“Are you all right?” Lachlan’s gaze was searching.

  He was too damned observant. “Fine.” I hurried off down the street. “This way. I remember seeing Winding Lane down here.”

  The streets were bustling as we cut our way through town. Though they’d been empty before, they were now heaving with people, many of whom were dressed as Vikings, complete with fur cloaks and helmets. At least half of them held flaming torches high above the crowds, creating enough heat to warm the night.

  Songs reverberated through the streets, and in the distance, I could see a massive wooden boat drifting toward us. It sat right above the head level of the crowd, and I had to assume that it was being carried on the shoulders of the townsfolk. Up Helly Aa was no small deal around these parts, and something about the ceremony tugged at my soul.

  Was this place really part of my past? Were there more lies in my history than I’d realized? Was I even who I thought I was?

  I shook away the crazy thoughts, knowing that I was at risk of spiraling. With the moon higher in the sky, I could feel myself weakening.

  It didn’t take us long to find The Norn, but the place wasn’t marked. I remembered the green door from earlier in our search, but I’d had no reason to recognize it. A tiny window sat at eye level, covered by a sliding door set into the wood.

  “It’s a secret club,” I said. “Like a speakeasy.”

  Lachlan tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge. The tiny window whisked open, and a pair of green eyes appeared. They flickered with suspicion as the person asked, “Password?”

  Shit.

  It was like a speakeasy.

  Lachlan

  * * *

  I stared at the man’s eyes through the tiny window in the door. This bloody club was proving to be annoying. We didn’t have time for this shit.

  I imbued my voice with the Alpha’s Command, feeling it vibrate with power. “Let us in.”

  Two lines appeared between the man’s eyes as he inspected us. “Can’t try that on me. Not a shifter.”

  “But this is the Alpha’s place,” Eve said.

  “Don’t mean it’s run only by shifters.”

  That was unfortunate. “I’m Lachlan MacGregor, Alpha of the Guild City pack. Here to pay my respects to the Alpha of Shetland.”

  “A moment.” The little window slammed shut.

  “Do you know who the Alpha is?” I asked quietly.

  “Not by sight, no,” said Eve. “Heard of her, though. Fiona Fraser.”

  There were over two dozen packs in Europe alone, so it was no surprise I hadn’t met her. Would have been convenient, though.

  A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a bruiser of a man with a bald head and an impeccably tailored suit. “She’ll see you.”

  Thank fates pulling rank had worked.

  Together, we stepped into the quiet bottom level of the bar. It was an unassuming space, empty save for the metal staircase that wound its way upward. The bouncer gestured for us to take it, and we climbed quickly to the next level. I went in front of Eve, not wanting her to be the first to walk into an unknown place.

  The next level was a quiet, dark bar, a classy place with crystal glasses and small, gleaming wooden tables.

  “She has a private room,” the bouncer said. “To your left.”

  We walked ahead of him, weaving our way through the tiny tables. Though a small jazz band played softly in the corner, I could still hear the revelry outside.

  Strange that the Alpha would be in here if there was an important civic event happening.

  The room the bouncer led us to was located at the back of the building. Wide glass windows revealed a view of the sea beyond, which glittered in the moonlight.

  A woman sat in a massive, thronelike armchair across from the door, her legs crossed casually as she stared at us. There were about a dozen other shifters scattered around the room, lounging in booths and at tables as they drank amber-colored alcohol and murmured in low voices.

  The Alpha was only about ten years older than me, with the calm self-assurance of the best alphas. Her dark hair was pulled up in an intricate series of braids, and she was dressed in an outfit of leather and fur that had to be a Viking costume.

  She arched a brow as we approached. “Visitors on Up Helly Aa? Don’t you know it’s impossible to find accommodation?”

  I inclined my head respectfully. “I am Lachlan, Alpha of the Guild City pack.”

  “I know who you are.” Her gaze flicked to Eve. Cunning gleamed in the depths of her eyes, along with ruthlessness. “And who are you?”

  “Eve,” she said.

  “Just Eve?”

  “Just Eve.”

  “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” She studied her, something shadowed in the depths of her eyes. Knowledge? Did she recognize Eve?

  It almost felt like she did. But Eve didn’t seem to recognize her.

  Fiona gestured to a man standing against the window. He hurried to bring two chairs, and Eve and I sat across from her.

  “What brings you to our islands, if not our festival?” she asked.

  “A theft,” I said.

  Her eyes sharpened. “Not the one that just happened, I’m sure?”

  “Perhaps.” I told her the story of what had happened down in London, and what we’d found on Wyre. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to show her our hand so soon, but I left out any mention of Eve’s role and the Maker. As long as she was kept safe, I was willing to take the risk. Anyway, it was important to give something when you wanted something.

  As I spoke, the Alpha’s eyes grew more shadowed. “A Moon Stone, you say?”

  “Aye. One that was taken centuries ago from its resting place on Wyre.”

  Fiona’s lips twisted. “Bastards.”

  “What was taken from the stone circle today?” I asked. “We heard about a theft, but we couldn’t get close enough to see.”

