Chapter Six

They left the terrace without a word about what had passed between them. Sebastian's hand rested at the small of her back as they slipped through the quieter corridors of the estate, away from the music and the watching eyes. Liana did not ask where they were going. She simply walked beside him, her fingers still curled loosely in the fabric of his jacket, as though she had already decided the night belonged to the two of them alone.

His rooms lay on the upper floor, the windows open to the same moonlight that had silvered the terrace. The door closed behind them with a soft, final click, and for a moment they only stood there, close enough to feel each other breathe, the air between them charged and waiting.

Liana looked up at him. Whatever caution she had carried into the evening had burned away against that stone railing. She reached for the buttons of his jacket with steady hands and eased it from his shoulders, and Sebastian let her, watching the quiet resolve in her face and the faint flush still high on her cheeks. When she rose onto her toes and kissed him again, slower this time, he answered with the same restraint he had fought for all night, until her fingers found the nape of his neck and she whispered his name against his mouth. Then the careful distance he had kept for nine centuries simply dissolved.

They moved together without hurry. Clothes were set aside in the half dark, fabric whispering over skin, and the bond between them hummed low and constant, a living current that made every touch feel inevitable. Sebastian's hands traced the curve of her waist and the line of her spine, learning her as though he had waited centuries for the privilege, while Liana's fingers followed the strong planes of his chest and the old scars he no longer thought about, until he shivered beneath her palms. He laid her back against the cool sheets and followed, taking care that she would feel only his warmth. Their mouths met again, deeper now, and the world narrowed to the press of skin, the soft sounds she made when he kissed the hollow of her throat, and the way she arched to meet him.

There was no rush in any of it. He moved with her in a rhythm both tender and consuming, the bond flaring bright each time she breathed his name, and her hands slid into his hair to hold him close as pleasure gathered and broke between them in quiet, shared waves. When it crested, she buried her face against his shoulder, and Sebastian held her through it, his forehead pressed to hers, the ancient wolf inside him finally, finally quiet.

Afterward they lay tangled in the moonlight, her head on his chest and his arm curved around her. Neither spoke for a long while. The distant music from the ballroom had faded away, and outside the night was still. Liana's fingers drew an idle pattern over his heart.

"Still deciding?" he asked softly, repeating the question he had put to her on the terrace.

She smiled against his skin. "I think I've decided."

Sebastian pressed a kiss to her hair and closed his eyes, the weight of centuries settling at last into something that felt, for the first time, like home.

---

Sebastian woke to sunlight and reached across the bed. His hand met an empty pillow. He opened his eyes to find the bathroom door standing open on an empty room, and the chair where Liana had left her clothes was bare. For a long moment he stared at it. Then he sat up.

She had actually left. There was no note, no message, not even a goodbye. He dragged a hand down his face. He had known her for a single evening, and she had made no promises, just as he had offered none. She was free to leave whenever she pleased, and he understood that perfectly well. His wolf, apparently, had missed the explanation. It prowled restlessly beneath his skin, searching for the woman who had shared their bed and then slipped away before sunrise.

"She's gone," Sebastian muttered. The wolf took the news badly.

A knock sounded at the door. "Are you awake?" Alex called.

"No."

The door opened anyway. Alex stepped in, took one look at the tangled sheets, and stopped, his gaze settling on the empty side of the bed. "Oh."

"Don't."

"I haven't said anything."

"Your face has."

Alex leaned against the doorframe. "Should I come back later?"

"You should leave now."

"Right. I'll just mention that the council has been asking for you since dawn, and then I'll go."

Sebastian reached for his trousers. "What happened?"

"One of the werewolves has lost his abilities. All of them, apparently. The council wants you there."

Sebastian paused. "Lost them how?"

"They don't know. He can't shift, and his strength and senses have dropped to human levels."

"Was he injured?"

"Not according to the message. He was fine yesterday."

"Then why are they calling me?"

