Page 31 of Bitten Shifter (The Bitten Chronicles #1)

Chapter Thirty-One

After several days of observation, I’m finally discharged from the medical centre and—for vampire security reasons—end up at Merrick’s Zone Two residence, in his office building. But it’s more than an office. He has a whole apartment here, and Riker lives here too.

Human First denies any involvement, claiming the attackers were part of a rogue chapter, not an official affiliate. It’s absurd, of course, but what can you do? It won’t stop Merrick from pursuing those responsible.

Although I wasn’t exactly invited, I don’t let that keep me from crashing today’s meeting.

I’m in a high-tech war room, waiting. Along the walls, antique bookcases have been modified with hidden panels, revealing rows of high-resolution screens showing live feeds, maps, and encrypted data. In the centre sits a polished oak table, its surface dotted with sleek touchscreens and holographic projectors. Shifters, apparently, appreciate style.

My magic thrums with anticipation. The things I could do in this room…

The door opens, and Merrick and Riker stride in. Merrick wears black combat trousers, bunched slightly at the tops of his tactical boots, and a black long-sleeved T-shirt. He isn’t just dressed for war—he is war.

Wow.

My mate is ridiculously beautiful.

They both spot me at once. Merrick’s reaction is immediate. He shakes his head, voice resolute. “No. You are not going. This isn’t your concern.”

“Not my concern. Huh. Right.”

Tension radiates off him. “Must you be such a nightmare? Lark, they poisoned you with wolfsbane. If you hadn’t shifted—if you were not this strong—you would be dead. It should have killed you. I’m not letting you near them. It’s my job to deal with it. I will deal with them.”

I squirm in the chair, irritation prickling beneath my skin. “You’re really not used to being defied, are you?”

He shoots me a look, and I fold my arms, huffing. No one’s ever protected me like this before—Paul never cared enough—but Merrick cares a little too much. I know he’s worried, but I’m forty-seven, not a child.

Besides, I have the information they need and the skills to help.

“You can’t protect me from everything, Merrick.”

“I can try. Since I met you, I’ve aged a hundred years.” He tries to sound light, but there’s sincerity in his words.

“I will have nightmares about that day,” I say softly, the admission slipping out. “Leaving you bleeding, unconscious. I need some control back. I’m not saying I want to kill them, but I need to see them caught. Punished. And I can help.”

He regards me for a moment, and I catch that flicker of sadness again—fear lurking under the surface of his gaze.

“If you come, you will see a side of me I don’t want you to. A side?—”

“A side that what?” I cut him off. “Merrick, I know you are the Alpha Prime. I’ve heard the rumours. Nothing you do will make me afraid or drive me away. But if you insist on controlling me, then we have got a problem.” His jaw clenches, so I press on. “We’re mates. I feel it, deep down. That does not mean I will roll over and accept your decisions. You have to help me do this. I have to see this through. I need closure.”

He groans, running a hand over his face. “You can barely shift. You have been sick?—”

“I know.”

“You have lost weight?—”

“I know.”

He glowers, and I hold his gaze.

“God, you will be the death of me,” he says, louder now. “No, Lark. No. It’s not safe and you are not trained. I swear I will punish them for you.”

“You are going to do this without me?” I demand.

“Yes.”

“Oh? So you have found them?”

Don’t grin, Lark. Don’t grin.

He scowls, a flash of frustration in his eyes. He has not.

“It’s been a week. The trail must have gone awfully cold,” I continue, adding my final blow. “If I can’t help, I’m not telling you where they are.” I meet his glare with one of my own.

“Just give me the info. I will go myself. Riker, the team?—”

“So,” Riker drawls, leaning against the door, “you’re going to do your ‘magic’ thing?” He flicks a hand in my direction and wiggles his fingers.

I freeze. “Magic?” I echo, my heart hammering.

“Yes, magic,” Riker repeats, his smirk widening. “I noticed you glossed over how you got that GPS data during the debrief. You didn’t fool me.”

“Riker,” Merrick growls. We both ignore him.

My stomach drops. “What makes you think it’s magic?” I try for indignation, but my voice betrays me with a slight squeak. “Maybe I’m just a super-talented hacker.”

Riker shrugs, his grin turning sly. “A hacker? You, Little Miss Goody Two Shoes? Or maybe you are someone who blends tech and magic together.” He leans in slightly. “Lark, drop the act. You’re a technomancer.”

I wince, then school my face into a glare, fists clenching. “Now what? You going to tell everyone?”

“Calm down,” Riker says. “Your secret’s safe with us—and with the Ministry of Magic.”

“The Ministry of Magic?” My chest tightens. “What about them?”

Merrick pulls a sealed envelope from a hidden drawer. The paper almost crackles with contained magic.

“I was going to broach this subject with you delicately,” he scowls at Riker. “You must have had a good reason to keep your magic secret. While you were unconscious, they sent a summons,” he says quietly, his eyes fixed on my face.

“A summons?” That does not sound good.

My hands tremble as I stare at the envelope.