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Amora

I waketo the sound of the main door opening, along with a fresh blast of cold wind that brings the scent of salted meat to my nose.

My stomach rumbles, and I sit up and rub away the sleep from my eyes, making sure the blanket is still covering all my naked bits. I’m not interested in giving a strange man a show this early in the morning.

But it’s not a man. It’s a woman. She carries a metal bowl in one hand and a bundle of fabric in the other, a key dangling from her finger. She’s older, with graying hair, a thin, stooped form, and green eyes that seem to miss nothing. When she reaches my cell, she uses her key to unlock the door in the bars.

“Breakfast,” she says in a scratchy voice, shoving the bowl through. “And clothes.”

I slowly drop my feet to the concrete, side-eying her.

She chuckles. “Girl, I’m here to feed you and get you warm, not kill you.”

“No, but your alpha will,” I say caustically. I ease off the cot, my gaze on the bowl.

The old woman shrugs. “Maybe. At least you’ll have your strength.”

Then she locks the tiny door, stands with a grunt, and shuffles back out into the cold morning.

I look down at the meal she brought me, expecting scraps, but it’s a mixture of eggs, sausage, potatoes, and cheese that’s fragrant with sage and rosemary. She didn’t bring me a fork—probably because I could use it to poke the next guy’s eyes out. Too bad the bowl isn’t ceramic so I could make a shank from its shards.

The bundle of clothes turns out to be a pair of dark wash jeans only a little big on my hips and a thick wool sweater that isn’t any less itchy than the blanket I slept beneath. But once I’m in them and have wrapped the blanket around my shoulders again, the warmth is welcome. Then I pick up the bowl and cross my legs on the cot, resting the dish on my knee.

The old woman has a point. It’d be stupid for me to deny this food. Not with the threat of torture and/or death looming ahead. At least food will keep my strength up and give me the energy I need to keep myself safe.

For as long as I can, anyway.

I shovel the whole bowl down with my fingers, not worrying too much about being dainty with it. It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone.

Once I polish off the food, I curl up on the cot and wait for what comes next.

I mark the passage of time by the color of the sunlight coming in through the single window. Morning’s blues and yellows eventually give way to afternoon’s pinks and oranges. I can tell the snow has stopped because I don’t see it falling outside the window, but everything is covered in glittering white, amplifying the sunlight.

It’s late afternoon before Quinton shows up, accompanied by three other men—one of whom is Kian.

My ex-mate wears jeans that hug his muscular thighs, and his shaggy dark brown hair is still damp from a shower. His gold-ringed gaze slides right over me with vague disinterest, and irritation bubbles up inside me.

So now we’re pretending we don’t know each other. Great.

The alpha is dressed in dark pants and a long-sleeved shirt that stretches over his broad chest. I can’t deny he’s good-looking with his smooth, unmarred dark skin and regal features. He’s older than me by a good bit, maybe in his late forties or early fifties.

He halts outside my cage and sneers down at me, his imposing presence taking up all the space in the room. “Ah. There’s the little bitch who tried to invade my pack. How was your night?”

“Cold,” I tell him curtly. I don’t bother standing. The man doesn’t exactly deserve my respect, so let him get a crick in his neck staring down his nose at me. He’s not my alpha.

Quinton grins. “You appear to have survived, but only because of my mercy. So perhaps you might cooperate with me today.”

I shrug. “Yeah, we’ll see.”

His smile falters for a moment, but he recovers quickly. “Are you aware that Felicity was once my mate? She has an attitude like yours. I can’t say I’m surprised to find that her bitches have picked up her bad habits.”

“Once your mate,” I repeat, my gaze flashing to Kian for a heartbeat. “Did you break your bond?”

Quinton laughs out loud. “Break the bond? That’s not possible. No, she’s still my mate.”

“So you still love her,” I say, gaze drifting back to Kian as anger tightens my chest like a block of cement.

Breaking the bond is possible, isn’t it, jackass? And you know that.

But his rugged expression gives nothing away. He might as well be staring at a stranger.

“I loved her once,” Quinton corrects me. “I do not now. But this conversation is not about me. Why did Felicity send you?”

“Maybe if you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours,” I point out. “If I know more about why Felicity hates you so much, maybe I’ll feel better about talking.”

None of what I said was a lie, really. More like a misdirection. I’m not working for Felicity and have never even met her, but since Quinton thinks I have information he wants, maybe I can use that to get some information from him.

The alpha’s jaw tightens, but he nods once. “Fine.”

“I understand she hates you pretty bad,” I say. “What did you do to make her leave you?”

“She didn’t like how powerful I became.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Like what, lifting weights?”

Quinton’s eye twitches, and I can see on his face that he wants to tell me to shut the fuck up. To be fair, I’m not inclined to make this conversation easy on him.

“I could just go back to sleep,” I offer, patting the shitty mattress.

He purses his lips, his eyes narrowing. “And I could have you killed right now.”

“Yeah, but then you’d never find out what you want to know.” I hold his gaze, practically challenging him to lose his temper.

He looks like he’s about to do just that, an ugly flush rising up his neck and over his cheeks. But then he bites out, “I gained access to some power from the shadow realm, and she didn’t like it.”

“Didn’t like what? Your obsession with power?”

“I’ve answered your question,” Quinton snaps. “You need to answer mine. What were you doing in my village?”

“I had a mission,” I reply with an unconcerned shrug. That’s also true. He doesn’t need to know it was my own mission and not something tasked to me by his ex. “So, what, you chose power over Felicity, right? That’s why she hates you.”

“Felicity couldn’t see the bigger picture,” he says dismissively. “The more shadow power I access, the better I’ll be able to keep my people safe. If she hadn’t left and taken the defectors with her, I’d be able to protect them, as well.”

“Bold of you to assume she needs protection.”


Tags: Callie Rose Feral Shifters Paranormal