Page 40

“Wait here.” He stepped out of sight, and Eve’s stomach chose that moment to start churning.

What if he doesn’t take the bait?

He will, Roadkill assured her.His curiosity will get the better of him. You’ll see.

You know what they say about curiosity. It killed the cat. Is it too much to hope he’s a kitty shifter?

The guard reappeared. “Follow me.”

See? Worrying about nothing.

Eve wished she had half of Hashtag’s confidence in that moment. Her own seemed to have packed its bags and gotten the fuck out of there.

She walked behind the guard into the large courtyard, the castle rising up before her, the main door to her right beneath a huge stone arch. She glanced at the smaller buildings around the yard, searching for signs that one of them was used as a barracks. She saw only two guards standing several feet away from the door, relaxed enough to be on their phones.

The guard in front pushed open the heavy door, and she stepped inside. The castle’s interior was cool enough to chill the perspiration that had popped out on her brow. She followed the guard, crossing the worn stone flags that comprised the floor, the walls covered in oak panels adorned with shields, portraits, and the occasional head of a deer.

Nice. Cozy.

I think it needs swords on the walls. Suits of armor. An instrument of torture or two.

Eve mentally rolled her eyes.Guys? Please?

She needed all her wits about her right then. Going in there distracted was a surefire way to end up dead.

“In there.” The guard pointed to a wide oak door.

Conversation isn’t one of his strengths, is it?That was Roadkill.

Eve gave a snort.I don’t think he’s here to indulge in small talk.

She took stock of her surroundings, searching for something that could be used as a weapon if things went to hell. One of those swords Hashtag had mentioned, for example. Even a heavy vase would do in a pinch.

A stone fireplace dominated the room, and on either side were two heavily carved chairs, their wood dark and glossy from many years of care. The space was stuffed with furniture, none of it appearing remotely comfortable, especially the high-backed chairs beneath the leaded windows. An octagonal table stood in the center, its surface inlaid with warm veneers. Two dark green couches faced the fire, but again Eve doubted anyone ever sat on them. It was a cluttered room, claustrophobic despite its size, and she got the feeling nothing she was seeing had anything to do with the present owner.

“Eve Duncan. Served in our military from 2015 until six months ago, when you quit, supposedly to start a family.” The words sounded as though they were accompanied by a sneer.

She turned.Here we go.

Theron was shorter than her, and so much older. He wore a suit, which kind of surprised her.

What was I expecting? Robes?

His bald head gleamed in the lamplight that caught in the white of his beard. Many lines crossed his brow, but what drew the attention were his eyes.

There were as cold as stone.

Then his gaze raked her body. He smirked, and Eve had to fight to hide the disgust that swamped her.

“Gorilla shifter, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” She was grateful—and surprised—that her voice came out strong. Behind Theron, a guard stood at the door.

“And why would you leave for such a reason when you could have been part of the breeding program? With your strength, you could give us many powerful babies.”

Fuck. She wanted to shift and rip into him right then and there. “Because at the time it was suggested that I be part of it, I preferred being on the front lines.” The coldness of her tone matched his.

He shook his head. “Women are supposed to do as they’re told.”