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  Tried hard to breathe past the crushing steel bands that had somehow found their way around her chest.

  Zoe woke up from a deep sleep with one word reverberating through her mind.

  Poverty.

  It had a smell to it, a feeling of filth and fear that stunk up everything around her. Zoe remembered it well, and the fact that she’d woken up in the middle of the night with that same scent in her nose and that same itch to her skin threw her into what she could only describe as a moment of utter and total desolation.

  Move. Run. Take.

  She rolled out of bed, unable to catch her breath. Unable to stop the sick from rising in her throat, the bile from coming up. A sense of hunger gnawed at her gut and made her mouth water from the upset. From the pang. She hadn’t been truly hungry in a number of years, hadn’t been without food for decades, and yet she felt it. That ache. That feeling of never having enough. Of never being satisfied.

  Stumbling, half crawling across the floor, she lurched into the kitchen and grabbed the first thing she could get her hands on. Bread. A loaf sat on the counter, and Zoe tore into it without the patience to actually open the bag properly as she fell to the floor and backed into the corner. She didn’t need to bother with the twisty thing anyway—her claws made quick work of the plastic. And then she ate, trying to fill the gaping hole in her gut. Stuffing slices into her mouth and swallowing them down even though they never settled her stomach. Never filled the emptiness within her.

  If they can feed you, they can starve you, her mother had said. A thousand times in all situations, Zoe’s mother made sure to remind her only child that when you gave up your power, you gave up your independence. No one fed her now, no one had that sort of control over her. But the memories of being poor, of living in a cabin similar to the one she had just woken up in, of being prey to others who were supposed to work with you as a family unit, they stuck with her. Scarred her psyche.

  They made her hunger for something she never knew how to acquire.

  “Beautiful?”

  Zoe gripped the bread tighter, snarling, at first unable to look at Alaska as she stuffed another piece in her mouth. “Go away.”

  “What are you—” He froze, watching her with knowing eyes. With a look on his face that didn’t seem to be pity. That was totally not what she was expecting to see there. Still, she couldn’t deal with the memories clawing at her mind. Couldn’t handle the stress of being stuck in the type of house she’d hated so much. Of ending up right back where she’d started. Trapped. Weak. Empty.

  No.

  Never.

  Not again.

  Alaska didn’t say another word, though. He simply moved to the bank of cabinets and opened one, pulling down a jar before grabbing a butter knife from the drawer.

  He crouched before her and offered what was in his hands. “Here,” he said. “Peanut butter has more protein in it. It will fill you up faster.”

  Zoe looked from him to the jar and back again, searching out the trick. The joke. Waiting for him to pull the food away and laugh at her. To try to starve her. He never did, though. He stayed calm and steady, offering her the food. Never faltering in his sincerity.

  She grabbed the jar and knife with shaking hands, curling farther into the corner. “Thanks.”

  “Let me know if you need anything else.” He stood, giving her space. Not stopping until he was halfway across the room once more. “How bad was it?”

  Zoe knew what he meant—knew exactly what he saw. How bad was it? The hunger, the poverty, the living as prey for those with more power and wealth? “The worst.”

  He nodded once, a low growl rumbling from his chest. “Get your fill and come to bed when you’re done. We’ll be in town tomorrow and can pick up more food. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.”

  And then he crawled into bed and went silent. Zoe felt the need to follow him, but her hunger won out. So she made herself a sandwich, and she ate until she didn’t feel the filth crawling all over her anymore. Until she had the strength to keep the emptiness at bay once more.

  16

  As the sun came up the next morning, Deus slipped outside the cabin once more with his phone in his hand. He hadn’t slept well. Hell, if he was being honest, he hadn’t closed his eyes at all since he’d woken up in the bed alone. He may not have sat with Beautiful on that kitchen floor—had known instinctually she wouldn’t want anyone to witness that—but he’d stayed awake. He’d listened while she stuffed herself with peanut butter and bread as if she hadn’t eaten in a week. And he’d suffered right alongside her.

  Her desperation had been torturous but not unfamiliar.

  He’d seen shifters do the exact same thing before—had been around when Luc had gone over the deep end of his memories and lost his sense of self. His Beautiful had been hungry once. Not in a minor way—her hunger hadn’t been the kind that came from eating late or skipping a single meal. She’d been starved, routinely deprived of the nourishment she needed, and her wolf still bore the scars of those days.

  Someone had starved her.

  The thought gutted him. Deus could have killed whoever had done it with his bare hands, without even needing his wolf speed or strength to help him. He could have destroyed entire cities in retaliation for that senselessness. But he would have to know her past to figure out who was to blame, and they weren’t there yet. That trust hadn’t fully formed. So all he could do, all he could think of, was to call his Alpha for advice. Because Luc had been starved once, too. For years. Back before the Dire Wolves knew how to work together, before they knew how to be a pack. Before they knew how to fight.

  Still, the number was not an easy one to dial.

  Luc answered before the first ring had cut off, his voice already deep and worried. “What’s wrong with your mate, Asmodeus?”

