackers to track their prey from the hotel where they were last seen. It was a tedious process, but he was confident his people were getting close. Maybe he was, but she wasn’t willing to wait.
Raising her arms in the air, she began to chant. A candle flickered to life. Then another and another until a circle of light surrounded her. The reflection of the flames danced against the walls.
Kneeling, she reached for a vial. It contained the last drop of precious blood from the gray wolf. Holding it over a polished silver dish, she hesitated. Once she used it, there would be no more unless they captured Kade.
