Chloe Cole(21)
Thwap.
Willa whipped her head to the left at the sound still reverberating through the room.
What the hell was that?
Thwap!
Her heart raced as she narrowed her eyes and clutched the robe more tightly around her waist. Either something was seriously wrong with the pipes behind the far wall or someone was trying to get into the house.
Etienne?
Her mind reeled wildly, recalling an image of the charming Frenchman before rewinding even further to a memory of his much larger, much more terrifying incarnation.
Etienne’s dragon? Would he really challenge Drake by breaking into his home to get to her?
A flash through the window caught her eye and a pair of incandescent eyes gleamed in the darkness. Her throat closed as she took a slow step backward and then another, creeping toward the kitchen door. Had he—it?—seen her yet? If not, it was best to keep her movements at a minimum. But if so? She should be running like hell.
Whatever the case, she had to get Drake, and fast.
Sucking in a breath, she pushed aside her indecision, wheeled around, making a mad dash for the door. She’d barely made it three steps before she slammed into what felt like a brick wall.
“Willa, stop! It’s me.”
The familiar whisper had her wheeling backward in utter shock.
“Grey?”
* * *
The path in front of him was long and winding, and as he walked it, it only seemed to grow longer. He could see her, just ten yards ahead, but it was as if his feet were stuck in molasses and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move faster.
“Willa,” he called, his voice rife with worry. Surely she could see the quicksand in front of her. Surely she realized she had to slow down and watch where she was going.
Instead, she tossed a terrified glance over her shoulder and only ran faster.
“Willa!” he shouted, this time panic taking over as cold dread ran through him. Two more steps and she—
Drake sat bolt upright with a roar and blinked wildly as the vision in his head faded. The adrenaline pounding through his blood mixed with relief as reality dawned.
A dream. It was just a dream.
He drew in a long breath and blew it out, willing his heartbeat to slow. Everything was all right and Willa was—
He turned to peer more closely at the pile of blankets and pillows beside him that he’d thought were obscuring his sleeping wife.
Nope. She was gone.
He leapt to his feet and charged across the room, trying to stay calm. The fear that gripped him was residual stress from his dream. That was all. She was probably just in the library, or went to the kitchen to get a drink of water.
But as he charged down the stairs, he knew he was lying to himself. Her scent still hung in the air, spicy and sweet, but her aura…the presence that both calmed him and made him wild all at the same time?
It was gone.
If something had happened to her, he would never forgive himself. And if Etienne had done something to her?
His dragon stretched and pulsed inside him, like a ball of fury wrapped in vengeance.
He pushed back the urge to shift and tried to keep his blood pressure from skyrocketing to the point that it wasn’t within his control any longer. By the time he made it through the great room, he was crazed. He kicked down the kitchen door with a snarl and stopped short as he took in the scene before him.
The door was open, and swinging on its hinges in the chilly night winds and a second scent assailed his nostrils. Not Etienne.
White hot fury formed a ball in his stomach replacing the icy dread.
Wolves.
Somehow, his clever little wife had contacted her brethren and they had come to rescue her. And her little seduction had been nothing more than another trick to get him to let his guard down.
A trick that had worked all too well.
A searing pain shot through his heart, so deep, his muscles shook at the blow.
Images of the past few days flitted through his mind in the world’s cruelest highlight reel.
Willa with her head tossed back in ecstasy as he drove into her.
Willa laughing as he told her about his first kiss.
Willa’s soft smile as she traced the line of his jaw.
Jesus. She left him. She played him for a fool. He thought she was falling in love with him and he’d let his guard down. He’d trusted her and she’d charged in with her cavalry and obliterated him.
He’d spent half the night raking himself over the coals, riddled with guilt. And this was how she did him?
The second blast of rage that came was nothing but a relief as it smothered the pain threatening to choke him.
All thoughts of letting her choose…all thoughts of offering his wife her freedom disintegrated under the violent heat of his fury as he bounded toward the great room door, already letting his muscles loosen, already letting his wings unfurl.