  Luc’s supernatural sense in regards to the Dire pack and their mates didn’t surprise Deus one bit. “She had a moment last night. An…incident.”

  “What kind of incident?”

  Deus looked to the sky, hating himself for even telling anyone this. Knowing he needed to. “She woke up and ended up in the kitchen eating bread.”

  “Yeah?” Luc said, lengthening the word, not understanding the severity of the moment. The desperation in her actions.

  “She didn’t open the bag. I found her curled in the corner with her claws in the loaf and her wolf eyes staring back at me as she stuffed slices into her mouth.” Deus licked his lips and sighed. “I don’t think she could have stopped.”

  Luc grunted. “She’s been starved before.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You think it was intentional?”

  That someone purposely took food away from her to punish her or her wolf. The thought brought out his claws even as he remembered the picture he’d seen the day before. The one of her in front of a shack. “I don’t know. Could have just been neglect.”

  “Either way, her wolf is unsettled. I can sense that and your discomfort with it.”

  “Discomfort is an understatement.”

  “I can only imagine.” Luc stayed silent for a moment, breathing softly. Deus gave him the time he needed, knowing the man was likely processing his own experiences and drawing from them. Finally, Luc asked, “Are you sure she should stay here?”

  That was an easy question to answer. “Definitely. She needs someone to take care of her.”

  “Sounds as if she’d been taking care of herself just fine.”

  Deus couldn’t argue that point. “She’s staying with me, but how should I handle the eating thing? What do I do to make it better?”

  “Feed her,” Luc said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Whatever, whenever…her wolf will settle eventually when she understands that you’re going to make sure she has the basics she needs. Just keep her fed and safe.”

  Something so simple for a woman who was anything but. That he could do, though. He’d rob the only grocery store in town if he needed to keep her sati
ated.

  “I’ll do that.”

  “And go to town today. Take your mate on a research expedition and dig deeper.”

  Deus planned to answer his Alpha, but words failed him at that moment. The woman in question came walking out onto the porch, looking like an angel in the early morning glow. Beautiful’s eyes met his, and everything around him disappeared. Damn, she was perfect. And his. All fucking his. His heart ached to be close to her, and his body seemed to come alive at the thought of touching, tasting, feeling, and loving up on his woman.

  Why was he so far away?

  “Deus. Focus.”

  Oh, right. The phone call.

  “Whatever you say.” Deus nodded at his mate, catching her eye as he moved toward her. Fighting the urge to hang up and run to her simply because she had looked his way.

  “Be safe out there. Keep your eye on your female.”

  “I fully intend to.”

  Beautiful cocked her head, certainly hearing his side of the conversation, likely hearing Luc’s as well. Didn’t matter—let her know. Deus was growing weary of keeping things from her. He was also growing tired of not having her in his arms.

  “Call me when you get back,” Luc said before ending the call. Deus pocked his phone and closed the distance between him and his mate. The need positively roaring through his veins.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked when he reached the porch. He chuffed and reached for her, too afraid to open his mouth and growl at her. Too on edge to stay away. She didn’t seem upset at his response, though. She grabbed his arms and frowned up at him as he grabbed her and pulled her into his hold for one long, tight hug.

  He hated to let her go when it was done, though he loved getting a closeup look of her in her silky bathrobe that clung to every curve. “You look amazing this morning.”

  “That’s not what has you upset.”

  “No, it’s not. Did you hear the end of that conversation?”

  “You’re supposed to keep your eye on me.”

  “Right. Because my boss thinks the pack could be dangerous somehow.”

  “So are we stuck here again?”

  Because Luc had told them to stay put the night before. “No. We don’t need to stay here.” Deus leaned closer, holding her gaze. “We’ll likely spend the afternoon in town. Do you have everything you need for this morning?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She darted a look toward her feet, likely knowing he meant food. That he remembered the night before. He didn’t want her embarrassed or humiliated by what he’d seen, but he also wouldn’t abide with her ever wanting for something as simple as food. He was, at his base, a wolf. He could bring down food in the forest if his mate needed it.

  “You’re sure? I’ll take care of whatever you need me to, Beautiful. I promise you that.”

  “I’m okay. Really. Last night was…”

  Deus hated the almost pained look on her face. “It was horrible, but we made it through. Right?”

  She smiled softly. “Yeah. We did. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me for caring. Now, we’ve got a few hours before anything is even open in town. What do you want to do?”

  She looked past him, not seeming convinced by his words but not arguing either. “Can we go for a run? I’m feeling a little claustrophobic in there.”

  That sounded far better than counting down the minutes until they had to dig through the stacks at the local library. “A run would be perfect, but we can’t go too far.”

  She shot him a cocky smirk. “Afraid someone will try to take me away from you?”

  The very thought inflamed him. “No. I’m afraid I’ll have to slaughter a pack for even trying.”

  Beautiful just shook her head, as if she didn’t believe him. As if she truly thought he was exaggerating. He wasn’t, and he really hoped he never had to prove that fact in front of her.

