While she was still out, Maddox spent hours planning what he would do when she came to again. How he would grovel if he needed to, beg if he had to, anything to make Evangeline see that she had nothing to fear. That he had no other choice.
He hadn’t. To a human, this was definitely kidnapping. Paras didn’t see things in black and white like the do-gooder Ants did. Especially when it came to shifters, it was all about instinct. The mating instinct was almost undeniable. He wasn’t about to climb on top of his poor mate and start rutting on her—he had more control over his animalistic urges than that—but there was no right or wrong when it came to being with his mate.
Evangeline was a human. There was a pretty good chance that she wasn’t going to see it the same way as he did.
There was still some light left outside, but night was quickly creeping in when his ears pricked. He heard her breathing change, the deep pulls turning shallow as she struggled to resurface again. Her legs stretched, toes pointed, the sheet beneath her rustling as she twisted, going from her back to her side.
Maddox froze, then quickly backed into the corner. Because if he didn’t? He wasn’t sure he could stop himself from rushing toward her and that just wouldn’t end well at all.
He crossed his arms over his chest, heart racing, fangs lengthening, and he waited.
It took longer than he liked for Evangeline to fully return to consciousness. So in tune with every move she made, desperate for her to look at him, to realize he was standing right there, Maddox could tell when it finally hit her that something wasn’t right.
That something was off.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Evangeline flipped so that she was laying on her back again. She didn’t see him right away. Her eyes were open, though, big, green eyes staring up at the ceiling as she let out a soft moan.
His hackles rose. The growl was out before he could swallow it.
Evangeline turned toward the sound. Letting out a squeak of surprise, she lifted her head enough to spy him lurking in the corner of the room.
Her mouth dropped. She took a deep breath—
Maddox leapt forward, dashing toward her, closing the gap between them before she could even fill her lungs. He held his hands out, pleading. “Don’t scream. Please don’t scream.”
She strangled the scream, turning it into a panicked gasp. Her eyes darted his way, shooting to his left, his right, taking in the room that had to be entirely unfamiliar. She saw the door.
He’d throw himself in front of it before he let her get to it. One glance at his face, and she could tell.
Evangeline struggled to find the right words. “What is… what are you—”
“It’s just you and me here. You’re safe, I swear it. I had to take you with me. You’ll understand if you just give me a chance to explain.”
She trembled. Terror mixed with pure disbelief as she stared up at him. A spark of recognition filled her wild green eyes. For a second, he had hope, when she said softly, “Wait. I know you. You’re the guy from Mugs.”
Shoulders sagging, Maddox nodded.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s where I was… but where am I now? Where did you take me?”
“Listen, I can explain.”
She didn’t want to hear it. “I was drinking coffee. It’s the last
thing I remember. I couldn’t have blacked out again… there was no headache. How did I get here?”
“You didn’t black out,” Maddox told her. He didn’t know what she meant by headaches or blacking out, but he didn’t want Evangeline to think there was something wrong with her. “It was me. I just needed you calm.”
“Calm?” Her voice rose so high on that one syllable, the pitch could’ve shattered glass. “Calm? I am not calm. You can’t expect me to be calm. Where am I? Who are you? What the hell is going on?”
Then, as if just realizing that she was laying in an unknown male’s bed, Evangeline’s back went ramrod straight as she jerked upright, pulling herself in a sitting position. The sheet pooled around her waist. Her attention dropped to her chest.
Relief pulsed off of her for a split second as she realized that she still had on the pale pink v-neck tee that she’d be wearing when she went to the coffee shop.
The relief didn’t last, though.
Shoving her hair out of her face, Evangeline looked over at him, shock plus confusion—and a heavy dose of pure accusation—twisting her pretty face into a look he never wanted to see her shoot his way again.
She swallowed roughly. Her voice, normally so throaty and enticing, was emotionless when she spoke again.