"Because they've never seen anything like it." Alex's tone turned grave. "They've asked every physician they can reach, and nobody has an answer. Even the elders are baffled."

"And they think I'll have one?"

"They think you might have heard of something similar in nine hundred years."

Sebastian reached for his shirt. "A generous assessment of my education."

"I thought so, too. They sounded desperate, though."

Sebastian dressed quickly, his mind already turning over possibilities, none of them convincing. In his long life he had seen strange illnesses and stranger shifts in supernatural power, but never a werewolf stripped of everything overnight. He was still chewing on it when they left the estate.

---

The car passed a public park on the way to the council's residence. The morning was already busy, with runners following the paths beneath the trees and cyclists weaving around early walkers. Sebastian barely glanced outside. Then his wolf lifted its head, and the change was immediate. The restless pacing stopped, replaced by a keen, unmistakable recognition, and Sebastian felt the familiar pull before he knew where it came from. He turned toward the window.

Liana was jogging along the path on the far side of a low iron fence, her hair tied back, a few loose strands brushing her cheeks. She wore dark running leggings and a light top, her pace steady as she passed beneath the trees. She looked perfectly content. She looked, in fact, as though she were having a rather pleasant morning.

*You've got to be kidding me.*

She had left him alone in that bed, and here she was, enjoying a morning run as though the night before had meant nothing. His wolf, the traitor, practically purred at the sight of her. *Of course you're happy. You got what you wanted and went on with your day.* The thought was ridiculous. He was nine hundred years old, not some untried boy sulking because a woman had not stayed for breakfast, and Liana owed him nothing. He still was not enjoying himself.

Alex followed his gaze. "Isn't that—"

"Yes."

"The woman from last night?"

Sebastian turned his head slowly. Alex raised a hand. "Just making sure."

"Now you've made sure."

"She seems to be having a good morning."

"I'm delighted for her."

"You don't sound delighted."

"Perhaps that's because you're narrating."

Alex's mouth twitched. "Want me to ask the driver to stop?"

"No."

"Good. I wasn't sure whether you wanted to spend the morning staring at her or actually attend the meeting."

Sebastian gave him a cold look. "Careful, Alex."

"I am being careful. If I weren't, I'd ask whether she knows you've been sulking since you woke up."

"I haven't been sulking."

"Of course not."

Sebastian looked out the window again. Liana had reached the bend in the path, and she slowed to adjust the strap of her watch before running on, entirely unaware of what her absence had done to him. He could not decide whether that made it better or worse. His wolf watched until the trees hid her from view.

He faced forward. "Not a word of this to anyone."

"Of what?"

Sebastian stared at him.

"Right," Alex said. "Your terrible morning. Never happened." For roughly five seconds he stayed quiet. Then he added, "For the record, I think it's good for you."

Sebastian closed his eyes. "I'm going to throw you out of this car."

"You'd have to stop it first."

The driver, wisely, kept his eyes on the road.

Sebastian sank back into his seat, determined to think of anything but the woman running through the park. Unfortunately, the council's summons crept back to the front of his mind, bringing with it the image of a werewolf who had somehow lost everything that made him what he was. That was a problem he could not dispel with a warning look. "Tell me everything they said about him."

Alex set his amusement aside. "Not much. His name is Darian Voss. He's been part of the community for nearly a century, with no history of illness or instability. Yesterday he was healthy, and by evening something had changed."

"Changed how?"

"They didn't say. Only that he couldn't shift and his abilities were gone."

"Did they say whether his wolf is still there?"

"No."

"Then that's what we find out first."

Alex nodded as the car turned onto the road leading to the council's residence. Sebastian watched the city slide past the window, his thoughts moving from an empty bed to an impossible condition that no one could explain. He had spent nine centuries learning the ways of his kind, their strengths and weaknesses and the old stories most had forgotten, and yet none of this made sense.

For the first time that morning, he was glad to have something to think about other than Liana.

Almost glad.