Page 31 of Shift of Heart (Shifter Lords #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Six

CAELAN

“ S top being such a sissy,” Simone snapped to the shifter lying in the fetal position, holding his bleeding hand.

“It attacked me,” the shifter whined.

“You’re lucky it didn’t do worse. The note warned you not to get too close.” I eyed the angry flytrap. “There’s something else inside the traps.”

“I’ll get it,” Simone said, reaching for the folded piece of paper.

“No. I’ll do it.” Evie sent the rabid thing to me to prove a point, but I don’t think it was making the one she’d wanted.

“Lord.” Simone reached out to me, but at my look, she lowered her eyes.

“Apologies.”

I stood before the plant—Seymour, she’d named it—and studied the traps.

There was the main one, far larger than it should be, and somewhat sentient.

The other traps lay closer to the soil, watchful and wary.

The envelope was tucked into several of those traps, and if I reached in, I’d leave my hand vulnerable.

The shifter, still lying on the floor, moaned. “Lord. It’s poisoned.”

“I’m aware.” My shifter was still alive. In pain and in a piss poor mood, but still alive.

“The healer will be here momentarily,” Simone said. “If she wanted anyone dead, you wouldn’t be lying there bitching about everything.”

I schooled my expression into blankness. A mother hen, she was not.

“But what kind of poison?” I murmured to myself.

“Paralytic,” the shifter said. “Can’t move anything below my waist.”

Simone’s lips twitched then. The study doors opened, and a massive shifter walked in.

Ben had been with me for over fifty years. He was not a wolf and had never revealed his animal form to me or anyone else that I knew of. Though I suspected maybe Simone knew since I’d caught them making moon eyes at each other a couple of times.

He wasn’t 100% shifter either. Ben had a gift for healing and had stayed on with the Pack when I offered him a job after seeing him in action when a rogue cat shifter caught one of my shifters unaware on a camping trip.

His sharp, dark gaze swept the room, snagging briefly on Simone and betraying his emotions when I caught the sound of his heart rate briefly rising. Simone carefully did not look at him. Instead, she pointed to the ground.

“Poisoned and cut. Says it’s a paralytic.” Her voice was short and to the point, but I’d known her for years and heard the slight tremble in the words.

More power to them if those two got together. Ben never showed a hint of interest in anyone in my Pack or outside. Out of anyone in my Pack, he could use an Omega the most.

Ben was taller than me by about three inches and outweighed me by at least fifty pounds. If he got his hands around me, he might be able to take me in a physical fight, but that had never happened. As a sparring partner, he kept me on my toes.

The healer crouched, a soft blue glow pulsing at his fingertips. “Hold still,” Ben growled.

The shifter obeyed, lying still as the grave.

Ben’s eyes glowed the same color as his fingers as he swept through the body, looking for the source of the poison.

He stilled when he found it. “Oh,” he breathed. “Clever girl.”

My brows went up at the admiration in his words. A sharp pang zinged in my chest, and I brushed it away.

Ben rose and dusted his hands off. “He’ll be fine in an hour or so. I’ll have someone carry him to the clinic.” He turned to examine Seymour.

“Don’t get too close,” I warned.

“I’m a healer,” Ben said. “It knows I’m not a threat.”

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, but Ben reached a finger out as he bent and started speaking in a gentle voice. “Hello, you beautiful little monster. What are you?”

“Red Dragon flytrap,” Simone said.

Ben made a humming noise. “Yes. And no.” With a glowing fingertip, Ben stroked the back of the main trap’s head. Seymour craned its stem up, almost like it craved the attention.

“I’ll be damned,” I breathed.

“This is a gift from your Floromancer, isn’t it?” Ben asked.

“Evie, yes.”

“She’s brilliant,” Ben murmured.

Simone went still, but not before a look of despair crossed her face before she schooled her expression into neutral interest.

The healer rose. “This is a Red Dragon, yes, but she somehow crossed it with Gelsemium DNA while still keeping all the physical properties of the original plant. Still looks like a Red Dragon, still carnivorous, but mildly poisonous to those unfortunate enough to get bitten.” He turned to face me. “Did she leave you with any food?”

I held up the bag of frozen worms. Ben shook his head. “That will tide it over, but I guarantee you your Floromancer has given it her blood.” He chuckled. “If you keep it, you may have to make periodic...offerings.”

“Shit,” I muttered.

Ben pointed to the folded-up paper. “Need me to get that?”

I sighed. “If you would.”

But when Ben reached under the main trap to get the paper, Seymour reacted, snapping at Ben’s wrist. The healer jerked back with lightning-fast reflexes and held his hands out in surrender. “Ah. Okay. For Caelan’s eyes only, I understand.” He stepped back and gestured for me to go ahead.

With a muttered curse, I reached toward Seymour. When it made no aggressive move, I reached further, my fingers curling around the check. Just as I pulled it away from the pot, Seymour reacted, trap opening wide, poison dripping from its teeth as it lunged for me.

I swore and jerked away. “Asshole.”

Ben chuckled. “Shifter Lord, have you ever heard the old saying about attracting more flies with honey?”

“I’m not stroking a plant’s ego,” I snarled.

“Plants don’t have egos. This one is genetically modified to be aggressive, but it only reacted that way to me when I tried to take something meant for you. Perhaps kindness is the way to this thing’s heart.”

“Seymour,” Simone said quietly.

Ben’s brow furrowed before a deep, barreling laugh rumbled through his chest. “Its name is Seymour?” He chuckled again. “I need to meet this Floromancer.”

Hot rage spiraled through me. Simone and Ben turned to me, one of the healer’s eyebrows rising. “Oh. It’s like that, is it?”

“It’s not like anything,” I snarled.

Simone pressed her lips together and took the paper from my hand. “Just in case it’s poisoned,” she said.

“It’s not,” Ben said. “I’d smell it. The only thing on the paper is ink.”

Simone unfolded the paper, and another paper fell out. When she retrieved it, a rush of air expelled from her chest, and she winced. “You aren’t going to like it,” she said.

“What is it?”

Simone held up a check made out to me, written for an extraordinary amount.

The exact amount I spent restoring her shop.

“There’s a note,” Simone continued.

“Read it,” I growled.

Simone cleared her throat. “It just says ‘Check and mate.’”

A low snarl rumbled from my throat. I spun away and stalked from the room, reaching out and swiping a chair up, breaking it in half.

Wood splinters shattered, but it wasn’t enough.

The urge to destroy overwhelmed me. I swept the glass centerpiece from the table, shattering the Murano hand blown bulbs.

“Lord,” Simone said urgently.

I reached for one of the bookshelves, picked it up with one hand and tossed it through the window, the feeling of uselessness screaming through my veins.

Ben murmured something to Simone, so low I couldn’t make it out.

Why won’t she let me protect her? Why must she continually spurn my advances?

I threw my head back, an enraged howl spilling from my throat, and burst through the front door, intent on finding her.