  They stripped off their clothes and shifted, jogging through the woods at a casual sort of pace. Deus followed her lead, staying close on her heels but letting her decide where to go and how fast. Not wanting to crowd her. Giving both of their wolves a chance to stretch their legs and their senses.

  The forest felt calm to Deus—no indication that there was danger lurking in the deeper shadows, no sense of wrongness coming from the area. Still, he kept his attention focused on his mate and all that surrounded her. No way could he make a mistake now. He had to be battle ready, fully equipped and ruthless in his protection of her. He had to be prepared to take out any threat to her.

  When they reached the top of the hill overlooking a vast, partially frozen lake below, Beautiful shifted human once more. Naked, sitting in the snow as if it wasn’t cold and wet against her skin, she looked like some sort of sexy fairy nymph. One who frowned as she looked out over the forest below. One who seemed surrounded by a sadness he couldn’t wish away. One he needed in his arms more than he needed to breathe, so he shifted as well and sat down behind her, pulling her into his lap.

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” he asked once he had her exactly where he wanted her.

  “This place. The pack here. All the things that could be going on with them that might make your boss tell us to stay put yesterday.”

  “He’s protective.”

  “Why?”

  Deus wasn’t sure how to answer that. Why? Because he was. Always had been, always would be. Because they were pack, and pack took care of one another. Somehow, he didn’t think that answer would suffice. “We’ve been friends for a long time.”

  “How long?”

  Over a thousand years. “Lifetimes.”

  “That’s awfully vague.”

  “Perhaps, but we’re still getting to know one another. We can be more specific another time.” He leaned in to nuzzle her neck, breathing her in. Kissing from her ear to her shoulder and back. The pull to mate with her grew, the need to touch and taste and scent every inch of her hard to resist. Maybe the mating haze, though he was still not convinced, or perhaps simply his lust for her burning through him. Whatever it was, he had a sudden and intense need to know her inside and out, to learn everything about her, and to tell her everything about him. His name, the setup of his pack, the legends of the Dire Wolves…everything. And he wanted to start with something so simple, something she’d already brought up. Something basic. “Tell me your name, Beautiful. Give me that much, and I’ll do the same.”

  Her body went stiff, and her voice sounded thicker as she replied, “I like it when you call me Beautiful. It’s like our own secret thing, remember? Alaska and Beautiful…we don’t need to know the rest.”

  They did, especially if he was going to find out more about her. If they were going to grow closer as a unit. He’d told her he liked using the nicknames because it was like a secret between them just the day before, but he hadn’t meant to never share more with her. He’d intended to open up about his past so she could be honest about hers, just not at that exact time. Perhaps he’d messed up that moment—perhaps her saying she didn’t know what to call him was more of a request for him to tell her something instead of a moment of needing reassurance. Something he’d missed. But he couldn’t fix his mistake so he didn’t argue, choosing to focus instead on simply holding her in his arms as the minutes passed. On taking whatever affection he could get…because he suddenly had a sinking feeling in his gut that this quiet intimacy wouldn’t last for long.

  17

  Zoe could only assume that something had cracked between them after their run. Or perhaps something about their connection had shifted. Alaska barely spoke to her once they returned to the cabin, spending hours on his laptop instead. He stared and typed and stared some more, his satellite internet connected and obviously working as he searched for…she had no idea what. Whatever it was, he didn’t seem too happy about the information he found.

  So she spent her morning entertaining herself. First, with various games she could play on her phone, and later—once she’d retreated to the bed alone for
the first time since they’d arrived—she tried to lose herself in a book. It didn’t work.

  Instead, she lay there watching him work. Noting every tic and quirk, every bit of body language she could make out. The way he hunched over the glowing screen and the speed with which his fingers moved over the keyboard. The stiff set of his shoulders and the firm line of his jaw. How his thighs bulged from the way he sat and his ass filled out the back of his jeans. And as she felt sleep tugging her away from her vigil, she understood the empty feeling inside of her chest.

  She missed him.

  Missed his cuddles and his laugh, his touch and his attention on her. Fear of losing such a fragile connection had wedged itself solidly between them, and she had no idea how to dislodge it.

  “We should definitely head to town soon,” he said suddenly as he closed his laptop and looked her way. “We can grab lunch, and then I’d like to get a start on the research we need to do.”

  She sat up, her mind groggy and her body slow. Had she fallen asleep? The emptiness that had started that morning yawned inside of her, making her believe she had. “You didn’t find anything yet?”

  He looked away, something close to regret flashing across his face. “Not what I needed, no.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and her instincts flared. Do not trust echoed through her head even as she rose to her feet and headed for the bathroom. The feeling of unease, the warning brewing in her blood, didn’t end either. Not while she readied herself for the day, not even on the ride into town while they chatted about the weather and the beautiful views. She’d thought that something had cracked between them. She’d been wrong—it had been broken. She just wasn’t sure what that something was yet—or if there was any possibility of repairing it.