  She frowned. “You’re a coincidence that I wasn’t expecting.”

  “I don’t think any of this is coincidence,” Eve said.

  Fiona nodded. “I think you’re right.” She leaned back in her chair. “Another Moon Stone was stolen from us.”

  Shock lanced me. “What?”

  “Weren't expecting that, were you?”

  “No. Though perhaps I should have been.” I frowned. “Did you know it was buried there?”

  “We did. Never disturbed it, though, as it wasn’t ours to disturb.”

  “The woman I spoke to said it was your turf,” Eve remarked.

  Fiona nodded. “Aye. As Alpha, I’m steward of that circle. But it’s an ancient heritage site. More importantly, it’s not our ancient heritage site. We have no right to it or its contents, but we do have a responsibility to protect it.” She grimaced. “We failed, victim of a threat we didn’t see coming.”

  Her words about rights and responsibilities spoke to me. For all her ruthlessness and cunning, she could be trusted.

  “What do you mean, it’s not your heritage?” Eve said. “Because it belongs to people who came before your ancestors?”

  The woman nodded. “The circle was built by people who lived here thousands upon thousands of years ago. They’re closer relations to me than the ancient wolves who buried the Moon Stone there a thousand years ago.”

  “The Vikings?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Fiona gestured to the people in the room, then toward the windows. “The people on these islands are descendants of the Vikings and Scots who lived here over the last centuries. It’s why we’re burning that boat tonight—remembering our heritage. But the people who buried the Moon Stone at the circle were different.”

  “Different how?”

  “They were Vikings, yes. But they were a species of wolf unlike any that has been seen in these parts for nearly six hundred years.”

  “Extinct?” I frowned. The old man on Wyre had said they were gone, but not extinct. “A breed of shifters who’ve been totally eradicated?”

  She nodded. “That’s what we believe, yes. They came over here with the rest of the Vikings in the eighth century. My ancestors. And for some reason, they took a liking to that ancient circle and buried their Moon Stone there. Carved their images on the stones as well.”

  “But they’ve been gone for hundreds of years,” Eve said. “Why?”

  Fiona shrugged. “That, I do not know. What we have are stories passed down through the years, along with what has been written on the stones—much of it in a language we can’t read.”

  Fates, this was getting twisty.

  The faint sound of bells pealed outside, and Fiona stood. “That’s my cue. It’s time to light up the boat.”

  I stood, frowning. There were still more questions.

  Fiona could clearly see it in my face, as she raised her hand. “Not now. We’ve waited all year to light this damned thing on fire. Tomorrow morning, I’ll have something to show you. It’s best to see it at dawn, anyway.”

  “Thank you.” Eve stood. “Truly.”

  She nodded. “I meant it when I said accommodation is impossible to find. Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

  “We do not,” I replied.

  “There’s a garret at the top of this building. It’s yours if you want it. There’s a good view of the festival from the window, in fact.”

  “Thank you.” I inclined my head to her. “We owe you.”

  “I’ll be sure to collect. But in the meantime, plan to meet on the street out front, an hour before dawn. Don’t be late.” Without a backward glance, she swept from the room. Her pack followed her, leaving us alone.

  I turned to Eve. “Shall we go watch this festival from the window?”

  She nodded. “Let’s. Dawn will come early.”

  9

  Eve

  * * *

  Together, Lachlan and I made our way to the stairs that led to the top of the building. We passed a little toilet on the floor below. The tiny flat held only a bed and a counter with a sink.

  I faltered when I entered and stared at the small bed. It was a double mattress, at best. How the hell were we both going to fit?

  A glow from the single window caught my attention, and I walked toward it. In the distance, I could see the blazing Viking boat. It was magnificent—a bonfire in the middle of town, the surrounding crowd cheering as the inferno lit up the night.

  “Impressive,” Lachlan said from behind me.

  I nodded, riveted, but part of my mind was back on that bed.

  “I can sleep on the floor,” he offered.

  “We’ll be fine.” The words escaped me before I could consider them, but I meant it. I wouldn’t make him sleep on the floor, and we would be fine. Sure, I wanted him, but I had some self-control. He definitely had self-control.

  As the blaze died down, I turned from the window and toed off my boots, then climbed into the bed. I arranged myself in a narrow shape and stared up at the ceiling, leaving plenty of room for him. “You might as well sleep here,” I said, shoving a pillow between us.

  He sighed, then turned off the light and climbed onto the other side of the bed, making sure to stay on top of the covers. His weight depressed the mattress, and I could imagine him lying there so close to me.

  Immediately, the room shrank by half, and every inch of my skin lit up with awareness.

  Shit.

  This, perhaps, had been a bad idea.

  Lachlan didn’t move a muscle, however. He might as well have been a statue. Seconds passed, then minutes. At one point, I heard a hitch in his breath that made my own breath catch.

  Images flashed in my head—me, him, us. What if I just rolled over and kissed him? That wouldn’t be the craziest idea.

  Yes, it would.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut and tried to ignore the thoughts that popped into my head.

