Page 23 of Viktor’s Temptation (East Coast Territory #2)

Yet, no matter how much distance she put between them, Viktor seemed to remain in her head, an ever-present hum she couldn’t block out.

She took a moment to mentally check herself.

The pain in her head was finally gone, leaving her clear-minded again.

But when she glanced back at Viktor, her resolve wavered.

He stood gracefully, the confident motion reminding her how utterly out of her league he seemed.

Then, without a word, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side.

“I’m okay,” she tried to reassure him, though her voice betrayed her unease. She pushed gently against his arm, but even as she did, she realized she didn’t actually want to move away. Everything in her wanted to bury her face against his chest and breathe him in.

His grip tightened fractionally, a silent promise. “Let’s not risk a recurrence,” he murmured softly, his breath brushing against her temple.

Gracie gave up the pretense of resistance, leaning into him with a quiet sigh.

If this was where she was meant to be, why fight it?

She turned her attention to the wolf couple.

The she-wolf, with her soft fur and striking blue eyes, was still pressed lovingly against the man’s thigh.

Her head rested there, her eyes hooded with dreamy bliss while her tail wagged lazily.

The man stroked her fur with long, indulgent motions, scratching behind her ears and eliciting a contented purring sound from the massive creature.

“Gracie? The two men?” Viktor prompted gently, his deep voice cutting through her fascinated gaze.

“Right!” she gasped, straightening as she snapped back to reality. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the fragmented memories. Pain pulsed faintly at the edges of her mind, and she flinched when her fangs emerged again. “Ouch!” she muttered, her fingers brushing against her lip.

Viktor’s quiet chuckle joined Jace’s deeper laughter. The she-wolf, apparently offended by the amusement, growled faintly and nipped at the man’s thigh, eliciting another chuckle from him. Gracie appreciated the solidarity, patting the she-wolf’s head with a small grin. “Thank you for that.”

Viktor hugged her briefly, his arm squeezing gently at her waist. “Continue, love,” he encouraged, his tone both commanding and tender.

Gracie drew in a steadying breath, her expression blank with concentration.

“The second man was... angry. Mean, even. But I can’t remember much else about him.

At the time, I was too focused on the fact that we were chained to a wall in a windowless room.

The fear was... overwhelming.” Her voice grew quieter with the admission.

“Understandable,” Jace said, his tone unexpectedly kind.

“We share territory with your clan,” Jace explained.

“If your mate hasn’t explained it yet, you should know that we’re all connected—your clan, my pack, and Sorcia’s coven.

If any one of us is under attack, it puts all of us in danger.

Threats to one group ripple outward, threatening the safety of the entire alliance.

Let me be clear: we’re prepared to stand together. We won’t let anyone take what’s ours.”

The she-wolf lifted her head, locking eyes with Jace. There was a silent exchange between them—Gracie was sure of it. How fascinating! She watched, wide-eyed, as Jace nodded slightly before turning back to her.

“Did you hear any names during your captivity?” Viktor asked, his voice calm but edged with urgency. “Anything that might help us identify them?”

Gracie frowned, her brow knitting tightly as she struggled to focus. “No... not that I can remember,” she admitted, frustration creeping into her tone. “But that doesn’t mean names weren’t spoken. It’s just... blurry.” Her voice strengthened with determination as she added, “For now.”

The weight of what had been done to her pressed heavily on the group. Someone had taken her, subjected her to unspeakable torment, transformed her, and then discarded her like trash. And yet…

Gracie’s breath caught, her chest rising sharply as a thought struck her. Spinning toward Viktor, her movements sharp with purpose, she said, “What if no one wiped my mind?”

Viktor’s silver eyes narrowed, his brows furrowing deeply. “But you don’t remember anything clearly,” he countered. “Your memories are only coming back in fragments.”

“True,” she conceded, stepping out of his comforting embrace and pacing a few steps, her hands gesturing as she tried to piece her theory together.

“But think about it. When would they have had the chance to wipe my memory? Not before the transformation—I remember the pain of that vividly. And definitely not after. They left me for dead in a pile of other bodies. They thought I didn’t survive.

” She turned sharply toward Jace, her voice rising. “You said there’s another body dump?”

“Yes,” Jace confirmed, his gaze steady as he watched her.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, her voice gaining momentum. “What if the process of transforming me is what caused my memories to fracture?” She stopped pacing and fixed Viktor with a penetrating gaze. “What if it’s the transition itself?”

Viktor folded his arms, his expression thoughtful. The reflective sheen of his eyes hinted at the calculations running through his mind. “It’s possible,” he said slowly, “but it’s also unprecedented.”

Gracie’s mouth set into a determined line. “Then let’s make it precedented.”

Her words hung in the air, full of defiance and hope. Then, her eyes widened, and she turned to Viktor. “There were nine people in the pile?”

“I think so,” Viktor replied. “I had one of my people catalog the remains. I can confirm the exact number.”

He turned to Jace, who shook his head grimly. “The charred remains we found are harder to quantify. Not unless we collect every fragment and run DNA testing. And even then…”

Gracie nodded, her thoughts churning visibly. “I don’t know if the number of people being... turned—” she paused, searching for the right word—“is significant. But let’s assume it is.”

“The number might simply be dictated by the available space where the transition occurred,” Viktor suggested, though his tone lacked conviction.

“True,” Gracie allowed, pacing again as she chewed over the idea. “However, what if the number nine isn’t just about space?” She stopped and turned to face Viktor directly. “How many vampires would it take to overthrow your leadership?”

Viktor’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening with an edge of protectiveness. “It won’t happen,” he said firmly, the confidence in his voice unwavering.

Gracie couldn’t suppress a small grin at his absolute certainty. “Of course not, but theoretically, how many would it take?”

Viktor considered the question, his gaze distant. “I don’t know. My leadership has never been challenged.”

Jace let out a low grunt of approval. “That’s because you’re a damn good leader. You inspire loyalty in your people. If an invading force tried to take you down, your clan would fight to the death to protect what you’ve built.”

Viktor inclined his head slightly at the compliment, but his expression darkened. “And a lot of innocent humans would get caught in the crossfire of that war.”

Gracie glanced between the two men, her throat tightening. Her voice softened but carried a grim truth. “A lot of people have already died.”

The group fell into a weighted silence, each of them turning over the consequences of failure in their minds. The quiet was broken only by the soft wind and the faint shuffling of the she-wolf, who leaned against Jace, her piercing blue eyes watching Gracie intently.

Viktor shook his head abruptly, breaking the stillness. “You might be onto something with the number,” he said, his voice more decisive. “Let’s look into it. See if the number nine holds significance for anyone—or any group. It could be a cultural or symbolic factor.”

Gracie’s heart lifted slightly, hope flickering to life as Viktor’s words carried a promise: they would unravel this mystery together.