Chapter 5

Awakening Shadows

“I didn’t expect to see you here, little wolf.”

The voice slithers across my skin like icy silk, rapidly lifting the small hairs along my neck. I look up from the vendor contracts scattered over the glass conference table and feel my stomach twist into knots. 

 Damien Voss stands in the entryway of the events suite, framed by the late afternoon sun slanting through the panoramic windows. He’s clothed in a dark blue suit that molds to his tall, strong figure like a second skin. His hair is nicely groomed, streaked artistically with silver around the temples. His beautiful blue eyes glitter with pleasure as they skim over me. 

 He looks precisely the same as he did five years ago - suave, ageless, and terrifyingly attractive. 

 I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dries. “Mr. Voss,” I manage, forcing my voice to stay calm. “I wasn’t aware you had a meeting here today.” 

 His lips twist into a grin that never reaches his eyes. “I don’t. I was traveling on my way to meet Lucian. But imagine my amazement when I saw your name on the staff list this morning.” 

 My heartbeat roars in my ears. He knows. Of course he knows. Damien Voss owns half of supernatural Los Angeles in secret, predatory relationships. Nothing happens in his realm without his knowing. 

 He strides towards me with calculated ease, each step exuding chilly domination that prickles over my senses like frostbite. He pauses a few feet away, leaning on the table’s edge, his eyes locked on my face. 

 “You look pale, Elara,” he says quietly. “Surely my presence doesn’t frighten you so easily.” 

 I push myself to meet his eyes, despite every cell in my body begging to escape. “I’m not afraid.” 

 He giggles, low and smooth. “Liar. You always were a lousy liar.” 

 The image slashes through me like a dagger - Damien’s icy fingers grabbing my chin in that dark hotel corridor, pushing my gaze up to his while he sneered at Lucian over my shoulder. 

 “Mark her well, pup. This one will bring you nothing but ruin.” 

 I quiver, bile rising in my throat. “What do you want, Damien?” 

 He tilts his head, eyeing me like a fascinating creature imprisoned behind glass. “Want? I want nothing from you, little beast. But I do wonder…” His eyes glitter with sinister delight. “Does the Blackthorne pup know what you’re hiding?” 

 My breath catches terribly. My fingers clench around the edge of the table until my knuckles whiten. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

 His smile grows, slow and evil. “Oh, I think you do.” 

 He draws in closer, his fragrance engulfing me cold winter nights and new blood. His lips hover just over my ear as he says, “Secrets always have a price, Elara. And you… you’re drowning in them.” 

 I shrink away, my chest heaving as terror threatens to consume me whole. “Stay away from me.” 

 He draws back slightly, his pale blue eyes sparkling with quiet laughter. “As you wish. But know this - I am not your adversary today. I’m merely… curious.” 

 He straightens, brushing an imperceptible wrinkle from his sleeve before fixing his silver cufflinks. “Tell Lucian I’ll see him at tonight’s board dinner.” 

 He turns to go, but pauses at the doorway, looks over his shoulder with the same chilly smile. “And Elara? Pray he never finds the truth. For both your sakes.” 

 He vanishes along the passage, his footsteps echoing against the marble floors. I drop back into my chair, shaking so furiously I can hardly keep myself straight. Tears boil at the backs of my eyelids as I bring shaking fingertips to my lips. 

 Damien Voss knows. He knows about Aaron. About everything. 

 God, what am I going to do? 

 The remainder of the afternoon passes in a whirl of paperwork and muttered terror. By the time Isobel comes to accompany me to Lucian’s office for the final briefing, I feel raw and hollowed out, like an abandoned shell on a freezing shore. 

 She guides me softly across the shadowy executive floor. My heels clack on polished marble, echoing like gunshots in the calm. When we approach Lucian’s office, she raps softly on the black glass door before pushing it open. 

 Lucian stands behind his desk, sleeves pulled to his elbows, veins flaring over his forearms as he scrolls through paperwork. He doesn’t glance up as we arrive. 

 “Leave us,” he urges Isobel. 

 She bows gently and goes, closing the door with a faint hiss. 

 I stand transfixed in front of his desk, fists clutched tightly to hide their quivering. For several long seconds, he says nothing, merely flips over pages with calm efficiency. Finally, he lays the file down and lifts his attention to me. 

 “Did Damien speak to you today?” he asks quietly, yet the menacing edge in his tone makes my stomach knot with anxiety. 

 I swallow hard, trying my voice to remain calm. “He… passed through the events suite. Briefly.” 

 His eyes narrow. “And what did he say?” 

 My mouth gets dry. “Nothing. Just… greetings.” 

 Silence spreads between us, dense and stifling. His silver eyes flicker with something dark and hurt before he coaches his countenance back into cool indifference. 

 “Stay away from him,” he urges quietly. “He’s poison.” 

 I nod swiftly. “I will.” 

 He stands quickly, the chair scraping back against the marble as he marches towards me. I lurch back involuntarily, but he grabs my wrists, pressing me against the chilly glass overlooking the bright metropolis below. 

 “Don’t lie to me, Elara,” he snarls, his breath hot on my face. “If he threatens you, if he so much as looks at you wrong, you tell me.” 

 Tears fill my eyes as I shake my head. “He didn’t threaten me.” 

 His glare lessens slightly, yet his grasp on my wrists remains painful. “You’re mine to protect,” he murmurs forcefully. “Mine to punish. Mine to… keep.” 

 A choking sob leaves my voice as he releases my wrists to cup my face, his fingers wiping away the tears that flow down my cheeks. His forehead lays on mine, and for a little time, we just breathe each other in. 

 “Why are you doing this to me?” I mumble brokenly. 

 His lips touch mine in a ghost of a kiss. “Because I can’t stop.” 

 For a minute, his tongue slants over mine, hot and possessive, tasting of alcohol and sorrow. My knees collapse as his tongue rushes over mine in a harsh, claiming kiss that rips the oxygen from my lungs. I gasp against him, tears mixed with his taste as fire floods my veins in scorching waves. 

 But suddenly he pulls back, leaving me shaking and raw, my lips swollen with his remembrance. 

 “Go home, Elara,” he instructs quietly, stroking a stray curl from my face. “Tomorrow will be worse.” 

 As I walk out of his office into the lonely night, Damien’s whispered words resound in my memory like a death knell - “Does the Blackthorne pup know what you’re hiding?” 

 And deep down, I know it’s just a matter of time until Lucian learns the truth that will devastate both our worlds.