  Impossible, of course.

  By the time I finally fell asleep, I was so worked up that the next part felt like a dream.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t alone anymore. There was warmth pressed up along one side of my body. Like a heat-seeking missile, I turned toward it, then raised my hand and sunk it into Lachlan’s hair.

  He moaned low in his throat, still asleep.

  I was still asleep, too—wasn’t I?

  Did it matter?

  Through a haze of dreams, it was easy to do what I wanted. Especially when he wanted it, too.

  I pulled at him, and he rolled on top of me, settling between my thighs with a groan. Despite the layers of clothing, the heat and hardness of him made me gasp. Pleasure shot through me, stealing away the rest of my resistance.

  I was awake.

  So was he, and his green gaze burned down at me, hot and fierce. “We shouldn’t,” he whispered.

  “I know,” I said, and kissed him.

  He leaned into the press of my lips and slipped his tongue into my mouth. He kissed like a man determined to enjoy his final minutes on earth, and my head spun.

  “Fates, it’s been so long,” he muttered, dragging his mouth down the side of my neck.

  Heat trailed in his wake, making me shiver. “So long?”

  “There’s been no one since I saw you that first time.” The words seemed torn from him, as if he didn’t want to share them but couldn’t help himself.

  No one? Holy fates, I couldn’t imagine.

  Was that why he spent so much time in the fight ring?

  I tilted my head, joining my lips with his as I kissed him like he was the last person I would ever kiss.

  He might be.

  Time slowed as he moved on top of me, heat and pressure making pleasure coil more tightly within me.

  “More,” I gasped.

  He shuddered, then slipped a hand to my stomach, resting it on my skin. His fingertips drifted lower, brushing the waistband of my jeans.

  I shuddered, arching up toward him.

  “May I?” His voice was rough as gravel.

  “Yes. Please.” I couldn’t get the words out fast enough, wanting to do this before my rational self caught up with us.

  Deftly, he flicked open the buttons and slipped his hand inside my pants. At the first touch of his fingertip to my flesh, he shuddered. “Heaven.”

  Ecstasy like I’d never known raced through me as he found the center of my pleasure, focusing his efforts there. It didn’t take long for my body to explode into a kaleidoscope of sensation.

  When it was over, I opened my eyes. Lachlan stared down at me like I was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

  Then he launched himself off the bed.

  Horror flashed through me, and I yanked a pillow over myself even though I was still mostly clothed. He clenched his fists, his eyes flickering black.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” he almost growled, then spun around and charged from the room.

  Panting, I stared up at the ceiling.

  Holy fates. Had that really just happened?

  And his eyes…

  Lachlan

  * * *

  I strode away, my mind racing and my heart barely able to keep up. At the base of the stairs, I leaned against the wall.

  What had I just let myself do?

  With shaking hands, I dug one of Mordaca’s potions from my pocket and swigged it back. The foul taste was welcome, and I prayed it would suppress the curse that I could feel raging through my veins.

  Frustrated, I pinched the bridge of my nose.

  The fact that I had been desperate for her was no justification.

  I’d known that we were impossible even when I was a teenager. That I’d avoided other women hadn’t been to save myself for her, because she was never supposed to happen. It had just felt…right.

  Lonely and frustrating, but right.

  Ever since I’d seen her, there’d been no one else for me. I couldn’t even imagine it.

  So I’d spent all my free time in the fight ring. Fat lot of good it had done me now. At the first opportunity, while my defenses were lowered in sleep, I gave in.

  And how glorious it had been.

  But it could never happen again.

  10

  Eve

  * * *

  I woke alone.

  Lachlan had never returned, and I was grateful. The last thing I needed was to roll over and look into his eyes.

  Last night had been…amazing. Stupid, but amazing.

  I rubbed my chest, wondering how much further my heart had inched toward him.

  Nope. No time to think of that now. I needed to get my head in the game and solve the mystery of what the hell was going on here.

  Of what the hell I was.

  It didn’t take long to pull on my boots and jacket. Sleeping in my clothes hadn’t been fun, but it had been efficient, at least. Ralph was nowhere to be seen, for which I was also grateful. I couldn’t imagine that he would have any comforting words for me.

  The stairs creaked as I made my way down. The early morning was still dark, the air crisp and cool with a hint of rain on the horizon.

  Lachlan leaned against the wall next to the door, but he straightened when I stepped out onto the pavement. I could see people in the distance, still partying on the streets from the night before.

  I stopped a few feet from Lachlan and leaned against the same wall. He handed me a takeaway coffee cup and warm paper bag. The scent of a sausage roll wafted toward me, and my stomach grumbled.

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and looked away, clearly not wanting to make eye contact.

  That was fine. Better, in fact.

  I turned and looked out at the street, listening to the sounds of the continuing party as I bit into the savory, salty roll. I finished my breakfast in record time, then started on the coffee. After my first bracing sip, a car rolled up.

  The Land Rover was muddy and well used, but the woman at the wheel was as coiffed as she had been yesterday. Fiona rolled down the window and nodded toward the back. “Get in.”

 

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